Read Online The Red Thread by Dawn Farnham - Free Book Online Page B

was not conventionally handsome, but he was a manly figure, tallish and broad in the shoulders. His nose was somewhat long and his lips thin, but that did not matter much. Everything was in his eyes, which were a hazel–green, surrounded by deep wrinkles. They seemed in perpetual good humour, even when he was not. He delighted in the ridiculous and had a love of wit and repartee. He was a great favourite with almost all the Europeans, young and old, and the English-speaking Chinese. His thorough knowledge of Bengali, Tamil, Hindustani and Malay gave him an easy relationship with those communities as well. He had built virtually every road, quay and canal in the town. He had surveyed the island and drawn up its first accurate map. He had filled in the swamps and opened up the jungle. He had almost finished construction of the only two solid bridges in the town: one over the Singapore River and the other on the Rochor. He had built the houses of almost every important European, Peranakan, Malay and Chinese family, the rows of shophouses, the princely mansions and the godowns of the rich merchants. Over fifteen years, his tireless industry had made Singapore the most elegant town in the British East.
    Only once had Coleman talked to Robert of his relationship with Takouhi. She had been ill with fever, and while Dr Montgomerie and Mrs White had attended her, he had sat with George in the drawing room of Tir Uaidhne.
    â€˜She is a woman full of grace and passion, Robert. I have no idea what I should do without her.’ He had sat slumped on a chair, his head in his hands.
    â€˜I’ve offered marriage, you know, but she will not. Just says, today we are together. It is wonderful. Gets these dark moods, you know. It’s the marriage to that old Dutch pig when she was just a girl. By the saints, a bad man can ruin a good woman, crush the trust and love out of her. He was a brute. She wasn’t to blame.’
    Coleman stopped abruptly and looked quickly at Robert. By the time Dr Montgomerie descended the marble staircase with good news, he had pulled himself together. Robert had not known what to make of this or what to say, and the subject had never come up again.
    Now Robert thanked his friend and left. He was grateful. On his walk back to the bungalow he went over Coleman’s words about marriage in his head.
    â€˜Really, George is not thinking straight on that score,’ he said to himself.
    â€˜Why, there’s no comparison between George’s situation and mine. Shilah’s a simple servant girl, and Takouhi Manouk is the educated and cultivated sister of the wealthiest man in the East Indies. George is rich and powerful, a man who does as he pleases. I’m a policeman, serving the government. My conduct is constantly under scrutiny. And what about Charlotte? What would her prospects be with a native sister-in-law. No, it’s impossible.’
    At heart, Robert was a simple soul and with this issue settled in his mind, he felt better than he had for days. He was looking forward to taking Charlotte on a visit to the town. There was no reason to trouble her with this matter, which, after all, was his personal business.
    As he arrived back at the bungalow, fat drops of rain began to fall.

5
    The men in the coolie house had passed an uncomfortable night. The perpetual comings and goings, the sounds of sickness, coughing and moaning were all interminable. The fetid smell of the toilet buckets hung chokingly in the air. Qian couldn’t wait for the night to end. In his exhaustion he had slept but he woke constantly, dripping with sweat in the humid atmosphere. He would rather have slept outside, but the doors were barred. Thank all the gods, Zhen had spoken to the pock-faced guard, and they had some kind of agreement that they could go to the temple tomorrow.
    Hanging his head over the edge of the cot, he whispered, ‘Thunder boy, are you awake?’ He had given Zhen this nickname when