The Plantation - Di Morrissey [133]
They both paused, blinking in the cool darkness after the bright sunlight. In front of them was a large foyer, filled with stands of bamboo in blue and white ceramic pots. A large, ornate gold-framed mirror on one of the walls reflected the heavy, dark, carved furniture, while delicate wooden screens divided the rest of the room. The floor was covered in large old black and white tiles and edged in a gold geometric pattern. Above them, a ceiling fan turned gently.
A youthful Chinese man came to meet them, impeccably dressed in dark pants and a neat white shirt. Christopher introduced Julie and himself.
‘I’m Ti Yung. You’re the wedding couple?’ the young man asked in a faint American accent.
‘That’s right. We’re interested in a small, elegant reception as well as booking some rooms for the wedding guests and bridal party,’ said Christopher shaking Ti’s hand.
‘Is it possible to look at the rooms, to see if they are suitable?’ asked Julie, glancing around. ‘This doesn’t appear to be the usual kind of hotel.’
‘You are right. It’s not your usual hotel, not even your usual boutique hotel. But I’m sorry, all our rooms are fully booked at present. I can show you the function room. Could you give me some details first, please? This way.’ He gestured towards two wing-back chairs, both covered in brocade, which faced a large table in the corner. It clearly served as a desk. Ti waited for them to be seated before taking his place opposite them.
He slid a silver pen and a printed sheet towards Christopher. ‘If you’d like to fill in the details. What date did you have in mind?’
Christopher completed several lines of the form and handed it to Julie, who took it absentmindedly. She was distracted by a series of framed formal photographs of elderly Chinese men and women, which hung from the picture rail on thin gold chains.
‘Who are those people?’ she asked.
Ti didn’t look up from his diary. ‘They are members of the original Tsang family. For several generations this used to be their private residence, but the upkeep became too expensive. The place was left empty for some years until our parent company made an offer for it and then renovated it and set it up as a hotel.’
‘When was that?’ asked Christopher.
‘We opened two years ago but the restoration took a few years. Many people, including the government itself, realised that the heritage buildings here in Penang, as in Malacca and other Malaysian places, can be valuable tourism assets.’
‘That’s so interesting,’ said Julie. ‘Is there a family history of this place?’
Ti took the form from Julie. ‘We run tours of the house two mornings a week, but only the public areas so the guests are not disturbed. You might like to come along one morning. There’s one tour tomorrow at ten am. It will give you a better idea of how things were in the old days. Now, you haven’t put the date for your wedding on the form.’
Christopher looked at Julie.
‘Seventh of September,’ she said firmly.
‘A propitious date, I have no doubt. Very well. If you would like to follow me, we’ll go to the function room. There’s a side entrance through to the garden so you won’t have to come through the front of the hotel.’ Ti waved a hand into the shadows behind the screens. ‘There’s a tea-room through there, as well as a small bar. We’ve tried to keep some of the rooms as they were originally, but updated their function. Downstairs, for example, part of the old indoor kitchen has been turned into a suite, and it still includes the old brick stove.’
‘It all sounds different, even unique,’ said Julie, looking at Christopher as they walked past a dark-blue iron spiral staircase. The interior of the house was cool but Julie found its dimness unsettling. She couldn’t imagine a happy, sun-loving Australian woman feeling comfortable in this. But then they walked around a corner and entered an open-air courtyard. Here, the sun poured down. A fountain splashed in the centre of it and raised cement tubs held ornamental flowers and plants. Stone benches sat against the old stone walls.
‘How lovely!