Faridah watched them from the window and smiled indulgently.

Two days later, Hussein went with Shalimar to Faridah. He held Shalimar's hand in his. "Mother, Shalimar and I would like to go to Kuala Lumpur. I would like her to see some of my favourite haunts and perhaps do some shopping." Turning to Shalimar, he asked gently, "You would like that, wouldn't you?" She nodded demurely in response.

"Yes! Go," beamed Faridah. "But you have to be chaperoned. And Ahmad is not here to go with the two of you. He has left for Kuala Lumpur and has not returned."

"Can the driver take us to Kuala Lumpur and be our chaperone?" asked Hussein. Seeing her reluctance, he added, "You might wish to appoint Shalimar's maid to come as an additional chaperone. In any case, if Ahmad is in Kuala Lumpur, I am sure that he will look after Shalimar there."

Faridah's heart sang. She felt a change in Hussein's att.i.tude; she liked his solicitous and caring manner when he spoke to Shalimar. She recalled how he sought Shalimar's company after dinner last evening. However, there remained the problem of An Mei. She was still in the guesthouse in Kuala Lumpur and Faridah did not want Hussein to see her. She would have to get rid of the girl somehow.

With a broad confident smile, she said to Shalimar, "I leave him in your hands. See that he does not go astray. And buy something pretty."

She watched as Hussein and Shalimar left the room. Then she sprang up and with a speed that belied her age went into the adjourning library. She locked the door securely behind her and paused for a moment with her back pushed against it. A determined look crossed her face. She strode to the huge desk at the corner and picked up the phone, her fingers nimbly dialling before speaking into the mouthpiece. "I don't care how you do it, just make sure that she leaves the country. Take her by force if you have to, I want her put on the first available plane to the UK. I don't think we will have much trouble with Hussein. He seems quite besotted with Shalimar. He will be leaving for Kuala Lumpur with her tomorrow morning."

Chapter 7.

Jenny rushed up the path and banged on the dark red door. Not satisfied, she lifted the bra.s.s letterbox to peep into the house before releasing the catch with a clash and a bang. "Come to the door. I have news," she shouted, breathing heavily. Her bosom rose and fell rapidly from the effort of running all the way from the car park.

"We're coming. Wait a minute," shouted Mei Yin.

Mei Yin wrenched open the door.

Jenny could see the top of Nelly's head, just the forehead and eyes, over Mei Yin's shoulders. Both women had obviously been crying.

Mei Yin took hold of Jenny's arm and ushered her into the house. "Tell us! What news? Do you know where she is?" Her voice rose. In her anxiety, she banged the door shut.

"Shhh! Slow down both of you," warned Nelly pointing with her finger to the floor above them. "Ming Kong is asleep. You are not going to get anywhere by shouting. It's always like this when the two of you get together. All you will succeed in doing is waking up Ming Kong and having him rush down. You know as well as I do that it would best for us discuss this calmly before getting him involved."

Jenny stopped mid-stride and turned to Mei Yin. She remembered Ming Kong's animosity towards her. He thought her a bad influence. There was even a time when he had forbidden his wife from seeing her. What would he do now if he knew that she had been instrumental in introducing Hussein to An Mei?

"Are you sure it is alright for me to stay?"

Their answer was to lead her into the kitchen. Nelly closed the door gently, wincing at the creaking sound it made. "Quick, tell us." Both women moved closer to Jenny.

"Hussein took An Mei to his parent's house in Kuala Lumpur. He left almost immediately with them for his hometown on the east coast. Poor An Mei was left on her own for days in the house. Then, according to the servants, she vanished. They could tell me nothing."

"Did you ask Hussein?" Nelly demanded.

"It took me a long time to get hold of him. At first no one seemed able or willing to get him to the phone. I felt I was bashing my head against a brick wall. One of the servants eventually told me that Hussein had returned to KL. So I called again and managed finally to speak to him. He had little to add to what I already knew about An Mei, but he did admit reluctantly that his parents were against An Mei. I had warned him that would happen, but he chose to ignore me."

"So where is our daughter, what has become of her?"

