'Margaret always seemed to be holding something inside her,' said Paul. 'When I first met her I thought she was a very straight-laced lady. I thought she disapproved of me.'

'Never! She loved you,' exclaimed Caroline. 'Especially after we moved in with her and she could boss you around.' Caroline smiled and gave her husband an affectionate kiss. 'You were so patient, so kind and easygoing all those years.'

'Shame you've turned into a grumpy old man, Dad,' joked Julie affectionately.

That night after Caroline and Paul had gone to sleep Julie sent an email to Chris, telling him that they'd met Bette and how amazing she was, not just because she was nearly ninety, but because she was an artist and a warm and vibrant woman.

She told us how she and Margaret became separated and how she ended up in a POW camp with Philip. She also told us that the man she loved and was probably going to marry was horribly killed. And yet she says she has had a full, good life. Mum and I are curious about her marriage to Tony Tsang. She seems quite happy to tell us about it. Dad thinks that now she's started reminiscing, she'll want us to know everything. I'll write more tomorrow. Julie.

Julie lay in bed trying to read but she kept putting her book down and thinking about Bette. Then to her surprise her mobile rang. She grabbed it, wondering who would ring her at this late hour. When she saw the name on her mobile, her heart leapt.

'Hi, Chris! What's up? This is a nice surprise.'

'Hi, Jules, I got your email and figured you might still be awake. Is it okay to talk?' His voice was warm and familiar and she found she couldn't stop smiling.

She spoke softly. 'I'm curled up in bed trying to read, but I can't stop wondering about my aunt. How are you?'

'Nothing new this end, for the moment anyway. It sounds as though Aunt Bette is something out of the box. Are you happy you found her? No nasty surprises, skeletons in closets?'

'No, nothing like that at all. Even without knowing anything about her life, she's a personable woman. She's quite different from my grandmother, even though they were sisters. Bette seems very open, warm and giving. Gran was a closed sort of person.'

'You mean bitter?'

'No, more a private person. Not at all outgoing.'

'On another topic, you haven't mentioned the battle of the bypa.s.s lately.'

'A glimmer of light. David Cooper is going through some old records. There was a similar plan for a bypa.s.s a few years back which was abandoned and David wants to know why.'

'And how is the good Doctor Cooper?' asked Chris, and she knew he was smiling.

'The same. He's rather like an uncontrollable puppy dog, desperate to be loved but actually rather irritating. But I feel bad thinking that about him, he's doing a terrific job on this bypa.s.s and Mum really likes him and appreciates his efforts, so I'm being mean.'

'I have to admit I'm rather pleased you feel the way you do, though,' said Chris. 'I'm jealous that he's in and out of your house, involved with your family, helping you. I wish I could see more of you. I was hoping you'd have time to come back up here.'

Julie cradled the phone against her pillow. 'I wish you were here too.'

There was a brief silence. It was as if Chris was going to say something then changed his mind. Then he said, 'How's your job going?'

'It's fine. I'm keeping busy, which is good. Mum enjoyed Adelaide.'

'Well, enjoy the bright lights of Cairns. Will you keep me posted about Bette's story? Now we've been to Rose Mansion, I want to know all about her life in Penang.'

'Me too. Thanks for the call, it's been great hearing your voice,' said Julie. 'I miss you, Chris,' she added suddenly.

'I'm pleased about that. I miss you too. Sleep tight.' Sleep didn't come easily despite the late hour. When she finally did fall asleep, Julie kept her phone under her pillow as if through it, she could reach out and touch Christopher.

12.

AS JULIE'S FATHER HAD surmised, Bette was enthusiastic when Julie and Caroline arrived to spend the next day with her. She was settled comfortably in a chair and her eyes sparkled. surmised, Bette was enthusiastic when Julie and Caroline arrived to spend the next day with her. She was settled comfortably in a chair and her eyes sparkled.

'Suzie has made us lunch and left it in the kitchen, so we won't be disturbed at all,' said Bette. 'Suddenly it seems important to me that you, my Australian family, my blood relations, know my my story.' story.'

1950.

The white house glowed with a mellow warmth as yellow light spilled from its windows onto the verandah. Ted Oldham watched as his daughter Bette walked up the hill from the bus stop. She called out to him as she came through the garden.

'Now, how'd you know I was out here?' he said.

