The Timor Man (40 page)

One of the other ladies in the small group they had joined put her hand on Stephen's arm as she laughed, and Wanti immediately felt a twinge of jealousy. The woman was dressed in a long white evening gown, her short brown hair cut to permit the expensive earrings to display their elegant diamond settings, matched with the small brooch clipped beside the cleavage exposing her softly tanned but adequately endowed breasts.

Wanti could not understand the feelings she was experiencing, accepting that she had only just met her handsome new friend.

“
Stephen
,” she interrupted, “
may I go home now please?
”

He turned, looked at her and smiled. “
Sure
,” was all he said, taking her by the hand and leading Wanti out of the main reception room, stopping briefly to speak with their hosts.

“
You're tired
. ” Although the statement did not require an answer she responded anyway.

“
Thank you Stephen. You have been very kind to me. I wonder why?
” she asked, almost coquettishly, her eyes wide, smiling at her small success in having him move away from the group inside and the attractive foreign woman. She had not expected him to agree to leave immediately and was now not really ready to return home to her dismal surroundings there.

“
Because you are like a fairy princess who's just stepped into my life
,” he answered, smiling kindly, holding her hands firmly.

Wanti laughed. “
Never a princess, Mas
,” unaware of her familiarity in addressing him so, “
never a princess!
”

His car had turned into the brick-paved driveway as they waited on the steps outside and he laughed with her, pleased that she had used the almost intimate form in her response. He drove her to his villa. Stephen knew she would be impressed and was surprised at himself for feeling the necessity for her to be so. At first she had refused to leave the car wishing that he'd taken her directly home.

“
We will only be a few minutes, Wanti. Please come inside. It's okay, nothing will happen to you
. ”

“
If it's only a few minutes then I can wait here
. ”

Stephen shrugged and turned to enter the doorway now open as the
jongus
waited for him. Surprised that the young lady had not followed, he left the door ajar and followed his
tuan
into the lounge room.

“
Make coffee, Kardi
,” he ordered.

The houseboy disappeared and within a few minutes had returned with a silver tray, coffee, two cups and an already poured crystal glass partly filled with Hennessee's XO Cognac and a selection of after dinner mints. He placed them on the long carved teak table and stood with his hands clasped in front of his body.

Stephen looked up and raised his eyebrows. “
What is it, Kardi?
”

“
The young lady, tuan?
” he inquired, turning his head in the general direction of the front door which remained open.

Stephen thought for a moment. “
Take this out to the car,
” he said, indicating the tray.

Never totally understanding the whims of the foreigners and their strange habits, the houseboy obeyed.

Wanti saw the
jongus
appear and moments behind, Stephen.

“
We will have our coffee here, if you find it more comfortable
,” he said, climbing into the rear seat.

Wanti was speechless. At first she felt embarrassed, realizing that she had insulted this kind man who had been so thoughtful to her all evening. Then, as she observed how relaxed he was sitting back comfortably holding a large balloon shaped crystal glass softly swirling its contents, she started to laugh.

Stephen looked sharply and then, appreciating just how ridiculous it must all seem to the young and inexperienced Javanese beauty he too smiled and then joined with her laughing out aloud. The houseboy watched from behind the curtains. He was convinced that the
tuan
had gone completely mad. And then he too then started to smile. The young lady had stepped out of the
tuan's
car and was heading for the door.

Still laughing together, Wanti permitted Stephen to usher her into the house where they sat together in the guest lounge, sipping the retrieved coffee while listening to Neil Diamond sing his way through an Lp.

They talked and laughed, enjoying each other's anecdotes and other trivia as Sukardi politely entered from time to time, checking their coffee and replenishing the snacks he had hastily prepared when his
tuan
had returned. The hours passed quickly and, as she looked up at the antique clock as it chimed the hour, Wanti suddenly realized that it was already morning. She had stayed out all night. Immediately Wanti was filled with anxiety. She couldn't permit Stephen to take her home.

“
I must go home by becak, Stephen. Please understand. I have been out all night and my reputation will be ruined if the others see me returning with a foreigner
,” she had pleaded. He understood and reluctantly agreed.

Promising to meet again on the following Saturday, Wanti took the
becak
arriving home with barely sufficient time to
mandi,
change and catch the bus to the school where she taught.

All day Wanti's spirits were high. She didn't feel at all tired even with the long hours she had then to spend at the school. And when she awoke the following morning, the strange feeling persisted and continued to do so throughout the day. She sat, observing the young children as they studied their books, aware that it was not just the anticipation she felt for their next meeting that sent her pulse racing — it was more than that.

The young Javanese woman now understood the emotion she'd experienced late into her first evening together with Stephen when suddenly, as he'd touched her hand gently, softly, an overwhelming warmth had passed quickly through her body. Wanti sat, uncomfortably, observing the children as they studied their books, conscious of the strange and unusual sensation she had never experienced before. It was more, much more than she had ever imagined it would be. As she day-dreamed, the unfamiliar feelings caused her to unconsciously adjust her position on the hard wooden chair. Confused but happy, anxious but excited, Wanti thought she might be falling in love.

