Read Online The Hills of Singapore by Dawn Farnham - Free Book Online

him a drink.
    â€œShe is here,” Zhen said.
    Qian knew exactly who Zhen was talking about. He contemplated his friend lolling, loose-limbed, half-undressed, beautiful, on the cushions. He recalled the day in the coolie house when they had stripped off their clothing and washed in the streaming rain in the air well courtyard. His first sight of Zhen’s body had been his first inkling of his own desires. Now though, he could relax in his friend’s company.
    â€œI see. What do you intend to do about it?”
    Zhen poured more wine.
    â€œNothing.” He shook his head. “Just look at her.”
    Qian fell back on the cushions and began to laugh.
    â€œShe is here and you will do nothing. Just look at her. This is delightful talk, for I know you are a man of small passions and a soul filled with poetry. Perhaps you will write some for me. I believe it is commonplace to begin by being in the misty mountains, contemplating the moon …”
    Zhen smiled.
    â€œWell, nothing for the moment. What can I do? Of course I want to … want her … But you know the situation. Unless she is willing to be my …”
    He looked at Qian, whose smile had widened. This subject, Zhen knew, always amused Qian. The mere idea of a white English woman becoming the concubine of a Chinese man in Singapore always put him in high good humour. But it had once terrified him. Zhen had pursued the lovely Xia Lou Mah Crow with a single-mindedness which made Qian fear for his friend’s future and her mind. He knew the depth of Zhen’s feelings and his resolve. That their love affair had not been detected, that Zhen had married Noan and Miss Mah Crow had gone away, had been a source of the greatest relief.
    Now she was back, a widow. Free, he thought. Free and very rich. As rich as himself perhaps. The thought was fascinating. Much richer than Zhen.
    â€œWell, thunderhead, if you ever want to meet her quietly and talk to her—not just look at her and think of the misty mountains—then let me know. I would like to see her again. She is a lady.” His voice softened, and he realised that really he did like her and would like to see her again.
    Zhen heard it and stopped being fierce. Yes she was a lady. His lady and yet not his.
    He sighed and dropped back on the cushions. Qian poured them both some wine. Zhen changed the subject; this one just went round and round. Qian knew he would come back to it when he was suitably drunk and filled with longing.
    Zhen tossed back the cup of rice wine and took up the chopsticks to pick at the food which was spread out on a low table.
    Qian turned the subject to business.
    â€œThe gambier farmers are moving to Johor. The land survey by this Thomson man has meant that for the first time, there are rents to be paid. The new roads to Kranji and Changi mean the government men can move out and see for themselves. Many of the farmers are getting out. The prices are picking up for the Europeans are becoming interested in gambier also.
    Zhen nodded.
    â€œWell, well” he said. “This will sort itself out. I am part of a syndicate which is presently in an interesting position with the Temenggong. He has recognised that the Chinese are now his staircase to wealth and power, not the piratical bunch of orang laut he has been controlling. He needs a land base. He is shrewd, the cleverest Malay I’ve ever met and he knows where his fortunes lie. He is opening up land in Johor for development.”
    Qian poured rice wine and nodded.
    â€œMy influence in our kongsi is useful, for we need to quickly establish ourselves in Johor before the Teochews get involved. The Dutch are kicking them out of Rhio and they are landing up here in Singapore. There will be trouble.”
    Qian looked at his friend. They both understood how things stood here in Singapore. The Europeans had no way of controlling the profitable agriculture of the island. Their attempts at spice and