"I'm so sorry, but I just don't know," admitted Jenny. She was at a loss as to what to say. Her sources had told her of Faridah's antagonism towards An Mei and of Ahmad's visit. She did not wish to alarm her friends of her own suspicion. It could be nothing.

Mei Yin looked unconvinced. She saw the guilt in Jenny's face. "You are hiding something from us," said Mei Yin.

"I don't really know. I... I just heard that Hussein's mother wanted An Mei out of the house before Hussein returned to it."

"How do you mean? You mean they've kidnapped her, harmed her?

"I don't know." She regretted her words and tried to calm Mei Yin and Nelly. "It might be that they just forced her to leave the house."

"Who are these people? How could they turn a young girl out onto the streets, particularly at a time like this, when it was their son who invited her?" asked Nelly turning to Mei Yin, bewildered. "What has An Mei got herself into?" And as Jenny explained Hussein's family and the ambition they had for him, both Mei Yin and Nelly fell silent. They held on to each other's hands, finding comfort in the contact. They could not understand why this had happened. They felt as though something precious had been wrenched violently from them. They had lost a daughter. An Mei's short phone call to say she was leaving without any prior warning had left them distraught. It came as a complete shock that she could behave in such a callous way. Now it seemed that even this thin thread of connection leading to KL was broken.

"Can you do something, Jenny? Please help us to find her."

Jenny took their hands in hers and shook her head, unable to bring herself to say no. She felt guilty for introducing An Mei to Hussein, but all her pleading with her husband to intervene had fallen on deaf ears. "Datuk can't help. He said he does not know how or what to do."

Chapter 8.

When Ahmad left, An Mei had remained huddled on the floor. Feelings of shame and anger had coursed through her mind. It drained her of energy. Slowly she picked herself up, every movement an effort. She felt lifeless and heavy. Every sinew in her neck was taut, painful. She returned to her room and lay on the bed, unsure what to do. She closed her eyes. A sense of utter loneliness enveloped her.

She felt a presence in the room. Frightened she sat up abruptly, swinging her legs to the floor. "Who is there?" she asked.

From the shadows behind the canopy of the bed, a figure appeared. An Mei heaved a sigh of relief. It was the young maid who normally brought her meals and clothes. "Why are you hiding there?"

"Shhh," the girl signed, pointing to the door and to her ears. She came forward and whispered. "Saya mari tolong. I have come to help you."

An Mei looked at her suspiciously.

"You know Datin Zainab?" asked the girl.

An Mei shook her head.

"I mean," the girl hesitated, not knowing if she could be so familiar as to use the Datin's name, "Datin Zainab, Jenny?"

An Mei smiled, her first in many days. "Yes! Yes!" she said. It came back to her that Zainab was Jenny's Muslim name when she converted, although she never used the name with her friends.

"She called and asked for you. We told her that you had vanished. We were instructed to say that."

"By whom?"

The girl backed away. She looked terrified.

"I can't tell you. But I overheard that you are not wanted here and that you are to disappear. Datin Zainab said that she would reward me if I could find you and keep you safe. I replied that I knew nothing about your whereabouts or your situation. I was frightened. But I have thought it over since. I will help you to leave this place."

"How? How will you help me?"

"But first will you promise to put in a good word for me if you see Datin? Say that it was Fawziah who helped you. She will remember me. She recommended me to this job."

An Mei was not keen to make the commitment. She hardly knew the maid, but she detected the urgency in her voice, the fear in her face. What choice had she? She remembered Ahmad's visit, his threats and insinuations. She nodded.

"We will leave now. First let me do something with your hair." Gathering An Mei's hair into a coil, she roughly pinned it into a knot at the base of her neck. "Now put this hijab on." The maid thrust a thin green coloured headscarf into An Mei's hands. "Draw it close around your face. Like this." She demonstrated tugging the cloth around An Mei's neck. "Here, let me help you put on this sarong." She wound the sarong round An Mei's waist and secured it with a thin belt. "Leave your shift loose on top. It will do as a makeshift Malay dress."

Leading her into the corridor, she made An Mei stand and wait at each corner while she did a quick recce before motioning her to go forward. "This is a good time to leave. Most people are at their prayers. Do you have a place to go to, someone you trust?"

