The Grazier's Wife Page 9

And it was delicious.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘That’s –’

  The dark heat in Tom’s eyes sent the rest of her remark scattering to the four winds. All she could think about was how attractive he was, and the message in his eyes suggested that he felt the same way about her. She sensed that if they hadn’t been in a bustling street in Chinatown, he would have taken her into his arms and kissed her there and then.

  Instead, their gazes locked and time seemed to stand still while a fresh tide of heat rose into Stella’s cheeks. Tom’s eyes were shimmering as he and Stella smiled at each other.

  It was Stella who looked away first. She took her chopsticks from his hand, speared them inelegantly into the other dumpling in her bowl and proceeded to eat it.

  Tom chuckled. ‘That’s very bad manners, you know.’ But he didn’t look as if he minded in the least, and after they’d thanked the bowing and grinning Chinaman, Tom casually dropped an arm around Stella’s shoulders. ‘Would you like to see the Indian quarter? It’s not far from here.’

  Of course she said yes.

  Again within a few streets, the atmosphere changed, this time to a gentler, almost indolent pace. Handsome Indian men in shirt tails or women in vivid saris strolled hand in hand with their beautifully dressed children. Others lolled in doorways, lips stained red from chewing betel nut.

  And now the smells were of chillies and curry and tropical fruit – mangoes, pawpaws, star apples and lychees. Tom bought Stella a bag of lychees to take back to the nurses’ quarters.

  ‘This is almost like having a whirlwind tour of Asia,’ she said as they walked on past brilliantly coloured market stalls. ‘What about the Malays? Where do they live?’

  ‘They tend to be gathered on the outskirts. On the edge of the rubber or coconut plantations, or in fishing villages.’

  ‘There’s an amazing mix of cultures here, but you Brits are certainly the power base. And you have most of the wealth.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Tom agreed, and added more soberly, ‘for better or for worse.’

  They were making their way back along Orchard Road when they passed a news-stand broadcasting the headlines in the Malaya Tribune:

  27 JAPANESE TRANSPORTS SIGHTED OFF CAMBODIA POINT

  Tom stopped, frowning at the sign.

  ‘Where’s Cambodia Point?’ Stella asked.

  ‘At the southern tip of Indo-China.’

  ‘So the Japs are getting closer?’

  ‘Yes, quite close.’

  ‘Do you think they’re headed for Malaya?’

  Tom gave a slight nod. ‘This certainly puts them within striking distance.’

  He was clearly concerned and went into the shop to buy a newspaper. Stella watched his frown deepen as he emerged, his focus entirely on the front page.

  ‘It says the ships are steaming west,’ he told her.

  ‘Towards Malaya?’

  ‘Yes, either Malaya or Southern Siam. There’s also an official announcement telling people not to travel. They’re urging anyone on holiday to come home.’ Tom’s face was grave, his mouth tight, turning down at the ends. ‘Maybe now they’ll listen to us.’

  ‘Us?’

  ‘The engineers. The military minds have been blocking our suggestions.’ He let out a heavy sigh as he folded the newspaper. ‘I was posted back here to work with Brigadier Simson, the chief engineer, primarily because I know the region and its people so well. We had instructions from the War Office to add to the fixed defences in this area.’

  He gave a slow, almost weary shake of his head. ‘The brigadier and I travelled all over Malaya. We saw so much that needed to be done, but every defence project we’ve suggested has been turned down by the military leaders here in Singapore.’

  ‘That’s crazy. Why?’

  His shoulders lifted in an unhappy shrug. ‘General Percival has deemed it unnecessary. Claims it wouldn’t be good for morale.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake!’ For the first time since she’d arrived in Singapore, Stella was gripped by a sense of foreboding. Had everyone, including the British general, been fooling themselves about the region’s safety?

  ‘Look, I’m sorry.’ Tom tapped the folded newspaper before tucking into his belt. ‘This latest news isn’t good. I’m afraid I’ll have to cut our outing short. I should get back to the barracks.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Stella was fighting a mix of disappointment and concern, but she managed to smile as she held out her hand. ‘Thank you for a lovely morning.’