'The red glow from your cigarette,' she answered, knowing he'd been watching and waiting for her.

'Pleased to be back in Brisbane?' he asked as she came up the steps. 'You could stay here and get a job, you know. Why don't you do a secretarial course?'

'Mum's been in your ear again, has she? I don't think she wants me to go back to Sydney. Mmm, something smells good.' She followed her father down the hallway to the kitchen.

Winifred looked up from the flour-covered tabletop where she was rolling out pastry. 'Glad you got back safely, dear. Dinner won't be long. It's lovely cooking for more than just your father and me. I'm so glad that you've come back for a holiday. It would be even better if you could get a nice job here, at home.'

'Mother, we've been through this. Brisbane is such a backwater. I know that Sydney is not the centre of the universe, either, but there are more opportunities there than there are here.'

'Let her be, Win,' said her father. 'What's for tea?'

'Steak and kidney pie,' said Winifred flattening the circle of pastry with a firm bang of the rolling pin.

Bette wandered out of the kitchen. She knew her parents worried about her future. It had taken some time for her health to return after the years of deprivation in the prison camp, but she had been determined to catch up on life. She enjoyed Sydney, mixing with the bohemian artists, while she worked in several jobs. But Bette felt that she had lived for so long minute by minute, day by day, that she still couldn't bring herself to make long-term plans. Maybe Winifred was right and that she was indulging herself by doing only what interested her and gave her pleasure. Art seemed to fulfil her. She was content losing herself in the images she could paint, which replaced the ugly scenes that haunted her sleep.

'There's a letter for you from Margaret. I put it on your bed,' said Winifred. 'I do hope she's sent some photos of Philip and our dear little Caroline.'

Margaret and Philip had returned to Malaya three and a half years ago. Eventually Margaret had given birth to a daughter, whom they'd named Caroline, while Roland tried to rebuild Utopia after the devastation of the war. But clearly life was difficult. In her letters home, Margaret described things as being tiresome, nowhere near as glamorous as the pre-war years had been.

Bette skimmed through the opening niceties of the letter, before finding the real reason her sister had written: And while I understand you're absorbed in whatever you do in Sydney, it would be very nice, and very helpful, if you could come up and visit us. Roland agrees with me and, indeed, is very keen to have you here again. Unfortunately, you must realise that things won't be as they were. Sadly many of the wonderful men like Gilbert are no longer around. As you know, the estate was a disaster at the end of the war and it's a big job for Roland to get things turned around, especially without his father, although some of the old staff are still here to help. I'd like the opportunity to get out and about a bit, and if you were here I'm sure Roland would be more amenable to the children and me taking a few little trips. I'd also like Caroline to meet someone from my family and it would be nice to have you here to brighten our dreary social calendar! I know Mother and Father are getting on a bit and, anyway, they're not travellers, so I don't expect them to visit me. You don't have a proper job to speak of, so it's easy for you to leave. It would please us both if you could come. I've enclosed some current photographs of Caroline for you.Love, your sister, Margaret There was little mention of Philip in the letter. Bette had kept in touch with her nephew and sent him ill.u.s.trations of things she thought would interest him, as well as a good supply of Australian storybooks. His thank you notes for these gifts were short and revealed little about himself. Bette wondered how he was getting on. Children were resilient, she told herself, so she hoped that he had put all the horrors of the war behind him and was now a happy, normal boy.

Several days later another letter arrived from Malaya. Bette realised at once that it wasn't from her sister and hoped that nothing had happened to cause the invitation to be withdrawn. To her surprise, the note was from Roland.

... I'm pleased to hear you are doing well, Bette. I know Margaret has written inviting you to visit and I just wanted to add that it is also my sincere hope that you will come. I'm a little concerned that Margaret is rather restless and dispirited by our current situation. Young Caroline is a delight and Philip, well you wouldn't know him from the child who arrived back here after the war, he has grown so. I will always be in your debt for caring for him. I know you saved his life and I'm sure that your actions were at a cost to yourself. I think it would do us all good to have your company here for as long as you wish, and to that end, I insist on providing you an airline ticket. You'll find the country is going through troubled times at present, and life at Utopia is not as it was. Those carefree days have gone and what is yet to come remains unsure. However, putting these troubles aside, there is no doubt that we would very much enjoy your company. It would be a very welcome distraction for your sister, and I need not tell you how much your presence would mean to Philip. I look forward to welcoming you back to Utopia.Warmly, Roland Bette was slightly surprised, even a little concerned, at this gentle pressure from Roland and she wondered about Margaret. She had vaguely heard about the political problems in Malaya, and Margaret and Roland's letters had confirmed it. Still, there was no question in Bette's mind. This was a wonderful opportunity to return to Malaya and she was going to take it.