"I have an aunt and uncle in Kuala Lumpur. They used to live in the Sun Chuen area. I believe they still do although I am not sure. The city has changed so much since I was here two years ago."

"I know where you mean. Just around Kampong Hijau. There was terrible destruction there during the disturbances: two settlements, one Chinese and the other Malay, side by side. I do not know what you might find there. First, however, let's concentrate on getting you out of here."

They crept soft-footed along the marble corridor to a side door that led out to the back. "Stay here. I'll take a look first," Fawziah instructed. A few minutes later she returned. Beckoning An Mei to join her, they ran quickly to a little side gate. "This is the gate that servants and tradesmen use. We are not allowed to use the front entrance. I have the key. Quick! I hear cars coming into the front driveway."

An Mei stared out from the window of the mini bus. Here and there, the burnt facades of a few buildings could be seen, ugly, desolate reminders of what had happened during the riots. Hardly any people were about in the street.

"Hurry, hurry! This is your stop. Remove your head scarf and hide it away and walk quickly," said Fawziah, gesturing to An Mei to leave the bus. "We are in Sun Chuen now and you will not need a headscarf. It is probably best, in fact, not to wear one here. I won't go with you. It is not safe for me. You will have to make your own way to your aunt's house."

"Thank you. I will never forget what you have done. Will you tell Hussein my whereabouts?"

Fawziah did not know if she should do more, but she nodded after a moment's hesitation. "Go," she commanded, "the bus will not stop here for long."

An Mei got down quickly from the bus. She stood for a moment to wave to Fawziah as it pulled away. The warnings from Fawziah made her uneasy and frightened. She walked rapidly as instructed. Leaving the main street, she turned into a smaller side road. Residential houses flanked both sides of it. They seemed relatively untouched. A few had scorch marks, big black streaks that told of attempts to torch them, but the damage was superficial. Here and there, the road tarmac also bore marks of burning. Fawziah had told her that even though the curfew had been lifted and most shops had re-opened, the street atmosphere had changed. The criss-cross singsong parlay of the different ethnic groups was singularly absent. In Chinese dominated areas, no Malays were to be seen and, similarly, in Malay dominated areas, there were no Chinese. People went out only when absolutely necessary.

A man pa.s.sed her pushing a cart. He muttered to her crossly. 'Ni mn moi mang, qi ki hang! Don't you want to live? Walking alone! Go home girl!"

She shrank away from him and hurried to the other side of the road. She was, desperate to be away from him, away from his ominous warning. She looked left and then right, but did not recognise the houses. The road looked different from when she had last been there. Single-story terrace houses stood on one side of the road. Facing them on the other side of the road were double-storey link houses. A hundred metres on, she saw another turning. A sign indicated that it was a dead end. The double-storey detached houses on it look familiar. She half ran towards the cul de sac and saw, nestling in the shade of the Angsana tree, her Aunty Kai Min's house. She picked up speed, her legs pumping fast, not stopping until she was in front of its gate. She grabbed hold of its grills and called, "Aunty Kai Min, open the door. Please open the door." Her legs gave way as she rattled the gates. The fear she had suppressed in the previous days rose like bile in her throat. She retched.

Kai Min tucked a cushion behind An Mei's head and applied a hot towel to her face. "Hold this over your face and breathe in the warmth. It should help refresh you. Now, put some of this tiger balm on your forehead. Here, I'll do it for you," she said taking over the jar with a label showing a pouncing tiger. She dabbed her finger into the jar and took out a big blob of translucent pungent ointment and rubbed it into An Mei's temple. Not satisfied she added a small dab under An Mei's nose. "There, this should do the trick."

Tears appeared in An Mei's eyes as she inhaled the fumes. "No more. I'll be alright."

Kai Min's husband, Tek San, had joined them and watched silently as Kai Min administered to An Mei.

"Why are you here?" he asked. "Your parents left Malaysia about a month ago to join you in England. What happened?"

An Mei told her story. Kai Min and Tek San sat motionless until she finished.

"Why didn't your father and mother tell us? We may have had our differences, but we are still family," asked Tek San, irate that they had not been told earlier.