 

Weeks later, stretched out alone on the poolside deck chair Stephen still didn't quite understand exactly how he'd permitted it to happen. He sat up slowly, raised the
cubra libre
to his lips, slowly sipping the Bacardi as he observed the two topless sunbathers across the azure blue swimming pool.

Wanti had not yet returned from her third successive day's shopping. He couldn't believe her capacity to stay away all day browsing through shops, bargaining, missing meals, then returning late in the afternoon flushed with the excitement of the day's purchasing spree. Their hotel suite was already inundated with scores of plastic shopping bags containing shoes, scarves, negligees, jeans and jackets, all boxed and bearing the latest tags. She'd even bought new suitcases, needed to accommodate the range of fashions she'd acquired and an assortment of cosmetics which immediately filled all available bathroom space.

It hadn't been so much a whirlwind romance but more of a whirlwind wedding he thought, reflecting on their impulse decision to marry. Stephen knew that he was expected to settle down sooner or later and cease the debauched life he'd enjoyed as a single man if he expected to be taken seriously within the International Trading Community. Now, he wasn't even sure that he loved Wanti, but decided that it didn't really matter. He was content to have her near as she added a new dimension to his life and, more importantly, she loved him.

General Seda had been pleased when Stephen had asked for his opinion.

“
Do it, Stephen
,” he had urged, “
do it! She is a very beautiful girl and it would do you no harm to have such an attractive, intelligent and loving wife.
” Seda failed to inform Stephen that her being Javanese was probably a greater consideration than her other attributes.

Stephen had not wanted to go through the monotonous ritual of a traditional Javanese wedding. He explained to Wanti and Bambang that, as she was an orphan and as his parents lived so far away, it would be wiser to keep their wedding ceremony small, inviting just a few close friends. Wanti agreed. At that time she would have agreed to anything although later, as the initial euphoria faded, she did have some regrets.

Although he had not insisted, his bride had readily accepted the simple wedding at the registry office in old Kota, downtown China Town. They invited a small number of close personal friends, and Wanti's brother Bambang, to the celebration. Seda had suggested he would not attend.

They had honeymooned in Singapore and Hong Kong. Sitting around the pool at the Hyatt Regency on Scott's Road, Stephen finally came to terms with what he'd done and how impetuous he had been. He was surprised and a little annoyed with himself for the impulsive step he'd taken.

Stephen closed his eyes as the sun suddenly emerged from behind the clouds warming his well-tanned skin. The long Bacardi and Coke rested in his left hand, the ice cooling his palm through the thin glass. He relaxed, watching one of the topless women sit up suddenly and add some more cream to her body. He thought about his new bride. Stephen Coleman knew then that he had to make the best of his commitment. He waved to the white jacketed poolside waiter and ordered another drink.

 

It was in Singapore that Coleman received Nathan Seda's couriered letter advising that their operation was about to enter a new phase, incorporating the supply of several squadrons of helicopters and associated armaments. It was a major opportunity for them. The note had instructed him to meet with the General in Kuala Lumpur the following day.

Coleman left his wife with friends who promised her a shopping excursion even his bank manager would never forget. Upon his return they recounted the day's events, laughing as they explained to Stephen how even they had difficulty keeping pace with his excited bride. As she hurried from shop to shop Wanti just couldn't believe her eyes. Meticulously she selected materials, ordering the tailor to copy a cocktail dress she'd seen in his imported catalogues and a smart trouser suit to match the three-inch heels purchased in the
toko
next door. She was like a little child, tearing open the parcels showing her husband what she had purchased barely finishing an explanation of one before tearing open another.

That evening, alone in the darkness of their hotel room Wanti related the story of her life with Bambang and the horrors she had experienced. Wanti finished her story without being subjected to one of her seizures. For the first time, since she could remember, Wanti felt safe.

Stephen held Wanti close to him comforting her as she sobbed choking back her tears while describing the savage mutilation of the many
kampung
children slain dead, as they were held to their mothers' breasts. Her story carried them through the night leaving them both emotionally drained. Only then had Stephen realized what an incredibly strong little woman he had married.

As she lay asleep, her long black hair spread softly across the pillow, the classic aristocratic features accentuated by high cheek bones, her soft brown skin highlighted against the white sheets, Steve Coleman swore an oath that, as long as they were together, he would never permit Wanti to be exposed again to horror such as she'd suffered as a child.

It was then he also decided never to reveal the true nature of his company's activities nor the principal responsible for his success. That he was dealing in arms did not overly concern him, nor did he see this as some flaw in his character. Selling weapons was an honourable profession, he thought. And if it wasn't, then this didn't really matter either. He believed that his ideals and integrity had already been compromised years before when he'd first met John Anderson, and whatever he might do after his life after ASIS, the Australian Secret Service, could in no way make him a lesser person than he had already become.

Stephen softly stroked her cheek admiring her features. He knew that she would be in danger should he reveal his relationship with the General and decided that this would have to be the one secret he would hold from her.

 

Married life in Jakarta changed Stephen's life style very little. Office activities occupied the mornings, after which he would lunch with business associates, sleep in the afternoons and spend the evenings with Wanti. She was extremely happy and couldn't wait to be pregnant. As the months passed by she became agitated by the possibility that she might not be able to bear children. Stephen seemed not to be concerned and this also gnawed at her heart.