In the Mouth of the Tiger (105 page)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

W
hen I awoke the rain had cleared and the sky was a dome of cobalt blue over the vivid green jungle. Ah Khow was laying the breakfast things on the balcony and I could hear Denis humming cheerfully under the shower. It was hard to believe that I was in a Communist stronghold which was about to be raided, and that Denis was up to his armpits in a web of treachery.

We sat out on the balcony as if it were an ordinary day, the children preoccupied with some secret project, Denis deep in the morning paper, and the amah pottering about with clean linen in the bedrooms behind us. Only I was agitated and on edge, staring down the road, unconsciously listening for the sound of trucks.

I remember catching Denis's eye in a mute appeal, but he didn't seem to realise how concerned I was and merely gave an encouraging grin. ‘You're not a hundred per cent yet, darling, are you?' he said, shaking his head. ‘An early night tonight, perhaps?'

And I'd thought Malcolm was the unrealistic one. We might very well be in gaol, or dead, before the day was done.

We drove the children down to school, and as we swung out onto the Jalan Basar Road I saw the trucks immediately, lined up neatly on the grass verge. A couple of platoons of Gurkhas sprawled in the shade of the roadside willows, some of them staring curiously at us as we passed. An English officer sitting beside the leading truck looked away as soon as he spotted us, guilt written all over his face.

‘Very untidy,' Denis said easily while I sat stiff and tense beside him, unable to look at the little stacks of guns, the belts of ammunition laid out on the grass, and the dark, intense faces of the soldiers.

We kissed the children goodbye as we always did, but I must have held on too long because Tony squirmed away. ‘It's only for a day,' he said contemptuously, and I prayed that he was right.

On the way back I clutched Denis's hand. ‘I'm so frightened,' I said. ‘Why are we playing this charade? Those soldiers are going to come up to Starlight in a few hours with their guns. Shouldn't we be
doing
something?'

Denis patted my hand. ‘No we shouldn't,' he said firmly, ‘because we have absolutely nothing to hide. If Malcolm does blunder in on us he'll make a complete idiot of himself.' He scratched his jaw thoughtfully. ‘I wonder why he's taking his time?'

‘He's waiting for me to get clear,' I said in a small voice. ‘He was going to give me until lunch time.'

‘Then he's a damned fool,' Denis said, and there was genuine anger in his voice.

I fussed about the bedroom for an hour or so, itching to pack or to do something constructive but Denis wouldn't let me. ‘It is an ordinary day,' he said again and again. ‘We must do ordinary things.'

Just before lunch I caught sight of myself in the wardrobe mirror – a harassed, pale-faced woman with defeated eyes. So I stood there and stared back at myself, my hands on my hips. ‘Buck up, Nona,' I said aloud. ‘And don't be such a baby. You've been through far worse than this, my girl.' I'm not sure I had, but saying it seemed to help. I felt the panic receding, leaving me almost calm, almost brave.

I changed into gardening clothes and joined Denis on the terrace, where he was stretched out in a deck chair reading. I even remember the book:
The Tuttles of Tahiti
, a light-hearted comedy set in French Polynesia. He had brought out a portable radio to hear the news and it was burbling quietly in the background.

We had two huge stone flowerpots on the terrace, chock full of lupins, stock and hollyhock, and I crouched down on the flagstones, weeding between the stalks with vigour. It was pleasant, undemanding work, and the activity took my mind off things so that I began to feel almost human.

There was a flourish of trumpets on the radio, heralding a special announcement: ‘Authorities have confirmed that one of Malaya's most wanted terrorists was shot dead this morning during a British attack on a Communist camp deep in the Pahang jungle. The body of Xiao Lao Hu, the female leader of the Communists' feared Tiger Regiment, was positively
identified by police in Kuala Lipis about an hour ago.'

I stared at Denis and he stared at me.

‘Details are scarce at this stage but it is understood that the British attack took place at dawn in the Kuala Rau area about twenty miles south of Kuala Lipis, and was the result of a high-level tip-off to police. The number of Communists killed was not disclosed, nor were details given of any British casualties.'

I pulled off my gardening gloves and threw them on the ground. ‘You betrayed her!' I shouted at Denis. ‘I heard you telling Chin Peng to have her killed!'