"They must have been so embarra.s.sed that they chose to ask Jenny for help instead of us. Otherwise, I am sure they would have called," said Kai Min in an attempt to soothe her husband. "But you," she jabbed her finger at An Mei, "what were you thinking? I thought that you were an intelligent girl. You must be mad to run away with a Malay boy at the very time when the Malay and Chinese communities are at loggerheads. How could you even think that it would be alright? Didn't you think about what it would do to your family? Your father and mother were reunited not that long ago. I am sure your father will blame your mother and aunt for all of this. How could you?"

An Mei cringed under their reproachful gaze. Yes. How could she have done all the things she did? she wondered. It all stemmed from that one insane moment at Heathrow when Hussein had turned to her beseechingly and mouthed the words, "Come with me."

"We'll have to call them. To tell them that you are at least safe."

"Then what, Aunty Kai Min?"

"That will depend on what your parents say."

"I don't want to go home without first speaking to Hussein."

"Enough! Enough, I say!" shouted Tek San. He jumped up from his seat. "You selfish, stupid girl! If he had cared for you, he would not have left you alone in KL. He would not have left you at the mercy of that rascal Ahmad. I have heard of him. He is renowned for throwing his weight around and that Hussein of yours is obviously weak."

"We'll call your parents now!" said Kai Min picking up the phone. "You deal with it," she said thrusting the phone at An Mei. "It is your mess and your parents may not want us to interfere."

An Mei sat on the bed and drew her knees up until she was hunched into a tight ball. She plucked at the bed cover, crumpling the starched cloth in her fist at random until the sheet was a ma.s.s of little hillocks. Tears ran down her cheeks and on to her blouse. Everything had been decided for her once again. She was to return to Oxford, alone, without Hussein. She must never see him again. Her father had said that this 'little' incident, as he put it, would never be mentioned again. Her mother and aunty Nelly were overjoyed. Their happiness reflected in their voices, "Come home! Suen le! Suen le! It is over! It is over! We'll not talk about it again. It's already forgotten." Their joy had moved her and she felt once again the intense guilt that had haunted her since she left for Malaysia with Hussein. Now as she sat on the bed, the feeling of guilt and self-contempt was overtaken by anger. She doubled over, hands pressed into her tummy. The hurt in her heart was like a physical pain.

"Why? Why Hussein? Why have you let me down?!" she moaned.

Chapter 9.

In the opulent surroundings of his parents' home in Kuala Lumpur, Hussein sat in awkward silence with Shalimar. He was spent from the furious exchange he had just had with Ahmad. He was exhausted, worried, frustrated and helpless. He had accused Ahmad of kidnapping An Mei and demanded to see her. He had got nowhere.

"Bukan saya. It is not me. I have nothing to do with her disappearance. Ask any of the servants here. Of course, I wanted her to leave, but I did nothing," Ahmad had protested, bl.u.s.tering with righteous indignation.

Hussein did not believe him nor did he believe his mother and father when they too protested that they had taken no part in An Mei's disappearance.

He did not understand how she could have vanished without anyone knowing. Panic rose in him. He feared for An Mei's safety. He got up and walked towards the door, only to retrace his steps until he towered over Shalimar. "Did Ahmad let slip any clue as to the whereabouts of An Mei?" he asked her. She stared blankly at him. It irritated him that she did not seem to share his concern for An Mei. "Think! What did he say to you?" he shouted.

"Minta maaf! I'm sorry. He did not say anything to me," she replied. She poured out a cup of tea, found it cold and beckoned Fawziah to come forward. "Please bring us fresh tea. This is cold."

"Stop fussing with the tea. Go, go if you cannot help," he yelled venting his anger on her. Once alone, he felt ashamed. He wanted to make amends.

"Fawziah, please would you tell Tengku Shalimar that I apologise for my outburst." Every minute that went by weighed on him like a millstone; he feared and imagined the worst.

"May I speak to you sir?" Fawziah asked softly. "I have something important to tell you."

Hussein who had been re-making his way to the door stopped in his track. He turned to look at Fawziah, a glimmer of suspicion and surprise in his eyes. "Go on, tell me."