But her parents questioned her decision.

'You must have so many unhappy memories of that country, and there's a bit of trouble brewing there, according to the newspaper,' said her father.

'Of course, it would be lovely to visit with little Caroline,' said her mother. 'And I suspect Margaret might be a bit lonely, not having the social whirl she was used to before the war.'

'I'm sure there's still some social scene,' said Bette, fondly recalling her previous visit with the Elliotts. 'But I suspect Roland is less inclined to party and hunt since he's working so hard to build the plantation up again. And it does seem that he doesn't like Margaret going out and about by herself. But I'm a free agent these days. I'll have to go back to Sydney and resign from my job. I can always get another one when I get back.'

'A free spirit, indeed,' said her father. 'I just hope that Malaya doesn't disappoint you again.'

Because she was flying, Bette found herself packing very carefully. She put in her art materials, added her favourite book, and photographs of her parents and their garden to show Margaret, and she gave a lot of thought to presents for Philip and Caroline.

She was amazed that it took so short a time to fly from Sydney to Singapore and then on to KL, especially compared with her sea voyage ten years ago. Aeroplane travel was the future, the man seated next to Bette told her. Long sea voyages were now just for the young or the elderly with plenty of time on their hands, he added.

Bette was momentarily taken aback by the impact of her emotions when Margaret met her at the airport in Kuala Lumpur.

'Margaret, I can't believe that it's more than three years. You look wonderful. Motherhood obviously suits you.'

'You look very well yourself,' said Margaret. 'I guess having no responsibilities suits you.'

Bette was disappointed that Caroline and Philip weren't there as well, but she was touched when she realised that Margaret wanted to share a few days in KL, just the two of them.

Bette was also delighted to see Hamid again.

'Is everything well with you, Hamid, and your family?' asked Bette shaking his hand warmly.

The driver nodded, his eyes moist, clearly pleased to see Bette. Then he was once again his smiling, deferential self. For Bette, seeing him again in such normal circ.u.mstances, the wild nightmare drive to Singapore all those years ago seemed like a strange dream that had happened to someone else.

'It is very good to see you again, mem. You will see many changes. Tuan kechil is grown up now. He is learning many things at Utopia.'

Margaret sniffed at this comment. 'Following his father around, trying to boss the workers and messing in the rubber factory with the latex. And he keeps pestering Roland to take him flying. We have a plane now, an Auster. Roland flies around as much as he can because he says some of the roads aren't safe.'

'I suppose that now he's twelve, you'll be sending him to boarding school?' asked Bette.

'Roland put Philip's name down at his old school in England before he was born. I'd much rather he went to school in Australia, it's much closer. Going to school in England means he'll never really know or visit our parents in Brisbane. But Roland insists that that's the way it's to be and his mother backs him. I wish she'd keep out of it.'

Bette nodded. She realised at once that Margaret was not looking forward to losing her son and she thought this was quite understandable. 'I'm so looking forward to meeting little Caroline. I can't wait to see her.'

'She's running around and becoming very independent. You may recall how the servants indulge and spoil the children. Caroline will be princess of the estate while I'm away,' said Margaret.

'Yes, she'd probably have a better time there than getting bored shopping and dining out with us,' said Bette, who wasn't especially looking forward to doing these activities either.

Nevertheless, as she and Margaret spent the next few days travelling about the city, Bette found that being back in bustling Malaya was exhilarating. All signs of wartime austerity were gone. She would have liked to explore more of KL, but Margaret flatly refused to venture into Chinatown or the seedy areas, preferring to wander through the new department stores.

Margaret was pleased with her purchases and enjoyed her break away in the city. She was a lot more relaxed as Hamid drove the two of them to the Selangor Club for tea. 'We'll have to do this again, or we could take another trip. I was thinking of going to the Cameron Highlands or Fraser's Hill. I could take the children, Caroline's old enough to enjoy that,' said Margaret.

