The Plantation - Di Morrissey [32]
‘No, I’d just like to fall into bed if that’s possible. Start afresh in the morning.’ Margaret noticed the heavy, dark wooden furniture in the entrance, but she was simply too tired to be curious about her surroundings, although the house had appeared large and impressive.
‘Kim has made up the guestroom for you both here. I thought it easier,’ said Eugene.
‘Thank you, Father. Very thoughtful. Good evening, Kim. Margaret, this is Kim, our amah, who’ll show you to our room.’
A Chinese woman, smiling broadly, hands clasped in front of her crisp white tunic came forward. ‘Hello, mem. Kim happy for Mr Roland. Very good, very good.’
‘Kim, when you’ve shown the mem to the guestroom bring her some tea,’ said Roland. ‘I’ll have your suitcase sent in, Margaret. I’ll be there shortly after I have a chat with Father.’
‘I’ll be asleep, I’m sure. Goodnight, Mr Elliott. Thank you.’
‘See you in the morning, my dear.’
Margaret followed the amah down a hallway to a large room furnished with two single beds, a large closet and a dressing table. The room had big windows but the shutters were closed. The furniture in the room was made from rattan with faded print cushions. A large fan spun lazily overhead. Kim began to pull down the mosquito nets which were suspended from the ceiling, and tuck them around the beds.
A large bowl and china jug filled with water sat on a dresser. Margaret poured some water from the jug into the bowl, splashed her face and fell into bed.
In the morning when she awoke, Roland was already up. She had no sooner opened the shutters to the bright morning when Kim tapped at the door.
‘Mem wish tea? Warm bath?’
‘A bath would be lovely. Where’s the bathroom?’
‘Kim do.’
Margaret followed Kim down the hallway to a large, white bathroom where a bath stood in the middle of the room. It was filled with tepid water. Kim spread a towel on a chair and indicated the soap and washer and left Margaret staring around the spartan room. The starkness, indeed plainness, of the interior of the house surprised Margaret. She had the impression it would be far grander, which made her wonder about the bungalow that had been built a couple of years before for Roland and in which they would both now live.
Dressed and refreshed Margaret found Roland and his father sitting at a glass-topped cane dining table in a room that overlooked the garden. Both men rose.
‘Sorry, we’ve started breakfast without you. How did you sleep?’ asked Roland, kissing her.
‘Didn’t hear a thing.’ Margaret gazed around the simple room that had ceiling fans, a wooden floor and two well-worn comfortable lounges as well as the dining chairs and table. A dart board and games table were at the far end of the room. Palms and tropical plants in pots stood along its length, protected from the sun by bamboo blinds.
An elderly Chinese man, dressed in a navy cotton jacket with short sleeves and matching pants, placed a bowl of porridge and a plate of toast before her. ‘Tea, mem? Or mem take coffee?’
‘This is Ho, Father’s houseboy,’ said Roland.
‘Tea, thank you, Ho,’ said Margaret, somewhat startled that such an elderly man should be referred to as a houseboy.
‘Ho runs this household with an iron fist. Been with Father for years,’ said Roland. ‘Darling, I’m just about to go to a section of the estate with Father, then I’ll be back and we can go over to our house and you can start settling in.’
‘Won’t keep him long, Margaret. He’s got a little catching up to do. After your breakfast take a stroll around Charlotte’s garden. She’s very proud of it and I’ve been trying to maintain it while she’s been away,’ said Eugene, rising. Ho immediately stepped forward to hold the chair for him and push it back under the table as Eugene walked away.
‘How is Mrs Elliott?’ asked Margaret unsure how to refer to her mother-in-law since they’d never met. ‘And her mother?’
‘It’s difficult, of course. Charlotte is being brave,’ said Eugene.
‘Have some fruit from mother’s garden. The papaya is excellent,’ said Roland as he, too, stood, kissed her