The Plantation - Di Morrissey [22]
‘Yes, but how often will you get away from the plantation?’ asked Winifred. ‘It sounds like his work keeps him very busy.’
Margaret ignored this remark and began discussing the wedding.
‘I do hope Roland has thought to engage a photographer,’ she said.
‘Indeed I have,’ said Roland, as he joined them, removing his hat and sitting down. ‘I’ve taken advice from some of the ladies who know about these sorts of things.’
‘Well, Mother, now we’re here, I think we can look after any other details,’ said Margaret briskly.
‘I’m sure you’re most capable, my dear,’ said Roland with a smile. ‘But things are done a bit differently out here in the East, so I hope you’ll listen to the good advice from the other mems. Now, after you’ve settled in your rooms and rested, we shall meet for drinks and over dinner I’ll explain all the other plans to you.’
‘And can we see the church and reception place? We also have a few last minute purchases,’ began Margaret.
Roland held up his hand. ‘All in good time. We can start tomorrow, eh?’
‘If you don’t mind too much, I think I’d like to stay in my hotel room tonight. I’m feeling quite tired. I’ll have something sent up for dinner. Besides, I’m sure you two would like to be alone,’ said Winifred. ‘You must have a lot to catch up on.’
‘Thank you, Mother,’ said Margaret demurely.
Roland glanced at his watch. ‘I have some brief business to attend to while I’m in KL, but I shall tap on your door at five pm.’ He leaned over, kissed Margaret’s cheek and headed to the hotel foyer, nodding to an acquaintance as he passed.
That evening, Hamid drove Roland and Margaret to a small European restaurant on a street filled with eateries. At one end of the street were stalls where hawkers cooked over open fires in sizzling woks. There were local family-style restaurants, a tea house and at the other end of the street where the food places stopped, were some large Chinese homes squatting behind stone and wire fences.
‘This is a decent neighbourhood. The proprietors of the place where we are going to eat are Dutch, so I think you’ll like the food. You might not take to the local spices straight away,’ he said.
‘I thought we’d go to your club,’ said Margaret, thinking the restaurant rather plain and old fashioned.
‘I’d rather we take your mother there for lunch tomorrow. Then I’ll take you to the Peninsula Hotel. The manager there will meet you and you can inspect the menu for the wedding reception, that sort of thing. Are you still tired from your journey?’
‘Yes, it has been quite a trip. Mother is very glad to be staying in one place for awhile and pleased to be having a tray sent to her room tonight.’
Margaret was pleasantly surprised by the dinner. She enjoyed the food and the attentive service from the couple who owned the restaurant and the fuss they made over meeting Roland’s fiancée. Being with Roland felt strange in a way but she began to revel in her role and looked forward to her new status as his wife. Studying him across the table as he chatted, she felt as though she was looking at him for the first time, and she tried to imagine what it would be like to spend the rest of her life with this handsome and sophisticated man.
On the way home she leaned her head against his shoulder in the Oldsmobile, as Hamid nosed through the streets still busy with activity.
‘So many people, whole families, all out eating on the street, in eating houses. Do they do that all the time?’ she asked.
‘Many of them do. It’s easier and cheaper, generally,’ he answered. ‘And eating is a very social occupation in the East … By Jove, what’s happening up ahead?’ He spoke rapidly to Hamid, who pulled over.
There was a fire glowing and clusters of people, some of them shouting. Two large Sikh police officers were waving back the crowd.
‘Oh my goodness, has there been an accident?’ asked Margaret.
‘Wait here in the car. I will investigate.’ Roland got out of the car.
‘Do be careful, Roland.’
The crowd had