‘And for the record,’ he added soberly, ‘Iwasn’t the one with the roving eye; I never have been – nor ever will be – a cheater.’
An hour later, they were back in the archives room. Now that they had the full name of Dorothy’s first husband, Annabel was keen to see if they could uncover anything else about him. They worked alongside each other in companionable silence, Annabel searching Singapore’s newspapers and business articles from the late 1930s, and James working his way through the death records for the next few years.
‘If your grandparents married in 1945, then your grandmother’s first marriage could have only lasted a few years,’ James mused. ‘Divorce was far less common back then, so I would hazard a guess that this Douglas Llewellyn chap must have died.’
‘In the war, perhaps?’ suggested Annabel.
‘Yes, maybe. The timing would be about right; good thinking.’ James pulled his laptop out of his satchel and, after logging into the library Wi-Fi, clicked open the website of the Commonwealth War Graves.
‘This should be fairly straightforward. All the graves are catalogued online, so we should just be able to do a quick search to see if he’s there. Most servicemen were buried at Kranji, up north; there’s a huge war memorial there. And even if he wasn’t buried there, his name should be in the records if he died in active service.’
A few clicks later and James uttered a sigh of disappointment. ‘Nope. Douglas Llewellyn was neither buried nor listed at Kranji. So perhaps not a wartime death after all. Back to the drawing board!’
But Annabel wasn’t listening, she was too busy zooming in on the newspaper article on the screen in front of her.
‘Look at this, James! Douglas is mentioned in this article about a rubber company.’ She pointed to the blurry words of the scanned text and read aloud.
‘“Douglas Llewellyn took over as Acting Manager of McKinley’s in June 1941. The company continued to go from strength to strength, with rubber demand reaching new heights as the war in Europe raged on. Llewellyn’s management of the company was all too brief, however, as he passed away in November of the same year, following a fall at his home in York Road.”’
‘A fall?’ Annabel’s brow wrinkled. ‘He can’t have been that old, what sort of fall would kill a young man?’
‘You’re right, that does seem strange. But look’ – he pointed to the date – ‘November ’41, just before the Japanese invasion.’
‘Yes, I wonder if there’s a connection?’ Annabel sat back and rubbed her eyes. They were itchy from staring at the screen for far too long, plus she was still tired from her journey and the jet lag. She closed them briefly, but James kept reading. She was aware of his closeness and the subtle scent of his cologne as he leaned across her to read the screen.
‘There’s something else here,’ he said, scanning an earlier section of the article. ‘What did you say your grandmother’s maiden name was?’
‘Templeton.’
James read aloud, ‘“Anthony Templeton took the company to new heights as the start of the Second World War heralded a rapid increase in rubber demand in Europe. Templeton was renowned as a fair and honest manager and was universally respected. He oversaw the next expansion of the company, with the purchase of an additional thousand acres of plantation in Malaysia and a further three go-downs in Singapore to meet the growing supply rates. He took leave to care for his wife when she became ill and sadly died shortly after her, in December 1941.”’
Annabel leaned in to follow the text as James read. Her eyes pricked with weary tears at the mention of her great-grandparents’ passing. Dotty had told her that they had died in London during the war and it had never occurred to Annabel to ask any more than that. Why had Dotty never told her any of this?Annabel felt increasingly uncomfortable. She had adored her grandmother but now she was forced to face the fact that she had blatantly lied to her family. She felt like her foundations had been shaken.
‘I’m sorry, Annabel,’ James said, noticing her tears. ‘I’m guessing you didn’t know anything about this? Must be a bit of a shock!’
He gave a sad smile and touched her gently on the shoulder. His proximity suddenly made her feel strange. Despite her earlier misgivings, she had been surprised to find herself actually enjoying spending time with James. He seemed to have relaxed in her company and they were working well together. Why was her stomach now in knots? On the pretext of needing a drink, she pushed her chair back and reached into her bag for her water bottle.
‘My great-grandparents died out here? And not in London? That’s so strange,’ she said after a long slug of water. ‘Why on earth did Dotty never tell us anything about any of this? First it was the secret letters and photos, now it turns out that she pretty much rewrote the family history! Why would she do that? What else was she hiding?’
James shook his head and manoeuvred his wheelie chair back to his own computer. ‘It does seem pretty strange. Let’s see if we can find their death records, now that we know when they died.’
‘My great-grandparents, you mean?’
‘Yes,’ he replied as he set to work tapping on the keyboard. ‘And Douglas. We know when he died, so we should be able to find his record now, too.’
Annabel felt a rush of gratitude that James seemed almost as interested in her family research as she was. She was glad that her earlier sense of disquiet had disappeared again. Where had that come from, she wondered? Maybe it was just that she was so tired; far from home, jet-lagged and suddenly feeling very confused about her family.
‘Here we go!’ James said, pointing at the screen a couple of minutes later. ‘Olivia Templeton, died on the thirteenth oftNovember 1941 at Alexandra Military Hospital, Singapore, aged forty-six. Cause of death: cancer.’ He scrolled down a little further before continuing, ‘Anthony Templeton, died on the twentieth of December 1941 at Alexandra Military Hospital, Singapore, aged fifty-one. Cause of death: heart failure.’
James reached into his satchel again, took out a notebook and pen and began scribbling.
‘Oh!’ Annabel exclaimed. ‘They were both so young. And he died so soon after his wife! But they do say that happens with couples sometimes, don’t they? Maybe it’s true; maybe youcandie from a broken heart.’ She sighed. ‘What an awful Christmas that must have been for Dotty that year, losing both her parents like that as well as her husband!’
‘Indeed, it must have been a terrible time,’ James agreed. He scribbled one last thing in the notebook and snapped it shut. ‘We’ve made some good progress today.’
‘What are you writing there?’ Annabel asked, nodding at the notebook.
‘I’ve found where your great-grandparents were buried. Would you like to visit?’