Denis sat stock still, his book still open in front of him, staring at me.

‘You murdered Catherine,' I shouted again. I could hear the rising note of hysteria in my voice but I didn't care. ‘I don't understand you, Denis. You're not satisfied to betray your own side, are you? You betray the enemy as well! And now you've killed darling Catherine. Why?'

Even as I asked the question the answer came to me. Because Catherine knew that Chin Peng had betrayed Lau Yew. And the poor girl had trusted
me
with that information.

I
was responsible for her death.

I walked up to Denis. He rose from his chair, tossed his book onto the coffee table beside him, and faced me. He spoke before I could say anything. ‘I didn't tell Chin Peng to have her killed,' he said softly. ‘I asked him to have her looked after. I was worried about her. I'm as shocked as you are.'

A crimson tide washed over me. ‘Liar!' I screamed. ‘Liar! You are a murderer and a traitor, and I'm not going to let you trick me ever again.' Then it all just bubbled out, the pain and the puzzlement that I had been bottling up, like hot lava spilling from a volcano. ‘You killed that man on that island, didn't you? Just to protect a code! And the crew from the
Baralaba
– you killed them too, didn't you? You didn't put them on an American ship at all! And what about Skripkin? You betrayed him to the Communists because he wanted to defect. You might just as well have pulled the trigger yourself. And now it's Catherine's turn. When are you going kill me, Denis? Later this afternoon? Tomorrow? Next year? Is that what this charade is all about?'

I stood there breathing hard, and saw the real Denis for the first time. I had broken through the protective nonchalance to the man beneath. His eyes blazed vivid blue with anger and he gripped my shoulders so hard that I flinched. ‘You can accuse me of a lot, but not of treachery,' he said. ‘I won't
have that, Nona, because it isn't true. I am no traitor.'

I believed him. However nonsensical it seemed, however impossible it seemed, what he said was the truth. The naked truth, wrenched from him because he was in shock.

But behind the anger I saw something else. There was
uncertainty
in his eyes as well, and that was the ultimate betrayal. Because I had followed him blindly, and now I knew that even
he
thought it might all have been for nothing. It might all have been a giant mistake. A miscalculation that had cost too much to contemplate.

I think that in that moment I went a little mad. I turned on my heel and started walking away. Away from Starlight, away from Denis, away from the pain and the ambiguity. Away from grief and fear. I reached the road and turned towards Tannah Rata a mile below me. It would be a long walk, but I rejoiced at the thought. Every step took me further away. I didn't think about what I was leaving behind. I didn't think of the children. I didn't think of Denis. I only knew that I had to escape.

The jungle closed around the thin ribbon of road, making it into a cool green tunnel. I could see orchids that we'd never seen from the car. Great ferns and tangled lianas, and deep in the shadows I heard the sounds of life. The buzzing of insects, the chirp of birds, even the
tok tok
of a tiny plandok deer.

I thought that by now Denis would have come after me. But of course he wouldn't. He would have stood for a moment, pained and vulnerable, then slipped back into the protection of his lazy smile. He'd pick up
The Tuttles of Tahiti
and stretch out again in his canvas chair.
I
had walked away, so he would never, never follow.

I was about a third of the way down the hill when I remembered that there had also been fear in his eyes, and I realised precisely what he had been frightened of – that I
would
walk away. I stopped, irresolute, and stood for a moment in the shade. There was a pitcher plant beside the road, with a butterfly hovering at its rim, tempted by the sweetness. I remembered my dream. In it, Malcolm Bryant had warned me: ‘You're well and truly trapped now, Nona. And it's entirely your own fault. I did warn you.'

There was a soft footstep and I looked up with a start. Ah Khow stood there at respectful attention. He must have followed me down, walking softly in his rubber shoes. Making sure that I came to no harm.

‘Lunch in half an hour, Mem,' he said.

‘Then I think we should go back, don't you?' I said and took his arm.
‘Tuan would never start without me.'

The raid on Starlight began at two o'clock. A small plane suddenly appeared above the treetops, swinging in a tight circle above the two bungalows. Almost simultaneously we heard the roar of trucks coming up the private road. Denis and I were sitting on the terrace sipping our after-lunch cups of coffee, Ah Khow standing behind us in the doorway with a fresh pot in his hand.

