Part 46 (1/2)

Presently they came to the entrance beneath an archway on which was written in streamlined neon script: The Great World. The Great World. Here a dense crowd of men and women struggled for admission; among them several men in uniform. Suddenly a man in a lighter uniform caught Matthew by the arm: it was Ehrendorf. 'I just got here this moment,' he said cheerfully. 'Hi there, Monty! Hiya Joan!' Here a dense crowd of men and women struggled for admission; among them several men in uniform. Suddenly a man in a lighter uniform caught Matthew by the arm: it was Ehrendorf. 'I just got here this moment,' he said cheerfully. 'Hi there, Monty! Hiya Joan!'

'What a surprise,' said Monty without surprise.

'Jim, I'm not sure that you know, ah, Sinclair ...' said Matthew.

'Let's get inside before we get crushed to death,' said Joan, ignoring Ehrendorf. 'These soldiers smell like pigs.'

'Look, I just want to hire someone to watch my car while I'm inside so could you wait a moment?' said Ehrendorf, his cheerfulness evaporating. 'I'm afraid the local gashouse gang will have it stripped down if ...'

But the young Blacketts had pressed on through the entrance dragging the hesitating Matthew and Sinclair with them.

'Look, shouldn't we wait for Jim?'

'Don't worry, he'll find us all right.'

Matthew had a last glimpse of Ehrendorf's face as Monty propelled him through the entrance and was harrowed to see the expression of suffering on it.

'See you in a minute then,' Ehrendorf called after them and hurried away.

21.

Matthew now found that he had been shoved into a great circular concourse in the middle of which stood a thicket of bamboo and palms. On one hand was an open-air cafe whose tables were thronged with rowdy troops drinking beer, on the other a billiards saloon through the tall open windows of which Matthew glimpsed green pyramids of smoke-filled light above the tables and oriental faces glimmering in the surrounding darkness. Farther along was a great hall from within which there came the regular thump of drums and sighing of saxophones.

Together they struck off through the crowd which in some places was so thick that they had to shoulder their way through, pa.s.sing along a street of stalls with corrugated-iron roofs and flimsy, brightly lit fronts. Some of these stalls were open-air eating-houses festooned with lurid, naked, pink-eyed chickens hung by their necks on hooks, lidded eyes closed in death; beside them were piled varnished ducks and lumps of meat swimming in grease and studded with fat flies gorging themselves; next to the meat laboured a wizened specialist in fish dumplings, and next to him a family of plump Malays beside bubbling cauldrons of nasi padang nasi padang, giant prawns, curried eggs, nuts and ikan bilis ikan bilis (dried fish no bigger than your fingernail), all being shovelled on to plates or twisted in cones of leaves. Here a groaning lady was being sawn in half, there another was being put through a mincer with blood horribly gus.h.i.+ng out underneath; next came a shooting-gallery where an Australian sergeant in his wide-brimmed hat was using an air-rifle to smash blackened light-bulbs to the jeers of his comrades, and a striptease stall; a neighbouring stall displayed a sign warning of (dried fish no bigger than your fingernail), all being shovelled on to plates or twisted in cones of leaves. Here a groaning lady was being sawn in half, there another was being put through a mincer with blood horribly gus.h.i.+ng out underneath; next came a shooting-gallery where an Australian sergeant in his wide-brimmed hat was using an air-rifle to smash blackened light-bulbs to the jeers of his comrades, and a striptease stall; a neighbouring stall displayed a sign warning of Waning Virility Waning Virility: 'Please swallow our Sunlight Pill for Male Persons, Moonlight Pill for Female Persons. Guaranteed.' Beneath the sign was a display of medicine bottles together with a crude and alarming diagram in coloured crayon which was evidently intended to represent s.e.xual organs.

As Matthew paused to study it his arm was suddenly taken by a tall and slender Tamil girl with a pigtail (in which jasmine flowers were intricately braided) hanging to her waist. He nudged up his spectacles to see her better, gazing with surprise into her dark face where a silver stud gleamed in the whorl of each nostril. She was very pretty and he would have liked to talk to her, but the others were already disappearing; and so he disengaged himself apologetically and hurried after them, his heart thumping. How exciting it all was, how much more interesting than Geneva!

