The Plantation - Di Morrissey [185]
‘I do wish he could come home for holidays, but Roland says that it’s too dangerous at present. He thinks that Philip is better off in the UK. I expect that he’s right. He visits Roland’s mother, or stays in Scotland with some people that he knew in the POW camp.’
‘Have you thought of going away for a while?’ suggested Bill. ‘You could take Caroline to your parents, and you would probably feel more relaxed in Australia.’
‘Roland made the same suggestion,’ said Margaret non-committally.
‘So you’re happy here?’ asked Bill.
Margaret paused and looked away. ‘Sometimes I miss my home in Australia. Nothing here has been the same since the war. Many of my friends have gone and we can’t get about very much. I wonder how much longer this guerilla war will go on for. No one seems to be winning.’
‘How do you occupy yourself?’ asked Bill, thinking Margaret sounded lonely.
‘I spend a lot of time supervising the gardeners.’
‘I noticed. The grounds are looking very spectacular,’ said Bill.
‘I wish I could travel around more, but it’s not safe, although I always travel with a policeman. I meet my friends in Ipoh every few weeks, and Slim River isn’t too far away. In fact I’m going there tomorrow to do some shopping.’
‘Perhaps you and Roland could take a trip when things settle down,’ said Bill comfortingly, though he doubted that would be any time soon. He felt sorry for Margaret, the current situation had made things difficult for everyone, but especially for people on isolated plantations.
When Margaret returned from her outing to Slim River the next day, her cheeks were pink, and she seemed quite buoyed, almost agitated. She came straight out to the verandah where Roland and Bill were settled, and called Ho to bring her a drink. Almost as an afterthought she asked, ‘May I join you?’
Roland and Bill jumped to their feet as she collapsed into a rattan chair.
‘You look somewhat frazzled, dear. A big day?’ asked Roland solicitously.
Margaret opened the sandalwood fan she always carried and fanned her flushed face. ‘It’s been quite a day of excitement for a small town,’ she began. Ho placed her gin and tonic beside her and Margaret took a sip before continuing. ‘I met Anne Farquar in Slim River, and she brought along another friend, Shirley Fielding, who is staying with her. Shirley was still quite shaken up. Her husband manages an estate in the north and it was set alight a week ago. The communists, of course.’
‘I’ve met Thomas Fielding,’ said Bill.
Margaret ignored the interruption and continued her story. ‘We had a pleasant time in the little shops and the bazaar, then Anne Farquar insisted on going to those smelly markets. Anyway, after that, we went for a nice lunch at that Tip Top Tea House.’ She took a sip of her drink as the men waited politely for her to continue. ‘My driver and the Malay policeman were right outside, waiting for us, thank goodness.’
‘Why was that?’asked Roland.
‘I’ll tell you,’ continued Margaret. ‘I said goodbye to the other women, then I decided to pop into that small general store next to the tea house for some items, and when I came out, there was a man looking at something at the front of the shop. I had to squeeze past him, you know how cluttered those little places are, and then he turned around, so we came face to face. Do you know who it was?’ She looked at them in horror. ‘It was Ah Kit. When he saw me, he was as shocked as I was. He turned away without a word. But it was too late. I’d seen him. So I shouted to the Malay policeman, “Quick, quick, that man’s a communist!”’
‘And what happened then?’ said Roland curtly.
‘I told the policeman to arrest Ah Kit.’
Roland leapt to his feet. ‘Margaret, what have you done? Where is Ah Kit?’ he demanded.
‘Goodness, Roland, there’s no need to get upset. The man is a communist. You told me so yourself. Anyway they took him to