The Other Side of Paradise Read Online Free PDF Page B

take you back.’
    She sat in the back of the Bensons’ Ford while their
syce
drove her home. The rain was drumming on the car roof, the windscreen wipers swishing to and fro. She undid her shoes again and kicked them off, wiggling her toes. What utter piffle that Australian had talked! Singapore
was
a fortress – everybody said so. Impassable jungle on one side and the huge Royal Navy guns guarding the other. Safe as houses, as the nice Roger had put it, and the left-footed planter had agreed. And what did Australians know about anything – descended from convicts and living upside down at the bottom of the world?
    Soojal was waiting. ‘
Missee
had nice evening?’
    ‘Not really. It was rather dull. Is the
tuan
back?’
    ‘No,
missee
. Not yet.
Missee
need anything?’
    ‘No, thank you, Soojal. I’m going to bed.’
    A bow. A smile. ‘Goodnight,
missee
.’
    ‘Goodnight.’
    She walked barefoot across the tiles, swinging the peep-toes by their ankle straps. As she passed the green glass Buddha, she rubbed his tummy – for luck, and to ward off any evil spirits that might be lurking in the shadows.

Two
    EARLY MORNING WAS the best time of day, especially after rain when everything looked washed and clean. The air was cool and fresh, the lallang emerald green, the flowers smelled honey-sweet, and a golden mist still held the heat of the sun at bay. It was also the time when she and her father had breakfast alone together.
    He was sitting at the table on the verandah, eating his boiled egg and toast while he read the
Straits Times
. Rex was stationed patiently under the table, hoping for crumbs to fall. She kissed the top of her father’s head and took her place next to him. The number two houseboy, Amith, fetched her papaya fruit and orange juice and poured out her coffee.
    ‘How did your bridge go, Daddy?’
    He smiled at her over the newspaper. ‘Badly. Too many good players at the club these days. Did you have a nice evening with the Bensons, poppet?’
    It was always poppet, never Susan – unless he was angry with her, which was very rare.
    ‘Not particularly.’
    ‘Meet anyone interesting?’
    ‘They’d invited some Australian army doctors from the Alexandra but I wouldn’t call them interesting. One of them was extremely rude. According to him, we’re all having far too much fun when we ought to be worrying about the Japs attacking us. I told him they’d never dare.’
    ‘Oh, I think the Japs would dare anything, but it doesn’t seem likely that they could succeed.’
    ‘Mr Know-All thought they could. According to him, they’re very clever and we underestimate them.’
    ‘He might have a point there.’
    ‘He also said that the English have transported England to Singapore. Lock, stock and barrel, were the words he used. Except for the weather.’
    Her father smiled. ‘Well, it’s true, I’m afraid. It wasn’t like that in the early days but with more and more white
memsahibs
coming out here, Singapore’s getting rather like Surbiton. We’re losing touch with the native Singapore and that’s a great pity.’
    ‘Surbiton?’
    ‘A suburban district on the edge of London. I used to stay there with an aged aunt in the school holidays sometimes. You’d think it was a very boring place, poppet. I did.’
    ‘Is it anywhere near Esher?’
    ‘Yes, very near. Why?’
    ‘I just wondered. I met someone who came from there.’ She started on the papaya. ‘Anything in the newspaper?’
    ‘Nothing good. Moscow’s still under siege. I hope to God the Russians manage to hold out against the Germans. It’s bitterly cold there and deep snow. Poor wretches, fighting in those conditions. It must be hell for any soldier, whichever side he’s on.’
    Amith was moving softly about with dishes, the birds were twittering and tweeting in their cages, the mynahs chattering in the trees, cicadas in full chorus, Arjun, the
kebun
, rhythmically scything the lallang and the sun beginning to break through