Now, hurrying through the crowds in search of his friends, he almost ran full tilt into a makes.h.i.+ft stage (merely boards and trestles) on which a Chinese opera was taking place. Actors and actresses in glorious costumes were declaiming in a penetrating falsetto, impervious to the scene-s.h.i.+fter in khaki shorts and singlet and with a cigarette dangling from his mouth who was rearranging the furniture around them. One of them, with a forked beard reaching to his knees, stalked off into the wings, rolling his eyes in histrionic rage, and a murmur went up from the crowd of Chinese who had gathered to watch. On his way round the side to rejoin the alley which he had left Matthew found himself gazing into the dressing-room, for the sides and back of this miniature theatre were covered only by cloth hangings blowing about in the breeze and allowing him a glimpse of the actresses making-up for the next scene: elaborately rouged and pink-powdered faces glared at mirrors while tweezers prepared a further a.s.sault on already well-plucked eyebrows. Several tiny Chinese girls clung to wooden spars also peering in at this arresting sight.

Afraid that he had lost his friends altogether, he pressed on; his progress was slow, nevertheless, for his attention was captured by various wonders which sprang up one after another: a man selling bunches of dried frogs tied together by their legs, a family of acrobats turning somersaults, a stall selling the juices of unfamiliar fruits by the gla.s.s, a wizened cas.h.i.+er in a bamboo cage, satay satay morsels skewered on hundreds of bamboo spills roasting over charcoal, sellers of morsels skewered on hundreds of bamboo spills roasting over charcoal, sellers of soto soto soup, and soup, and won ton mee won ton mee, and apple fritters fizzing in rancid-smelling oil, and nasi goreng nasi goreng, and heavenly ice-cream flavoured with mango and durian, and the durian itself, so desired and so dreaded for its peculiar odour, piled in pyramids like cannonb.a.l.l.s ... and other astonis.h.i.+ng sights and events beyond description, taking place, too, in a street crowded with men and women of every shape, size and colour, from a family of performing pygmies, to the graceful, delicate Chinese, to floury, bucolic British and Dutch in voluminous khaki shorts; and accompanied by a cacophony of musical instruments and gramophones in an atmosphere heavy with perfume, incense, sandalwood, sweat and tobacco smoke in the soft, humid air of the tropics.

Matthew recalled the conversation he had had earlier in the evening with Walter and began to ponder the commercial enterprise which had brought about this extraordinary mixture of races and cultures. It was as if the sudden appearance of Western capital in Malaya had created a vacuum which had sucked in people from all the surrounding countries and from much farther away. Would this nation of transients who had come to seek a livelihood under the British Crown one day become a nation with a culture of its own, created somehow out of its own diversity? It had happened in America, certainly, but would it happen here where the divergences of culture were even greater than they had been among the American immigrants? Was a colony like Malaya, as the Communists claimed, a mere sweat-shop for cheap labour operated in the interests of capitalism by cynical Western governments? Or was Western capital (which included his own capital, too, now that his father had died; he must not forget that!) ... or was Western capital, as Walter insisted, a fructifying influence bringing life and hope to millions by making hitherto unused land productive? Or was it perhaps both things at the same time? (Had not Marx himself suggested something of the sort?) To what extent were the affairs of the Straits Settlements and Federated Malay States directed by Britain with the welfare of their inhabitants at heart and to what extent with British commercial interests? that was the root of the question! Matthew had halted again, perturbed. He could see Monty and Joan and Sinclair not too far ahead and he wanted to think this out before rejoining them. But at this moment something odd happened.

Among the strollers, diners and revellers Matthew had been aware, while sinking his teeth into these weighty problems, of a number of painted girls, Chinese or Eurasian, unusually graceful and attractive in their high-collared, straight-cut Shanghai gowns, slit at the side to above the knee. These girls wore their blue-black hair short and marcelled in the Western fas.h.i.+on, but as Matthew stood there, immobilized by thought, he could not help noticing that one of them, strolling arm in arm with another girl, was not only wearing a Western summer frock but also wore her hair long and loose. And even more surprising, for she seemed to be Chinese, when she pa.s.sed in front of a brightly lit food-stall her hair, which had seemed to be as black as her companion's, glowed dark red around the edges, like a bottle of red ink held up against the light.

She was saying something to the girl beside her and accompanying her words with a sweet smile which revealed a glimmer of white teeth. Matthew, captivated by her appearance, could not help staring at her. Looking up, she noticed his glance and gave a start of surprise, as if she recognized him. With a word to her companion she came boldly up to him, still smiling, and said in a low voice: 'Matthew, I knew your father.' Then, since Matthew merely goggled at her, she went on: 'He was very kind to me. I was so sorry when he died! My name is Vera Chiang ... I saw you when you came to the Mayfair with Mr and Miss Blackett, who has also been kind to me ... and she is beautiful, too, don't you think? just like Joan Crawford she reminds me of, so lovely ... and now, Matthew, you are all alone in the world ...' Her eyes had filled with tears of sympathy.

