The Empire Trilogy - J. G. Farrell [414]
‘Modern methods increase output. Peasants take to travel.’
‘But that’s tragic,’ burst out the Major unable to contain his indignation. ‘It’s disgraceful.’
Walter, however, paid no attention to him for that had not been the end of the story, by any means. Even in later years problems still used to crop up for the merchants. The Burmese, certainly, had been largely reduced to the status of coolies by the turn of the century, but Indians and Chinese, who understood western business methods better, had taken to setting up their own mills in the interior of the country and milling rice for export, thereby weakening the monopoly of the big European mills in Rangoon. When in 1920 Blackett and Webb and the other European millers tried as usual to keep the price of paddy down they failed and had to pay up (‘Those damned forward sales again!’). So the following year Blackett and Webb had joined the other three main European houses in the notorious Bullinger Pool to harmonize their buying and selling policies.
‘Well, that was nothing new. But someone … don’t ask me who! … used his influence with the railway company to make the freight charges for moving milled rice more expensive than for moving paddy.’ Walter chuckled with pleasure at this recollection of twenty years ago. ‘Result? The mills in the interior could no longer compete with Rangoon in the export trade. We were back on Easy Street!’ The Major muttered inaudibly, clasping his brow.
‘What’s that you say, Major! Complaints? Of course there were complaints! There always are. Nationalists brought it up in the Legislature in 1929. But that was nearly ten years later and when they held an enquiry it didn’t get anywhere. Besides, by that time world prices had collapsed and people had more important things to worry about.’
‘Rice sleuths’ freight enquiry comes off rails,’ scribbled the reporter fluently, stifling a yawn. How had Blackett and Webb come to be involved in rubber? He had to repeat his question because Walter was eyeing his guests to make sure that all was still going smoothly.
The Rhythmic Rascals had started playing once more: this time it was ‘Run, Rabbit, Run’. Down below, not far from the pool, one of the browsing military men stiffened for a moment, nose in the air, as if scenting RAF officers on the breeze. But Babington and his men were still safely downwind in the direction of the tennis courts. A moment later he resumed his drinking and chatting, though a shade more warily than before; white-coated waiters passed among the little flock carrying trays of champagne or pahits. Joan and Ehrendorf were still standing together, a little way apart from the other guests. Joan had just held out her glass to a waiter carrying a champagne bottle wrapped in a white napkin. Was it Walter’s imagination or did Ehrendorf flinch away slightly as she made a move to raise it to her lips?
It was certainly true that rice, explained Walter, turning back to his companions, was only one of many kinds of tropical produce to be handled by Blackett and Webb when the partnership had first been formed. But rubber rapidly became the most important. The years of old Mr Webb’s active business life, from about 1880 to 1930, had witnessed a prodigious exporting of capital from Britain to the colonial Empire: this capital’s role was to take advantage of the high investment returns attending the