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By Root 5923 0

the air here was pleasantly cool. Joan had exchanged her white cotton frock for a dress of green silk with padded shoulders and leg-of-mutton sleeves. Now that she had removed her turban her sable ringlets tumbled charmingly over her cheeks. Matthew, however, could not help staring at her legs; if he feasted his eyes on them so greedily it was not because they were unusually well shaped (though they were) but because she was wearing silk stockings which had become a luxury in England in the past year. Unfortunately, both Monty and Joan had noticed the direction of his gaze; he saw them exchange a sly glance.

‘Kate!’

Kate had been hovering for some time in the next room anxiously awaiting the right moment to make a casual entry. She had been allowed to wear her best dress for besides Matthew an important RAF personage had been invited to supper. Now here she was, looking self-conscious. There was a moment of awkwardness, then she and Matthew shook hands. Kate blushed furiously and, stepping back, almost fell over a chair she had not noticed.

‘You know what?’

‘What?’

‘If we were having steak for supper we could grill it on Kate’s cheeks.’

‘Mother, will you make him stop!’

‘Really, Monty,’ said Mrs Blackett wearily.

Snatching up a magazine Kate went to throw herself down on a sofa at the other end of the room. She did not open the magazine, however, but instead picked up a Siamese cat which had been curled up on the floor and began stroking and kissing it, ignoring the rest of the company.

‘It’s so nice to have a chance to talk,’ said Mrs Blackett, ‘before the others arrive.’

There was a murmur of assent but then silence fell again. Monty glanced at his watch; Joan yawned behind scarlet fingernails. Kate continued to stroke the cat at great speed, occasionally planting a kiss on the wincing animal.

Walter came back presently and took a seat beside Matthew, explaining that he had invited Brooke-Popham, the Commander-in-Chief, Far East, and a member of his staff to supper; earlier in the day he had attended a meeting with them about rice distribution. For the truth was, he went on, that in the event of hostilities in the Pacific, Malaya could find her food supplies in jeopardy, at least in the long run, because the greater part of the country’s rice had to be imported. Ten years of effort (he himself had served on the Rice Cultivation Committee set up in 1930) still had not induced the native smallholders to grow rice instead of rubber. They were too idle. What could you do with such people?

‘I suppose they think that rubber is more profitable,’ suggested Matthew.

‘I suppose they do,’ agreed Walter.

‘And they’re right, aren’t they?’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that, exactly.’ Walter’s tone was casual but he glanced sharply at Matthew as he spoke. ‘There have been great variations in demand, of course, for rubber. Point is they can’t eat it in bad times. Otherwise it would be the perfect crop for a country like this. Rice involves too much hard work. Anyway, there it is, we have to import it in vast quantities to feed the estate workers.’

‘Perhaps the estates should grow rice …’ murmured Matthew. ‘It seems unfair to expect the smallholders to grow a less profitable crop simply to allow the estates to go on growing the more profitable crop …’

‘Ah, but we haven’t agreed that rice is less profitable.’

‘In that case why do the estates …?’

‘Drat!’ exclaimed Mrs Blackett, hearing a distant bell. ‘They’re arriving already and just as we were beginning to have a nice talk.’

Walter had risen before Matthew had time to finish what he was saying. But even so, Mrs Blackett reached the door before he did. It opened to admit Dupigny in his billowing white suit. He and Mrs Blackett exchanged greetings. As she made to lead him deeper into the room she said: ‘You, François, who always keep so well in touch, must tell us what you think.’

‘Of what, Mrs Blackett?’

‘Of the situation,’ she replied vaguely.

‘My dear Mrs Blackett, if you want my opinion the Japs will overrun us in a twinkling. First they exhaust us in the jungle. Then