'Good gracious!' murmured Matthew and continued to peer at her in astonishment. He cleared his throat, however, in order to say something more adequate and was about to nudge his gla.s.ses up on his nose, but she took hold of his hand and clasped it feelingly in both of hers, saying: 'I was in trouble and your dear father, like a saint of heaven, from the depths of my misery gave me ”a bunk up” (please excuse my slang expression of speaking!) and now he has died, it is so sad, it really does give me ”the blues” when I think about it and sometimes at night I cry by myself, yes, but forgive me, for you it must be very much worse than for me!' And with emotion she clasped his hand tightly to her chest with both of hers.

'Actually, my father and I weren't all that ...'

'Yes, I know know how you were feeling when you heard this news and I thought ”Poor Matthew” because your father had shown me a ”snap” of you when small baby and I wondered: ”In whatever country in the world will this news reach him?” and your father had told me that when one day he was no more, you, his only son, would be left alone in the world because your dear mother had ”kicked the bucket” long ago and there was no one else to look after you.' On an impulse she flicked open a b.u.t.ton of her frock and gently slipped his hand through the opening, clasping it with both of hers more tightly than ever to comfort him, with the result that Matthew now found his rather damp palm moulding what appeared to be, well, a naked breast: whatever it was, it was certainly silky, soft, plastic, agreeably resistant and satisfying to the touch. He continued to stand there for some moments enjoying this unusually pleasant sensation, though distinctly bewildered. Meanwhile, they gazed into each other's eyes, hypnotized, and currents of feeling flowed back and forth between them. how you were feeling when you heard this news and I thought ”Poor Matthew” because your father had shown me a ”snap” of you when small baby and I wondered: ”In whatever country in the world will this news reach him?” and your father had told me that when one day he was no more, you, his only son, would be left alone in the world because your dear mother had ”kicked the bucket” long ago and there was no one else to look after you.' On an impulse she flicked open a b.u.t.ton of her frock and gently slipped his hand through the opening, clasping it with both of hers more tightly than ever to comfort him, with the result that Matthew now found his rather damp palm moulding what appeared to be, well, a naked breast: whatever it was, it was certainly silky, soft, plastic, agreeably resistant and satisfying to the touch. He continued to stand there for some moments enjoying this unusually pleasant sensation, though distinctly bewildered. Meanwhile, they gazed into each other's eyes, hypnotized, and currents of feeling flowed back and forth between them.

At this moment a torrent of inebriated Dutch sailors, their arms on each other's shoulders, half running, half dancing the remains of a drunken hornpipe, scattering the crowd right and left, suddenly came bearing down on them. One moment Matthew was standing there, immobilized by the question of colonial welfare and progress, with the damp palm of his hand neatly moulding a young woman's naked breast, the next he was being jostled by a crowd of chuckling Chinese as they fled before the hornpiping sailors. He was pushed this way and that. He and the young woman were sundered ... the hand through which such agreeable sensations had been flowing was brushed away, his spectacles dislodged from his nose and swung perilously from one ear as he struggled to keep his balance. Now a gale of deep-throated laughter blew in his ear, his wrists were grabbed and slung around enormous damp necks, powerful hands closed round his chest, and the next instant he had been whisked away as part of a giant spider's web of sailors from which one or two diminutive Chinese were struggling like flies to extricate themselves. Matthew found himself carried along in a blur of rus.h.i.+ng lights and figures, swaying and horn-piping at a terrifying speed, his feet hardly touching the ground, until at last the spider's web's progress was arrested by cras.h.i.+ng into a tent where what might have been some rather intimate ma.s.sage seemed to be taking place. By the time that he, too, had managed to disengage himself and adjust his spectacles, which by a miracle he had not lost (he would have been helpless without them), he was some distance from where he had seen the girl. He went back a little way, looking for her, but the crowd had surged over the place where they had been standing and he could no longer even be quite sure where it had been.

He felt a hand on his arm. He turned and found that it was Monty.

'We thought we'd lost you. What have you been up to? Come on, it's this way.'

'Monty, I must tell you, a really strange thing just happened ...'

But Monty was anxious not to miss the beginning of the show and without waiting to hear any more had set off again towards a distant spot-lit enclosure. From that direction, too, there now came a high-pitched, piercing laugh, like the creaking of a dry pump, or perhaps the lonely cry of a peac.o.c.k in the dusk.

22.