Hamid glanced at them in the rear-vision mirror of Roland's new Oldsmobile. 'Tuan says that it's not so safe to travel in the countryside, mem,' he advised. 'The communists are making trouble for everyone.'

'Those wretched Chinese communists. It's all a lot of fire in the belly and shouting, as far as I'm concerned,' said Margaret. 'They want the British out of Malaya, but these people aren't ready to rule themselves.'

'Be independent, like India? I don't know about that, Margaret. Surely the most important issue is for all the different races to live together in peaceful harmony and then decide what sort of an independent Malaya they want,' said Bette.

'Really, Bette, you've been so far removed from all of this. Speak to Roland before venturing an opinion, though frankly I think some of the planters are being rather alarmist. We've had no trouble on Utopia.' She nudged Bette and nodded her head towards Hamid. 'It's rumours and innuendo flying around that start the trouble.'

In spite of Margaret's comments about the communists, when they left KL, their car was escorted by two special constables armed with submachine guns. Margaret admitted to Bette that Roland would not allow her to travel to KL and back without such an escort.

As they approached Utopia, Bette began to recognise the once familiar countryside. As soon as the car slid under the portico, two people appeared at the front door. Bette gasped as she realised that one of them was Philip. She saw he was now a young man, not yet as tall as his father, who looked, Bette thought, rather careworn. Hamid opened Bette's door and she leapt out of the car and raced to the steps as Roland came down to embrace her.

'Welcome, welcome. Wonderful to see you again, Bette. h.e.l.lo, darling,' he said, turning to Margaret as she stepped from the car.

Bette stood at the bottom of the four steps staring up at Philip. They looked at each other curiously. Then slowly a smile broke out on Philip's face and in one leap he was down the steps, standing before her.

Bette couldn't speak. The physical memory of the thin body she'd held in her arms night after night in the camp was imprinted on her mind and on her body, but this strong, firm frame was almost unrecognisable. As was his voice, which had lost its high, childish tone.

'Bet-Bet.'

She laughed and hugged him. 'I haven't been called that in a long time. You look wonderful. I can't believe how tall you are.'

'Goodness, Bette, remember how we hated people saying that to us when we were young?' Margaret leaned towards Philip, offering her cheek to be kissed. 'Where's Caroline?'

'Asleep,' said Philip taking Bette's arm. 'Can I show Bette to her room?'

'Good idea, take Bette's small bag. Ho and Hamid can bring in the rest,' said Roland.

'Ho is still here! That's wonderful, he must be very old,' said Bette. 'And Ah Kit? That was the name of your houseboy when you were in the other house, wasn't it?'

'He no longer works for me,' said Roland.

Philip took Bette's small carry bag. She wanted to say that she was travelling with more luggage than the last time the two of them had travelled together, but she wasn't sure how a flippant remark about the past would be received.

'I'll go and check on Caroline,' said Margaret.

'I can't wait to see her,' said Bette, following Philip up the stairs.

'She's a bundle of energy. A bit of a tomboy. Mother put you in this room. It has a nice view.' He put her bag down.

'I'm so pleased to see you looking ... so well,' said Bette.

'You look different too. I think you're very pretty,' said Philip shyly. He paused awkwardly. 'Thank you for the letters, the books and pictures.'

'I'm glad you liked them.'

'Yes. I wrote to you,' he said.

'Thank you. I enjoyed receiving your notes. I'm hoping to do some more drawings while I'm here,' said Bette. As they left the bedroom, Bette asked, 'Are you looking forward to boarding school?'

'Yes, lots. All my friends have been going for years. I can't wait to play cricket and rugby with them. I'm starting next term.'

Bette didn't pursue the subject. She had thought that perhaps Philip would not want to go to school so far away from home but clearly he was eager to. 'So what do you do with yourself here, when you're not studying?'

'I'm learning the plantation business. I like to watch the tappers working, but it's most fun to mess around where the latex is drying. Those sheets remind me of spooky ghosts.' He grinned. 'And we've got a fast boat down at the river so I drive that.'

'You'll have to take me out in it,' said Bette.

Margaret appeared in the hallway. 'He's not supposed to take that boat out alone.'

'Is the pagar still there? Maybe we could go on a picnic,' suggested Bette.