The Plantation - Di Morrissey [24]
Winifred folded her gloved hands over the clasp on her handbag, looking rather pleased with herself. ‘I know the story. One of the ladies I’ve been talking to in the hotel lobby told me.’
‘So what is it?’ asked Margaret politely.
‘There are several different stories, but the most popular version is actually about dogs. Those black and white dalmatian dogs were popular pets back in the old days, and as pets weren’t allowed into the club, everyone let their dogs roam around that green field in front of the building …’
‘It’s called the padang,’ Margaret interrupted, glad that she’d absorbed one local fact.
‘And a well-known lady had her two dalmatians wait for her at the bottom of the club steps every day when she came into the Selangor Club. So the club became known as “The Spotted Dog”,’ finished Winifred.
‘Better dogs than tigers, I suppose,’ said Margaret. ‘Actually Roland told me this club is quite exclusive.’
‘Now when you write and tell me you had lunch at The Dog, I’ll know just where you mean,’ said Winifred.
‘Well, I’m still glad we’re having our reception at the Peninsula Hotel. I can’t see invitations for a reception at “The Dog” sounding very smart,’ said Margaret, causing her mother to raise an eyebrow at her daughter’s new-found grand airs.
3
ON THE GREEN PADANG, manicured to perfection, a cricket game was in progress. The faint thwack of leather on willow echoed in the long bar of the Selangor Club where Roland, dressed in his formal wedding suit, was enjoying a quick drink with his best man, Gilbert Mason before walking to St Mary’s Church.
In their hotel, Winifred was checking Margaret’s gown as the two Chinese ‘wedding ladies’, recommended by the district officer’s wife, fussed around her.
‘You look beautiful, Margaret. I’m so glad we chose this Du Barry pattern. It’s elegant, not too formal. And you can take the train off and make a few changes and wear it as an evening gown.’
‘You look lovely too, Mother. I love your hat. I must get more hats, one needs them in this climate.’
‘This dress has been beautifully made, and in such a short time, too,’ said Winifred, fingering Margaret’s cream silk-satin gown in the latest fashion. ‘Now, let’s put your veil on.’
The two wedding ladies attached the floor-length silk tulle veil to Margaret’s waved hair, which was pinned up and topped with a small pearl tiara. Then they carefully turned down the short veil to cover Margaret’s face.
Winifred held her daughter’s bridal bouquet, made up of magnificent tropical lilies, ginger flowers and orchids, while Margaret held her skirt above her satin shoes as she made her way to the waiting car with Thelma, the district officer’s daughter who was her bridesmaid and carried the long train of her dress.
Dr Hamilton, who had agreed to give Margaret away, was waiting by the car, resplendent in a white jacket with a small red rose boutonniere. He bowed and held out his arm. ‘You look stunning, dear girl. Extremely elegant. What a striking pair you and Roland will make. Are you nervous?’
‘Not at all,’ said Margaret firmly. ‘This is very kind of you, Dr Hamilton.’
‘I feel for your father. Difficult to miss your first daughter’s wedding.’
‘There will be plenty of photographs and he still has the opportunity to give away my sister when the time comes. Is everything ready at the church?’ asked Margaret.
But Winifred’s eyes misted as she thought of what her husband was missing and how proud he would be of his elder child if he could see her now.
Dr Hamilton took Winifred’s arm. ‘Please, don’t concern yourself. Roland is a superb organiser, Mrs Oldham. You look spiffing too. You and Thelma can ride together in this car and Margaret and I will be behind you.’
Roland and his friend Gil were already waiting in St Mary’s, as the cars drew up in front. Roland, slicky groomed, his pencil-thin moustache neatly trimmed, hair freshly cut, nails buffed and wearing a wide, approving smile on his face, watched Margaret make her way down the