A considerable crowd had a.s.sembled to witness the unusual sight of a European lady being fired from a cannon; canvas awnings had been erected to screen the event from those reluctant to pay the price of admission but here and there the fabric was torn and small boys fought for places at peepholes. Inside the enclosure an elaborate scene had been set: on the right stood the cannon, its long barrel, mottled with green and brown camouflage in the best military manner, protruding from a two-dimensional cardboard castle on which was written Fortress Singapore. Fortress Singapore. Behind the cannon loomed the giant papiermache heads of Chiang Kai-shek and King George VI, the former with a legend hung round his neck: Behind the cannon loomed the giant papiermache heads of Chiang Kai-shek and King George VI, the former with a legend hung round his neck: 'Kuo 'Kuo (Country), (Country), Min Min (People), (People), Tang Tang (Party). World friend with all Peace-loving Peoples!' together with a similar legend in Chinese ideographs beside it. 'G.o.d Save King' said a more prefunctory legend around the King's neck. (Party). World friend with all Peace-loving Peoples!' together with a similar legend in Chinese ideographs beside it. 'G.o.d Save King' said a more prefunctory legend around the King's neck.

On the left, at a distance of some fifty yards, stretched a large net and, in front of the net, an impressively realistic armoured-car constructed of paper and thin wooden laths. From its turret there reared, like snakes from a basket, a fistful of hideously grinning bespectacled heads in military caps; towering above these heads, like a king cobra ready to strike, was yet another bespectacled snake's head which was surely, thought Matthew, intended as a caricature of the young Emperor Hirohito. Any doubt but that this was intended to be the cannon's target was dispelled by a sign on the armoured-car which declared: 'Hated Invader of Beloved China Homeland.'

'But where are the Da Sousa Sisters?' demanded Monty. 'I thought they were part of the show.' The programme he had bought consisted of a single folded sheet, on the outside of which was a blurred photograph of a bulky, helmeted figure, presumably the human ammunition; inside, it read: 1 Advance of atrocious enemy.

2 Cannon fires.

3 Miss Olive Kennedy-Walsh, BA (Pa.s.s Arts), H Dip Ed, TCD will hurtle through air towards advancing disagreeable aggressor.

4 Treacherous aggressor smashed. (Mgt not responsible.) 5 Voluntary contributions to China Heroic War Effort gratefully received.

6 G.o.d sake King.

7 End.

8 Please to exit. Thank you for custom.

Paper model supplied courtesy Chou & Son, Undertaker and Funeral Preparation. All Religions catered for. Sago Lane, Singapore.'End as you wish you had begun.'

'Oh, that's nothing,' said Monty to Matthew, who had remarked on the excellence of the imitation armoured-car. 'You should see the Cadillacs and houses and ocean liners and whatnot they make for rich towkays towkays to take away with them to the next world. It's a skilled profession. The Chinese can be pretty simple-minded,' he added with a sneer. to take away with them to the next world. It's a skilled profession. The Chinese can be pretty simple-minded,' he added with a sneer.

'Where are are those suh ... suh ... suh ... sisters? This is a duh ... hm ... liberate swindle, don't you think so, Monty?' those suh ... suh ... suh ... sisters? This is a duh ... hm ... liberate swindle, don't you think so, Monty?'

But a pink-faced young planter nearby, overhearing Sinclair's complaint, a.s.sured him that the Da Sousa Sisters had already made their appearance. They had sung a number of songs, including 'Chocolate Soldier' and, of course, their signature tune: 'Halloa! halloa! halloa!' He doubted whether they would appear again that evening.

'Just our luck,' grumbled Monty.

'I don't think Jim will ever find us,' Matthew was saying, but at that moment he saw Ehrendorf shouldering his way into the enclosure. Meanwhile, a portable gramophone was being vigorously wound by one of the stage-hands. Another Chinese in a white dinner-jacket took the microphone. 'Just in time,' said Ehrendorf cheerfully. 'I wouldn't have missed this for anything.' Joan was sitting at the end of the row and he sat down next to her. But she stood up immediately, saying to Monty and Sinclair: 'Move along. I want to sit next to Matthew.' With some confusion, because the gap between the rows of seats was narrow, she struggled to the place which opened up between Sinclair and Matthew. Ehrendorf flushed and stared grimly down at the arena.

Now the star of the performance, Miss Kennedy-Walsh, was being announced: she was a strongly built woman in her thirties, dressed from head to foot in an aviator's suit of white silk which perfectly modelled her impressive figure: the audience murmured in appreciation of her well-formed thighs, her generous b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her strong jaw and pink face.

'Will she ever squeeze down the barrel?' joked Ehrendorf tensely.

'Big ah blests number one!' remarked a smartly dressed young Chinese beside Matthew giving the thumbs-up sign. Matthew had already noticed by the pin-ups displayed at the 'virility' stall how the Chinese seemed to admire big-bosomed women.