Scorpion Orchid by Lloyd Fernando

Author:Lloyd Fernando
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789810731922
Publisher: Epigram Books
Published: 2017-05-31T00:00:00+00:00

9

WHEN THE RIOTS began Ellman remained in his flat eating out of tins. The columns of smoke smudging the sky beyond the trees seemed like a shroud round the heart of the city, and he turned away from the balcony, eyes smarting, defeated. To the spacious rooms supplied by the University he had added a thick pile carpet, a large Chinese lantern, a misty scroll landscape, and a hi-fi set. His maid swept and cleaned for him, washed and ironed his clothes, and waited on him at table over meals which approximated, except for a slight tinge of garlic and a hint of suspicious sauces, to English cooking. He enjoyed the Chinese food which was served up now and then, and occasionally, a curry. With numerous bars in the city in which to quench his thirst and forget his loneliness, he drank more than was good for him and was rapidly falling into the mould, he told himself sardonically, of the old time whiskey-drinking colonial. It was not true, of course. Ellman belonged to a younger generation of Englishmen who came to Malaya and Singapore rather more as individuals than as cadets of empire. But tradition and upbringing were not easy to escape wholly. He was at first fascinated by, and later appalled at the contrast between the orderly society he had left in England and the squalor and total absence of coherence in the country he had come to.

“It’s not a single society, really,” Ethel Turner, who had come round to look the newcomer over, said cheerfully. “Thank God the British are here. The Malays are in their kampungs, the Chinese own all the business, and the Indians are in the rubber estates. And the Eurasians—not half-castes, Roger, or mulattoes, unless you want to lose friends and influence people—the Eurasians sit in their cricket club and imitate us, rather poorly, actually. You see, they have nothing in common. If we left tomorrow, there’d be such a lovely bit of mayhem that we’d have to come back to keep the peace. No, I’m afraid we have to grin and bear it—the white man’s burden, I mean,” she added lightly.

“They seem to live on friendly terms with each other,” Ellman said cautiously.

“Only on the surface. Have you heard Chinese talking when no Malays are present? Or loud-mouthed Indians when no Chinese are there? You will. My students talk, on occasion. Makes your blood run cold to hear them. What are you doing this evening? Come round to my place and have a meal. You’re lucky to inherit Ah Hong from poor Maitland who I’m afraid went to pieces and had to be sent back. Ah Hong’s a gem, but even she can’t produce a meal without pots and pans. Shall we say seven?”

After she had gone Ellman cursed himself for accepting the invitation. She might be good for a lay, of course, she wasn’t at all bad-looking, but he wanted his options open. Also he did not want to be drawn too early into an ambit which might mark him off as belonging to one particular camp or another.

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