The Plantation - Di Morrissey [108]
‘The Brookes, the White Rajahs, they seem such an amazing family. Do you remember them? I’ve seen the places they built in Kuching. Their rule in Sarawak seems to be like something out of a novel,’ said Julie.
‘I’m glad you’ve been to Sarawak. While it’s a very different place from when I grew up there, it’s still very lovely. Yes, I remember Sir Charles Vyner Brooke very clearly. He was a lovely old gentleman, very proper and charming. When my parents and I came into Kuching, which was a few times a year, he would always meet us. He always knew my name and asked after my brothers. Occasionally we would be asked to the palace for dinner. He never seemed to mind when my parents brought me along.
‘He always said that all the Europeans working for him had to be accessible to everyone. The locals had to be able to speak to them directly, and that included the rajah. So every evening the Dayaks, Malays and Chinese used to go to the palace and talk to him and tell him what their problems were. He even invited the Dayaks to drink with him, but at eight a gun was fired and that signalled the time for the rajah’s dinner and everyone had to leave. Then we would go across to the palace and join him for dinner. It’s impossible to forget memories like that.’
‘And after the war, you went back to the UK? I know from Peter and Shane that you have a family. Can I ask about it? Do you have grandchildren?’ asked Julie.
‘Oh, yes, tribes of them back in Scotland. Some of them have been out here for holidays with me because I loathe the cold winters in Scotland, but of course they don’t have the same affection for this place as I do.’
The two women had settled themselves at the table under a fan, their backs to the glaring white sand and the stretch of blue water.
‘When you look at this peaceful setting, the war must be a distant memory. Or do those years come back to haunt?’ asked Julie tentatively.
‘Haunt isn’t the right word. I didn’t talk about it much for many years. But now, what does it matter? Oddly enough, I don’t remember when the war actually started, but I know that my parents thought that we would be able to sit it out on the river where we lived because it was so remote. Then they realised that by staying up-country, they were putting the lives of the Dayaks, whom they loved, at risk. If the Japanese found out that they were sheltering us, they would have been severely punished. So my father made the decision to turn ourselves in. We made our way to Kuching and my father was taken to one camp and Mother and I went to another.’
‘How terrible it must have been for you,’ said Julie, wondering how she would have felt if, as a twelve year old, she had been separated from her father in such a brutal way.
‘I believe that I was very fortunate to survive and so I’ve put it behind me but, occasionally, some small thing will trigger a memory. And what I remember most is not the Japanese soldiers who guarded us, although it is impossible to forget them, but the women who were strong, resourceful, trying their best to be positive. Women like my mother, keeping the little ones fed, occupied and hopeful. It couldn’t have been easy. They went without, they stood up to the Japanese, and they continually fought so hard just to keep us all alive.’
‘And my Great Aunt Bette? Was she one of these women?’
Marjorie smiled. ‘She was one of the best. She was a leader, in spite of her age, she was only about twenty-one. She took some terrible risks. She was a fierce little tiger, always protecting Philip. Amazing, actually, when I think back. I mean Philip was her nephew, not her own child, and yet I know that she could not have done more for him.’
‘I’d love to know more about her and Philip,’ said Julie.
‘I understand that. When Martine and Shane rang me to suggest that I might like to meet you, I was very happy to do so, and the flight from Penang is very short, but before I tell you about Bette and Philip, there’s something that I’d like to show you.’
Marjorie leaned across and picked up a small