It was late afternoon when they set off towards Bidadari cemetery in James’s shiny white BMW. It still had that new-car smell and was immaculately kept, inside and out. He had opened the car door for her, a tiny gesture that had made her smile. The more she got to know James, the more she was warming to him. He was quite traditional, with his old-school manners and classic dress sense, and his neat and tidy car served to emphasise this. Yet at the same time, he had a knack of surprising Annabel with his quick wit. He regularly caught her off guard, making her laugh out loud with his self-deprecation and wry observations.
The BBC World Service was playing on the radio, making Annabel feel slightly more at home in this foreign country. James was a confident but careful driver, expertly navigating the multi-laned highways as they made their way north. Annabel’s hand reached instinctively for the door handle a couple of times as drivers pulled out in front of them, with barely a hair’s breadth. But she relaxed after a while, feeling safe with James behind the wheel.
James parked the car just off Vernon Road and stepped out of the cool air conditioning into the fierce intensity of the afternoon sun. Annabel looked around and marvelled at how quickly the weather could change here; there was little evidence of the earlier rain. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she followed James along the path to the entrance gates.
A pair of imposing white pillars flanked the wrought-iron entrance gates. ‘Bidadari Memorial Park,’ Annabel read the sign.
They passed through the gates into a lush, green garden. A series of pathways led off in different directions, shaded by lines of tall trees and punctuated by wooden benches at regularintervals. They followed one such path and saw that the area was divided into different sections for different religions: Christian, Muslim and Hindu. There were occasional headstones and memorial plaques, but not the rows of neat gravestones that she had been expecting.
‘Where are all the graves?’ she asked.
‘Good question,’ James said, frowning. He stopped in the shade of a large rain tree and took out his phone. He tapped away for a moment, searching the internet for information, then said, ‘Damn, this isn’t right. I’m sorry. I should have checked before coming out here. This isn’t the cemetery, I’m afraid. We’re not going to find your great-grandparents’ graves after all.’
He continued reading. ‘The original cemetery was cleared in the early 2000s, this is just a memorial garden to mark the spot and it’s only temporary. This whole area is about to be redeveloped for a new housing project.’ He sighed. ‘Damn it, I should have checked. Sorry. The cemeterywashere, so that’s something. And the entrance gates are the originals, even if they’ve been repositioned.’ He shrugged and gave a small smile.
‘But what about the graves? Exhumed, I suppose?’ she asked.
James nodded. ‘I’m sure we could find out where they were taken. Let me see what I can find out at the High Commission.’
They turned and started heading back towards the entrance. ‘Land in Singapore is at such a premium that this sort of thing happens all the time; buildings are knocked down and land repurposed. Even apartment blocks don’t last much longer than twenty years,’ James explained.
‘I suppose it’s all in the name of progress,’ Annabel said.
‘Yes, the Singaporeans are a rather unsentimental bunch. This country has only got where it is today by constantlymoving forward. Progress is key and with a growing population they need more housing. I’m sorry this was a wasted journey.’
‘Don’t apologise, James, it’s OK.’ She reached out and touched his arm briefly. Then she stopped and looked around. ‘It’s a beautiful place and worth a visit. And, like you say, my great-grandparentswereburied here, even if they’re not here now.’ She smiled up at him and they continued walking.
‘Anyway, it’s really kind of you to spend your afternoon helping me. And driving me around, it really does make things so much easier.’
‘Even if I am leading you, quite literally, up the garden path?’ He raised an eyebrow with a look of self-deprecation that made her feel suddenly fond of him.
She grinned back at him. Sweat had started trickling down her back and Annabel wished she had worn something lighter. But it had been pouring when she had left Emma’s apartment and she had been expecting an afternoon indoors. Her friend’s advice had been quite clear: ‘Wrap up if you’re staying inside, it’s usually pretty cold with the air con.’ She looked down at her jeans and winced.
They walked back to the car in silence, hot and frustrated after a fruitless search. It was a relief to escape the sun as they got back in the car and Annabel was grateful for the bottle of cold water that James offered her. He turned on the ignition and she closed her eyes, enjoying the blast of cold air from the AC.
James was about to start the engine when his phone beeped, announcing a new message. He pulled it from his jeans pocket and his brow furrowed as he read the text. After a moment, his face softened and he turned to Annabel. He raised an eyebrow mysteriously. ‘We’re not done yet, Watson!’
He handed her the phone and she read the message on the screen,
Spoke to Julia Chan, she is happy to meet your friend and answer questions. Evenings best. 94218325. Good luck, Alvin.
Annabel grinned. ‘Oh James, you found her, that’s amazing! Thank you so much!’ She looked at her watch: almost 6 p.m. ‘Can we call her now?’
James smiled indulgently as he started the car and pulled out of the car park and onto the main road. ‘Let’s not pounce on the poor woman straight away; why don’t we go back to Emma and Tom’s and have a cuppa? Give Julia time to get in from work, or whatever it is that keeps her busy in the day. Then you can figure out what you want to say to her, and where and when you want to meet.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’ She nodded, still beaming. She was grateful to have James with her. He was making everything easier, somehow. It wasn’t just by playing taxi driver and tour guide for her, or using his contacts to find Julia Chan. It was his calm and steady manner that she most appreciated. She was feeling so excited that, left to her own devices, she would have probably gone in with all guns blazing and terrified the poor woman with her over-exuberance.
‘I can’t believe I’m actually going to meet her!’ She paused and turned to James. ‘You’ll come with me, won’t you?’ Her smile faded when he didn’t reply straight away, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as if deep in thought. A moment later, he turned to her and smiled. ‘Of course. If you’d like me to, then I’ll be there.’
She grinned, feeling pleased. ‘Great! But there’s one thing we need to get clear.’ She raised an eyebrow accusingly at him. ‘Watson? Seriously? This ismyfamily mystery, I should get to be Sherlock!’
CHAPTER 17
Singapore
Wednesday 25th December, 1940
Dorothy awoke on Christmas Day in her old bedroom at her parents’ house in Nassim Road. She looked up and smiled as she saw the perfect blue sky through the gap in the blinds; Christmas had never been this bright and sunny back in London. She winced as she thought of her old home. The past few months had seen London bombed relentlessly by the Germans and every day the news was filled with fresh tales of horror. There was no end in sight for this war, and she worried for her friends and neighbours back there.
