The Empire Trilogy - J. G. Farrell [705]
Matthew turned away, shocked, hoping that Adamson had managed to evacuate the thousands of Chinese families who lived on the river. Walter had joined him at the window, staring at the shining snake twisting all the way back to Anderson Bridge. He muttered: ‘Terrible! Terrible!’ and then turned away. ‘But look here,’ he went on, after a moment, ‘you forget the heavy responsibility that a businessman has to carry …’
‘Oh, Walter, please, not now. We must go.’ Matthew sniffed, certain he could see smoke eddying up between the bales of rubber. One of the sleeping bats stirred uneasily. But Walter had slumped heavily in his chair again.
‘You may think a responsibility to one’s shareholders is nothing of importance but I can assure you … Think of the poor widow, the clergyman, the spinster who has trusted her savings to your hands and whose very life may depend on the way you conduct your business. I can assure you, Matthew, that it makes you think twice when you have the well-being of other, perhaps vulnerable, people to protect. In the early days your father and I often used to work long into the night after everyone had gone … Yes, I sometimes used to fall asleep at this very desk here from sheer exhaustion … And what made me do it? I was quite simply afraid that Blackett and Webb, on whom so many poor people depended for their living, might have to pass their dividends! Yes, scoff if you want to, I don’t care!’
‘I don’t want to scoff, Walter. Of course I don’t! I just want us to leave here before it’s too late. We may be trapped.’
Walter again ignored him. ‘Well, I suppose the world was a different place in those days. The spirit of the times was quite different from the way it is now. Singapore was different, anyway, I can tell you that much! We had none of the comforts when I was a boy that people seem to expect these days. You would hardly believe it but we didn’t even have water you could drink out of a tap … In those days when my dear mother was alive she always used to filter it through a muslin dripston … you don’t see them any more but in those days … And did we have these fine roads and storm-drains and whatnot? Of course not. We had to put up with the monsoons as best we could. Sometimes the only way you could get about was in a rowing boat! Not like today when down comes the rain and it’s all over in a few minutes.’
‘Walter, I can hear a crackling sound from down below … Listen!’
Walter nodded sadly. ‘It was fun for us children, of course. Oh yes, we used to think it was great fun to have a change from the rickshaw. Mind you, we had fun in the rickshaws, too. Each of us kids had his own rickshaw and a coolie to himself. Yes. We used to make ’em race with us and see who’d win and we’d have a grand time. Yes … Grand! Grand!’
Matthew wafted the smoke away so that he could see Walter better. Then he took off his glasses, polished them with a dirty handkerchief and put them back over his smarting eyes. Walter’s massive head was bowed on his shoulders and he might almost have been asleep. He raised his head presently, however, and said: ‘Mind you, they were strict with us, too. Not like your father, Matthew, and his new-fangled ideas. Boys and girls all twined up together in the bath like a mess of snakes! That’s what they call education these days! And then they wonder why the kids go wrong. Well, I don’t know. When we children had our tea in the afternoon we had a Chinese “boy” to supervise us. And we had to be properly dressed into the bargain. Ah, how the girls hated to wear their stockings