Singapore Grip - J. G. Farrell [88]
Later, refreshed by his bath and wearing a light linen suit, Matthew was on the point of leaving for the Blacketts’ house when the telephone rang. It was Ehrendorf. In the few days which Matthew had now spent in Singapore the two friends had so far managed only one brief meeting. The reason, undoubtedly, was that Ehrendorf was extremely busy. With the rapid decay of the political situation in the Far East his services, Matthew surmised, must be in constant demand for the assessment of British military strength and strategy. However, Matthew was aware of a new feeling of constraint in his friendship with Ehrendorf. How different it was now from the way it had been before! He could not help contrasting that strained meeting at the aerodrome and the subsequent drive into Singapore with their previous meetings in Europe. Matthew, though by nature unobservant, was well aware that Joan was somehow at the root of this new awkwardness. He supposed that Ehrendorf and Joan had had some sort of affair; he remembered the melancholy sigh he had heard from the darkness at the Mayfair on the night of his arrival. But why should that affect his relationship with Ehrendorf?
On the telephone, Ehrendorf sounded more friendly and cheerful, more like his old self. He asked Matthew how he was going to spend the evening, suggesting that they should have a meal together. Matthew explained that Monty had just enlisted him to watch an Irishwoman being fired from a cannon. Perhaps Ehrendorf would like to come, too? As a ‘military observer’ it could almost be considered his duty.
‘OK, I’ll meet you at The Great World. There’s a place where they sell tickets at the main gate, something like the lodge of an Oxford college (inside you’ll find it’s more interesting, though!).’ And Ehrendorf rang off. It was only on his way to the Blacketts’ that Matthew remembered … Joan would be there, too. And that might cause some difficulty.
Presently Matthew found himself in the Blacketts’ drawingroom, waiting for Monty and Joan. While the elderly major-domo went off at a dignified pace to alert some member of the family to his presence Matthew took a quick look at the portrait of his father which hung at the end of the room, then he went to sit down on a sofa. A Chinese ‘boy’ came and placed a packet of cigarettes and some matches at his elbow and then silently withdrew, leaving him alone except for a long-haired Siamese cat curled up on the floor: this was Kate’s beloved pet, Ming Toy. He scooped it up and sat it on his lap. It opened its eyes for a moment, then closed them again.
‘Are you a tom-cat, I wonder?’ he asked the cat, lifting its magnificent tail to inspect its private parts. He began to rummage about in the animal’s fur, peering at it closely for signs of gender. The cat began to purr. Matthew was in the middle of this careful inspection of the cat’s hindquarters (its fur was so long and thick one could only guess at what it might conceal) when Walter came into the room. He gave Matthew a rather odd look. Matthew hurriedly let go of the splendid tail and put the cat back on the carpet.
‘You’re just the man I wanted to see,’ said Walter. ‘I want you to look at some of these paintings of Rangoon and Singapore in the early days.’
20
‘So there you are, my boy, is that not an achievement to be proud of? Over this great area of the globe, covered in steaming swamp and mountain and horrid, horrid jungle, a few determined pioneers, armed only with a little capital and a great creative vision, set the mark of civilization,