The Plantation - Di Morrissey [138]
Christopher didn’t reply at first, but rolled onto his side and gently smoothed her hair. ‘You look pretty first thing in the morning.’
She pulled the sheet over her face. ‘I didn’t even wash my face last night.’
‘We had better things to do.’ He pulled the sheet away and kissed her nose. ‘In a way I wish this hadn’t happened …’ As she started to protest, he put a finger to her lips. ‘I feel very attracted to you and now I’m going to miss you. Wonder about you …’
‘Me too … But I have to go back, Chris. I’d love to stay longer.’
‘I know, I know. Of course you have to. Listen, we just have to keep in touch, keep in contact,’ he said. ‘Speaking of contact …’ He grabbed her and the intensity of their looming separation was dissipated as they playfully wrestled before clinging to one another, making love once more, this time the passion more tender, more poignant.
They went out to the street and sat at a street stall together while Chris watched in amazement as Julie downed a huge breakfast.
‘Where are you putting all that?’
‘I’m going back to Brisbane … It’s hard to find food like this at home! I’m making the most of it.’
Before he returned to Butterworth, Christopher drove her to the airport for her flight to Kuala Lumpur.
‘It won’t be too long till we see each other again. I just know it. We’ll work something out. Keep me posted about Aunt Bette.’
She nodded, finding it hard to speak.
He kissed her and then handed her a small package. ‘Nothing sinister. You’ll be right going through security,’ he said, giving her a quick hug before watching her walk away.
She opened the package on the plane and found that Christopher had given her a small book of watercolour paintings of Penang including one of Rose Mansion. Later on the flight, to distract herself from thinking too much about him, she delved in her bag and pulled out the copy of Bette’s pamphlet that Angie Ping from the Kuching museum had given her and read it.
Julie gazed out the window at the clouds shielding the view below. She imagined that she was far above the mist-shrouded dark jungles of Borneo and the passion of her aunt’s words, written so long ago, struck a powerful chord with her.
These affable, clever, playful, loving creatures are among our nearest living relatives. The wanton destruction of their jungle home, the stealing and murder of their families, is as unnecessary as war, genocide and the worst kind of human behaviour. Let us leave the orangutans in peace and learn from them.
Almost fifty years ago, Bette had feared for the future of orangutans. Sadly, Julie reflected, her aunt had been right. Those issues that Bette had raised all those years ago had not yet been addressed, and the great apes were now critically endangered.
Julie was happy to be home. The minute she walked out of the airport into bright sunshine she realised how she’d missed the clear blue skies of Brisbane. She had not enjoyed the grey pall that hung above Malaysia so much of the time. And it was nice to be back in her neat, white, calming cottage. How quiet and reclusive her street seemed after the clutter, noise and energy of the streets in Malaysia. She then drove to her mother’s house and walked around the garden with her father while her mother made tea.
‘This has been quite an eventful trip,’ commented Paul. ‘Your mother is quite stunned by your news. Excited too, of course.’
‘It is quite a story. I suppose it’s not so unusual to have these kinds of secrets in a family,’ said Julie. ‘I’m sure we’re not the only ones.’
Her father nodded. ‘Your mother watches those TV shows where they find lost relatives and so on. There’s always some twist and surprise and a secret revealed. As a matter of fact, I know a fellow whose wife was perfectly happy, grew up with an older sister and when her mother died she was going though some documents and found out at the age of fifty that she had been adopted. On top of that was the revelation that her older sister had known all along. It certainly rocked her and she took some time to get over that little family secret.’
‘How