  Tom smiled. ‘We don’t have to say goodbye just yet. I’ll walk you back to your quarters.’

  He took her hand, linking his fingers through hers. They walked on and Stella wondered if this would be the end of their acquaintance. If the war reached Malaya, Tom was likely to be posted to the mainland. The hospitals would get busier. Everything would be frantic. There was a chance she might never see him again.

  His hand tightened around hers. ‘You’re worrying, aren’t you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Liar.’ His eyes flashed and he gave her hand a squeeze. ‘Don’t worry. I’m confident you’ll be safe here.’

  ‘I was thinking about you, actually. You might have to go away.’

  They had reached the shade of a poinciana tree. Its canopy was like an enormous green umbrella dotted with red flowers and it hung out over a high white wall to cover the footpath. The ground beneath was soft with a layer of tiny fallen leaves.

  Tom stopped and drew Stella deeper into the shade, lifted his hands to her shoulders and held her in front of him.

  His grey eyes were serious and yet they shone with a light that set her heart hammering. ‘And I’m thinking about you, Stella. We’ve known each other less than twenty-four hours, but already you’ve become incredibly important to me.’

  There was a ragged edge to Tom’s smile. ‘Whatever happens, I absolutely have to see you again. Whether it’s tomorrow, next week, or at the end of this bloody war, I’ll find you. I need to see you again.’

  Stella nodded fiercely, biting back tears. ‘Yes. I want that too.’

  Ever so softly, Tom traced the curve of her cheek with the backs of his fingers. ‘I think you’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.’

  Stupidly, she wanted to howl, but then Tom drew her closer into the shadows, gathered her close, and kissed her.

  So thrilling, that first touch of his lips. The sweetest sip, a gentle invitation.

  It set Stella trembling.

  Her lips parted, needing more. Her hat slipped sideways and tumbled to the ground and the bag of lychees followed, landing in the bed of leaves with a soft plop. She lifted her arms, anchoring her hands behind Tom’s neck as her body swayed against his. And now he wrapped his arms even more tightly around her as he kissed her again.

  Stella had been kissed by men before, but she’d never been overcome by the rush of emotion that filled her now. The streets of Singapore, the heat and the smells of the tropics faded. Her entire focus was swept up in Tom’s kiss. It was like catching a wave, the two of them carried together, riding its crest, rushing towards an unknown destiny.

  They were both rather quiet when, at last, they walked on. Their kiss had been a sobering thing. An exciting, untimely revelation.

  At the gate to the nurses’ quarters they said goodbye.

  ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as I can,’ Tom said. ‘In the meantime, please take care.’

  ‘All right. Thanks. And – good luck with everything.’

  He flipped her one of his cheering grins. ‘You too.’

  When Stella reported for duty on the ward that night, she was glad to have the distraction of work. After saying goodbye to Tom, the rest of the day had dragged. Her friends were either working or asleep, or at a swimming party, and she’d wandered about in a daze, doing a little hand-washing, trying to write a letter to her family.

  But she’d been too distracted to concentrate properly and she’d made so many mistakes that she’d had to res
tart the letter three times. In the end she’d given up and had tried to sleep, with little luck. Tom was the problem, of course.

  Now, on the ward, however, Stella drew on the discipline she’d acquired during her training. Here there were beds to be made, patients to bath, temperatures to be taken and charts to be filled. Medication had to be handed out. It was time to stop mooning.

  At just after four o’clock in the morning, the hospital was quiet as Stella tiptoed through the darkened wards. She checked that the patients were sleeping comfortably, rearranged a pillow, offered a glass of water to sip, made sure the fans were still doing their job of stirring the hot, torpid air.

  In the vain hope of finding a breeze, she moved to a window. From here she could see the lights of the city spread out like a map. A step sounded behind her and she turned to see Peg, who was also on night duty.

  ‘Hot, isn’t it?’ Peg said softly.

  ‘Yes, I was hoping for a breeze.’

  Peg pushed the window wider, and they caught the scent of wild ginger and the sound of frogs peeping in a pocket of the jungle that fringed the city. ‘No chance of a breeze.’ Peg turned to Stella. ‘So how was your outing with Tom?’

