The Plantation - Di Morrissey [59]
‘I know very little about Uncle Philip, your father,’ said Julie. ‘I suppose that’s because he was brought up here while my mother lived in Australia.’
‘Our father spoke a little about his sister in Australia,’ said Peter. ‘We were told there had been a falling out between our grandparents. I suppose, being a boy, our father was expected to stay here and learn the family business.’
‘I believe it was the war,’ said Shane. ‘It disrupted many lives. Very sad.’
‘It would be interesting to know the whole story,’ said Julie. ‘Do you know anything about our Great Aunt Bette?’
‘As we said in the letter, we know only a little. We were surprised when Dr Cooper contacted us. We didn’t know about her exploits in Borneo until he told us. But if you want to know more about your grandfather, you could read his war memoirs,’ said Peter.
‘That sounds interesting,’ said Julie.
‘I suppose it is, if you’re interested in his war exploits,’ said Shane.
‘And your parents? My mother said there was an accident?’
‘Tragically, yes. They were both killed out here in a car accident about fifteen years ago,’ said Peter.
‘So you both grew up here? Did you go away to school like our grandfather Roland and your father?’ asked Julie.
‘We were educated in England and in France at the Sorbonne. I did a special horticulture course in Holland,’ said Peter. ‘Shane spent more time in France – it’s where he met his wife, Martine,’ he added with a smile.
‘And she is living at Utopia?’ asked Julie.
‘Yes. But at the moment she’s in England visiting our children and then she’s in France to see her family, but she’ll be home fairly soon,’ said Shane.
‘And you, are you married, Peter?’ asked Julie.
‘No. But I have a girlfriend in Holland,’ he answered. ‘I would like her to come here but she finds it a bit … far away from Europe. And she has a very good job in marketing and promotions.’
‘Really! That’s my field,’ said Julie.
‘Ah ha. Then you know how driven she is and how she works in something of a pressure cooker,’ said Peter.
They sped down a broad motorway. Julie was staggered at the endless stretches of neat and regimented acres of palm oil plantations marching from the edge of the freeway across the countryside and into distant hills.
They stopped in a large township which, for the first time, gave Julie a sense of the exotic with its bustling small businesses, restaurants, car repair places, stalls and markets. Ramdin parked the car at the back of a small supermarket and stayed with it, leaning against the driver’s door, smoking a cigarette. Shane and Peter took Julie into a small restaurant. Out the back were clean toilets, including a western toilet, which she was pleased to see. The squat-style hole on a small, raised, tiled platform looked incredibly uncomfortable to her. Julie then joined the brothers and they all sat at an outdoor table where Shane suggested that Julie try the murtabak.
‘It’s like a stuffed hamburger, very delicious. Pour some curry sauce over the top,’ said Shane.
‘We were thinking that on the way to Utopia, we’d stop and show you one of the places first built by our great grandfather Eugene,’ said Peter.
‘Wonderful. What is it?’ asked Julie.
‘It’s a small place on one of the original estates,’ said Shane. ‘It’s not used any more, though we sometimes have informal board meetings up there.’
‘It was used during the Emergency by some of the British as a clandestine meeting place,’ said Peter.
‘Really. I’m afraid I’m a bit vague about Malaysian history,’ admitted Julie.
‘We’ll let things unfold rather than give you a potted history,’ said Shane. ‘Shall we go? Ramdin has cold bottled water in the car if you need it.’
The car eventually turned off the highway onto a trunk road that wound upwards through thick forest until it turned onto a small local road where palm oil plantations covered the hills as far as the