‘A bit like the movies, don't you think?' Denis asked. ‘I do think these military types overdo it a bit.'

As the first truck came around the corner, it was spilling Gurkhas. The tough little men hit the ground running, and fanned out around Starlight with their Sten guns trained on us. A jeep squealed to a stop directly in front of the terrace, and Malcolm leapt from it with his pistol levelled at Denis. ‘Get away from him, Norma!' he was shouting. ‘Away! Away! Away!'

I remained seated, my coffee cup halfway to my lips. Inside I was screaming with fear, but on the outside I was as cool as a cucumber. I wanted to say something clever and relaxed, but while the spirit was willing the flesh was weak. The retort jammed tight in my throat so that all I could do was to pretend to smile.

Two more trucks swept straight past us, heading for Moonlight, Gurkhas leaping from the tailgates while the vehicles were still in motion. Behind me, I could hear soldiers crashing through Starlight, and there was the sound of breaking glass.

‘If you think you're going to get a cup of coffee after that display you've got another think coming,' Denis said severely. ‘I take it you have a warrant to justify this nonsense?'

Malcolm stood in front of Denis, his revolver pointed at his head, and just for a second I thought he was going to shoot him out of hand. ‘Lie down flat on the ground or I'll fire!' he shouted. ‘Now! Now! Now!'

‘No, no, no,' Denis said mildly. ‘Now put that silly piece of ironmongery away and explain why you didn't have the decency to give us a call before dropping in.'

The mildness of Denis's manner knocked the stuffing out of Malcolm. He stood there, suddenly irresolute, as a ring of Gurkhas formed around us. ‘Search him,' he snapped finally at a Gurkha sergeant.

Denis rose almost lazily. ‘Don't be so damned melodramatic, Malcolm,' he said. His voice was still mild but there was a thread of steel in it. ‘I haven't
got a gun on me as you can plainly see.' He turned to the Gurkha sergeant. ‘This man is not your officer and he has no right to give you orders. He is a very silly policeman who has made a terrible mistake, and he will eventually have to pay for that mistake. Talk to your own officer before you do anything. You look like a good soldier and I don't want you in trouble.'

Just then there was a short burst of gunfire from the direction of Moonlight and everyone except Denis flinched. My heart sank like a stone. It meant that there was going to be fighting, and everything Denis had done to make the situation seem normal would be undone.

‘I hope they haven't shot the poor damned cat,' Denis said into the silence.

There was no more shooting and a moment or two later the Gurkhas' officer, a young English captain, came striding down from Moonlight. ‘Nobody there,' he called to Malcolm. ‘One of my men fired by mistake.' He looked flushed and sounded angry.

‘They must have got away,' Malcolm said. ‘But there will be a ton of incriminating stuff about. Our intelligence is that Moonlight is the Communist HQ. You'd better get your men to seal both bungalows off and get a search under way.' He gestured at Denis. ‘In the meantime, I'll take this man down to the police station.'

‘You'll do no such thing,' Denis said. ‘Unless you're going to arrest and charge me. What am I supposed to have done, Malcolm?'

Malcolm gave a thin smile. ‘I'm not going to charge you with anything – yet. But we've got ample evidence to take you in under the Emergency Regulations.' He turned towards the young officer. ‘I rather think helping to run the Communists' field HQ rates as a risk to national security, don't you, Captain McManus?'

Denis broke in before the officer could reply. ‘That is arrant nonsense, Malcolm,' he snapped. ‘Moonlight a Communist HQ? Don't make me laugh! The place has been occupied for weeks by chaps from my old business. Perfectly respectable crowd too, I assure you. I can give you their names if you like.'

Malcolm's thin smile slipped just a little. ‘We're about to search both these bungalows. If we find so much as a Communist tiepin I'll have you in handcuffs so fast your eyes will water.'

The search took almost an hour, and they found absolutely nothing. All the while Denis and I sat with our stone-cold cups of coffee with Gurkha guns
in our faces. It was a horrible time, and my skin crawled every time I heard one of the searchers call out. But Denis lounged back in his chair, the smoke from his cigarette rising straight as a pencil line in the still afternoon air. He was a superb actor.