  ‘Lovely. We went to Chinatown. Tom speaks Chinese and he tried to teach me how to use chopsticks.’

  ‘A handy skill.’

  ‘I was hopeless.’

  Stella watched the silhouette of a freighter moving in the harbour and remembered the Japanese transports steaming towards Malaya. ‘Did you see today’s headlines?’ she asked Peg. ‘Twenty-seven Jap ships are heading for Malaya.’

  ‘Really? Gosh. What did your Tom think about that?’

  ‘I think he’s pretty worried, actually. He suggested that the military bigwigs here are a bit too complacent.’

  ‘Well, they certainly haven’t ordered a blackout.’

  ‘No. Not even a brownout.’

  As she said this, Stella heard the droning of plane engines. The night sky was dark and cloudy, so she couldn’t make out the shape of the planes, but suddenly there was a flash of fire and the loud crump of an explosion.

  She almost cried out in fear.

  ‘What was that?’ asked Peg, but almost immediately there was another blast.

  Peg pulled back from the window. ‘It can’t be a raid, surely?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Stella said helplessly. There’d been no sirens, but even as she said this, she heard the drone of yet another plane and another horrifying crump. The floor beneath them seemed to shake and there was a sound of breaking glass.

  ‘Sister!’ a terrified voice called from a bed behind them. ‘What is it? What’s happening?’

  For the rest of her shift, Stella was busy calming worried patients and attending to their needs. Throughout this time, she wasn’t really sure what had happened. It was only at the shift changeover that the news arrived. Seventeen Japanese planes had dropped bombs on Singapore.

  By the end of the day, the news was worse. The Japanese had landed at Kota Bharu in Malaya and, astonishingly, they’d also bombed an American naval base in Hawaii called Pearl Harbor.

  This terrible war now involved America and was escalating and spreading at a scary pace. Stella was a little ashamed of her first thought, that she would probably never see Tom again.

  9

  Jackie looked up from her reading, aware of the sudden silence. Hugh had turned off the television and, for a moment, there was no sound at all. Not a whisper within the house or throughout the dark bush that stretched all around them. Then she heard Hugh’s footsteps as he went through to the kitchen. The swish of the tap as he rinsed the mug. The slight clink as he set it on the drainer.

  Any moment now, he would arrive at the office doorway.

  Jackie dropped her gaze quickly to Stella’s pages. After reading just a few crowded paragraphs, she’d become completely absorbed in her mother-in-law’s story. So far, she had no idea how wartime Singapore was connected to Magnus’s instructions to his lawyer. The full story was probably huge.

  One thing was certain. It was too late at night to start sharing this with Hugh now. They’d never get to sleep. As Hugh’s step sounded in the hall, she shoved the letter and the two envelopes into a drawer in the desk.

  She was snapping the drawer shut as he appeared at the doorway.

  ‘Still working?’ Hugh smiled at her. ‘What is it? CWA?’

  Unfortunately for Jackie, she was a terrible liar. ‘No. I’m just – um – fiddling. You know, Facebook.’

  ‘Ah.’ Tall, lean, and tanned after a lifetime of hard work in the outdoors, Hugh relaxed his shoulder against the door jamb. ‘So what’s the latest gossip?’

  ‘Oh –’ Jackie grabbed at straws. ‘The Eriksons are on holiday in the US, visiting their son in Los Angeles. And the Greens have a new grandchild. A little girl called Cora.’

  Hugh’s smile hinted at puzzlement. ‘I’m sure you told me that two days ago.’

  ‘Did I? Sorry.’ Jackie’s mind raced. It was just as well she’d never taken up spying as a career. She wouldn’t have lasted two minutes. But she really couldn’t tell Hugh about the envelopes. Not now. That was, most definitely, a task for daylight.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Hugh asked. ‘You look a bit worried.’

  A little desperately, she pounced on a different truth. ‘Actually, Hugh, you’ve caught me out. I’m planning a little surprise. A surprise party for you.’

  It wouldn’t really matter about spoiling the surprise. Or, at least, she hoped it wouldn’t.

  Hugh’s eyebrows lifted high. ‘A party for me?’

