The Plantation - Di Morrissey [58]
Then she discovered the food hall in the basement and took photographs for her mother. There were leather lounges, mirrors, fresh flowers, plump sofas and table settings covered with linen and silver. Smartly dressed staff were ready to bring food and drink orders. Customers could choose from a dimly lit cocktail bar, a replica Japanese tea house with beautiful waitresses in kimonos, an Indian restaurant with a tall Sikh doorman in a red uniform with gold braid, a Swiss chalet and a Chinese garden restaurant.
Julie decided to eat at the Noodle House, which appeared to be comparatively inexpensive. Sitting up to a long bar where she could watch the strolling shoppers and people relaxing and socialising, she felt that she was in a sort of club. Later in the afternoon she took a tourist map and explored other parts of the city until she was too tired to walk another step. She took a taxi back to the hotel feeling on overload from the astounding sights of a city going skywards at an amazing rate.
It occurred to Julie that she had no idea what her cousins looked like but as she stood in the lobby with her bag at her feet she spotted Shane and Peter the minute they came through the revolving door. The two brothers were both slim with dark-brown hair. One had a slight curl, the other’s straight hair flopped into his eyes. Both wore white, short-sleeved, open-collared shirts tucked into smart well-cut slacks. Even at a distance Julie could see that their leather shoes and belts were expensive.
Seeing her standing there, they broke into smiles and came to her, hands outstretched. ‘Julie?’
She wished she had dressed up a little more and not just worn her white cotton jeans and loose shirt. ‘That’s me. So who is cousin Shane and who is Peter?’
‘I am Shane.’ The curly haired, slightly older brother shook her hand. ‘And this is Peter. The baby. He’s two years younger.’
‘I’ll ignore that comment,’ said Peter. ‘We are so happy to meet you. We hardly know our Australian side of the family, so this is wonderful.’
‘Is this your bag?’ Shane nodded to one of the porters and waved towards the door. ‘Our car is here. It is a bit of a drive to Utopia, but you’ll find it interesting. And we can catch up on each other’s news, yes?’
Julie thought she detected a faint accent more European than English. The cousins seemed, like their email correspondence, to be formal, polite and correct.
When she stepped outside she was a bit stunned to see a sleek new silver Jaguar waiting at the entrance. An Indian driver was putting her bag in the boot, as the hotel concierge held the back car door open for her. Julie got in and sank into the soft, new-smelling, dove leather. Peter sat beside Julie and Shane got in beside the driver.
‘This is Ramdin. He’s been with the family a long time. His grandfather, Hamid, drove great grandfather Eugene,’ said Shane. Ramdin turned and flashed Julie a wide smile.
On the three-hour drive north, the Elliott brothers told Julie about Utopia, and how they were trying to move it forward into new business practices. They said that they were part of an international group dedicated to raising the standard of plantation operations to make them more sustainable and environmentally safer, at the same time making them more productive and setting sections of natural habitat aside for wildlife protection.
‘We have a larger community of workers than they did in my father and grandfather’s day,’ said Shane. ‘And like us, several generations have grown up on the plantation so the trees, the workers and our family are all intertwined.’
‘It’s probably better if you wait till we show you around before we try to explain how it all works,’ said Peter. ‘There is quite a lot