The Plantation - Di Morrissey [132]
‘You can come back any time. Shane and Peter told you that. So you’re lucky in that respect, you could come for holidays every year! And there’s a lot more to see of Malaysia. The beaches half an hour from here are popular, although, to tell the truth, they’re not nearly as good as the ones on the Gold or Sunshine coasts and there are a lot of resorts.’ He caught her expression and smiled. ‘And you haven’t been to the mountains or many of the islands. There are so many places I keep thinking I must go and see, too.’
‘I know, I’ve just been so bound up in my own personal journey. Even my parents and brother don’t know everything I’ve discovered, and I think they’ll be pretty excited when I tell them.’
‘You’ll certainly have a lot to talk about when you get home. Now, would you like to take a bit of a walk? It’s all quite colourful around here. Then we can grab a taxi and I’ll drop you off.’
‘This has been fun, thanks, Chris. Where are you staying?’
‘I’m bunking down at a mate’s flat. His parents have a place here. They never mind when I use it.’ He linked his arm through hers as they pushed their way through the jostling crowd. ‘I have tomorrow free. Could I come with you to Rose Mansion, or do you want to plough through the nostalgia there on your own?’
‘I’d love you to come with me tomorrow! And it’s not at all nostalgic as I’ve only just heard of the place, so we can nose around it together.’
Julie stood speechless as the taxi pulled away leaving her and Christopher staring at the enormous old mansion. The street was wide, and lined with similarly grand old buildings that appeared to be either consulates or wealthy private homes, although one house on the corner was a private club. Beside the ornate double doors of number 211 was a discreet sign in gold lettering indicating that this was the ‘Hotel Tsang’. The building faced the sea and behind the tall fence with its security gate, a short driveway curved through formal gardens. Julie instantly noticed the topiaried shrubs, every tree and plant pruned and clipped to such perfection that they almost looked plastic. The soft peach pink stucco three-storey mansion had gold filigree trim around all the windows. The red tiled roofline supported colourful figurines, flowers and birds at the corners and on the eaves. To Julie the size of the windows suggested that the rooms would be huge.
‘It’s pretty formal,’ said Christopher. ‘I feel as though we’re at some palace. It looks like it would be an expensive hotel, too.’
‘It’s stunning. I can’t believe it was once a family home, let alone my family!’ said Julie. ‘It’s been brilliantly maintained. I wonder what the view is like. This splendour isn’t quite what I’d imagined. Do you think they’ll let us in?’
‘Let’s say we want to make a reservation,’ said Christopher, leading her to the sentry box that stood at the entrance to the driveway.
An elderly Indian security guard looked at them enquiringly. ‘You wish to speak to a guest?’ he asked, lifting up the phone in the security box.
‘We’d like to make a reservation,’ said Christopher.
The security guard pushed a number and handed him the phone.
Christopher spoke smoothly, explaining that they were interested in making reservations for a group to stay and they also wanted to organise a small reception. ‘Yes, a wedding,’ he said, winking at Julie. He handed the phone back to the Indian who raised the boom gate and waved them through.
They walked along the driveway admiring the gardens. Two pretty rose and blue antique rickshaws with elaborate designs painted on their sides and canvas awnings stood to one side of two rampant stone lions that were guarding the front steps.
Christopher took Julie’s hand and led her up the steps. One of the huge carved doors stood open, its entrance flanked by two shiny brass pots, each holding