  ‘Yes, darling, for your sixty-fifth. It’s a significant age, you know.’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll officially be a senior.’ He pretended to wince and clutched at his back.

  Jackie flashed him a bright, reassuring smile. ‘The best-looking senior around these parts.’

  She knew he would have his doubts about the party idea, and she rose from her chair and went to him, slipped her arms around him. ‘It’ll be a lovely party with our family and friends, and you deserve a little fuss, Hugh. It doesn’t need to be a big do.’ She kissed his jaw, enjoying the rasp of his day-old beard. ‘This is something I want to do for you.’

  Her husband’s dark eyes mirrored the fond warmth she’d always felt for him. They’d been incredibly lucky. Throughout the ups and downs of the decades they’d shared, they’d always been best mates, drawing strength from each other’s company.

  Hugh’s quiet sense of humour and common sense were like a steadying and reassuring anchor. In return, she knew he savoured the simple fact that Jackie was as in love with him now as she’d been when they met.

  ‘You’ll let me do this, won’t you, Hugh?’ she said. ‘You know it’ll be fun.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve no doubt it’ll be fun. I was thinking of you, love. Are you sure you want to load yourself with all the extra work?’

  ‘It won’t be too much. I’m not going to be silly. Not over the top, like I was with that sixteenth birthday party for Flora. I’ll admit I went too far with that one, but I learned my lesson. Seth’s twenty-first was much more low-key.’

  ‘Yes, because Seth put his foot down.’

  Jackie shrugged, then offered her husband a coy smile. ‘You can put your foot down, too.’

  He laughed indulgently, kissed the tip of her nose. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’

  ‘Good. I’m glad you don’t mind, because the Woods and the Kinsellas have already said they’re coming. And so has your sister.’

  ‘Deb? That’s good. I don’t see enough of her.’

  And whose fault is that? Jackie wanted to ask. But she kept her mouth shut. She didn’t want any tensions to spoil this party, even though she felt less than warm towards Hugh’s sister. Deborah had made it clear that she thought Jackie had it easy, with nothing to do all day except ‘play’ with her house and garden and her wardrobe.

  Deborah was so very busy, of course, with her painting, which
was incredibly important and practically consumed her. But her house was chaotic and her ideas about parenting seemed very lax to Jackie.

  ‘I think I’ll hit the hay,’ Hugh said now. ‘We’ve got that appointment with Santino in the morning.’

  Santino Cavallo was their accountant in Mareeba, and although Jackie had mastered basic bookkeeping and looked after most of the Ruthven Downs paperwork, they were both expected at the accountant’s office for an annual review and to sort out their tax. It was a side of their business that always seemed to drain Hugh. An early night was probably a good idea.

  He was about to leave, when he turned back. ‘By the way. I noticed the top of the dining room sideboard’s missing. What happened?’

  With his mother’s letter fresh in her thoughts, Jackie felt a zap of guilt but, somehow, she managed to reply quite smoothly. ‘I took the mirror into Burralea to have it re-silvered. There’s a new furniture restorer there. A girl called Alice Miller.’

  ‘A girl restoring furniture?’

  ‘Yes, Hugh.’ When he looked surprised she couldn’t help having a dig. ‘Don’t be so old-fashioned. You know very well women can do anything these days. Anyway, Brad Woods recommended her.’

  Accepting this with a good-natured shrug, her husband headed off down the hall, and Jackie breathed a sigh of relief. She knew she couldn’t hold off indefinitely in telling Hugh about the envelope, but she would worry about that tomorrow. Or perhaps the day after, as tomorrow would be busy.

  Returning to her desk, she closed down the laptop, took her mug to the kitchen and turned out the lights.

  Hugh was reading when she came to bed, bathed and moisturised, and wearing her favourite old blue gingham pyjamas. The curtains were still open, but she left them. The moonlight wasn’t bright enough to keep them awake and they were usually up soon after dawn.

  Hugh looked up from his book and smiled. ‘You planning to read?’

  Jackie shook her head. She’d finished a book last night and she hadn’t quite decided what she was in the mood for next. ‘I don’t think I’ll bother.’

  ‘I’ve had enough.’ He closed his novel and, once Jackie was settled, he turned out the bedside lamp.