'I'd like you to know that I've enjoyed your company more than I can say, Margaret. More than I have with anyone else. You'll be in my thoughts for a long time to come.'

'Mine too,' said Margaret.

'Then perhaps you might consider this.' He reached into his pocket and took out a small velvet box and placed it in front of her. 'Margaret, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?'

Margaret gasped and her hand shook as she put down her gla.s.s and opened the little box. Nestled inside was a ring, a sky-blue stone surrounded by diamonds. 'Oh, Roland. It's beautiful. Of course, oh yes. Yes, I'd love to marry you.'

'Excellent.' He took the ring and put it on her finger and leaned across and kissed her softly. 'Then it's settled. I hope you like it,' he added as Margaret held out her hand to admire the ring. 'It's a jolly good Ceylon sapphire, perfect, just like you.'

'It's really beautiful. And it's special because of our being here, isn't that so?'

'I thought so. Now, my dear, let's order dinner. We do have quite a few things to discuss. Naturally I will write to your father and formally ask him for your hand in marriage. Have to do the right thing.'

'Will we get married in Brisbane?'

''Fraid not. I've just had my leave. No, you'll have to come to Kuala Lumpur. Any problem with that?'

Margaret gulped. She would have liked a wedding at home with all her friends and family to show off her handsome husband but instead she said, 'I'm sure my mother will come. But Father runs a business, so taking time away might be difficult. And Bette is still at school.'

'You'll work things out. We can discuss plans later. You'll have to book a pa.s.sage up to Singapore as soon as you can.'

'So then a wedding in three or four months?' asked Margaret feeling quite breathless, already wondering how she could get a wedding dress made and a trousseau together so quickly.

Roland earnestly began to explain how their life would revolve around Utopia, the family plantation. He talked of the obligations and tribulations, but also of the community of workers, which he called the plantation estate 'family'.

'It will be quite different from your life in Australia,' he said. 'But there is a wonderful social life, even in our isolated area, and an excellent social scene in Penang and KL when we go there.' He patted her hand. 'I know you'll get on with everyone and you'll handle the climate much better than the English wives do, coming from Queensland,' he said confidently.

So it was decided. Winifred, Margaret's mother, would accompany her daughter to Kuala Lumpur, where the wedding would take place at St Mary's Church. A pa.s.sage on a P&O steamer was booked to Singapore. From there, they would take the coastal steamship to Port Swettenham and then the local train would take them to Kuala Lumpur where Roland would meet them. The wedding would take place a week later.

Roland's father, Eugene, would attend the wedding, but his mother, Charlotte, was still in England. Because Margaret's father was unable to be there, Roland suggested that Dr Hamilton, the Scottish doctor in Perak and a great friend of the Elliotts, could give her away.

There was much fussing over Margaret's trousseau. Winifred fretted that Margaret's clothes might not be considered as stylish and as up to date as some of the clothes that came from Europe or London, but in one of his weekly letters, Roland offered some advice.

'My dear, the tailors in Malaya are excellent. Bring some pictures from ladies' magazines and have them copy them. They can make them cheaply and quickly.'

'He may be right. Why don't you take some lengths of good fabric,' suggested her mother.

Fine table linens and some favourite pieces of family silver were given to Margaret for her glory box, and Winifred offered to send her anything else she might need in the coming months, which she couldn't obtain 'up there'.

Roland made all the arrangements for the wedding and reception, which he hoped would meet with their approval.

'St Mary's is an impressive church, and jolly handy to The Dog. That's what we call the Selangor Club.'

'I do hope that the Peninsula Hotel which Roland has organised for the reception is adequate, not a rowdy sort of place,' worried Winifred.

Margaret was swept up in the whole idea of being a wife and living on an exotic plantation, which she described in extravagant detail to her friends. When her mother asked which country they might eventually end up in, especially if children came along, Margaret ignored the question.

'Why, we have the best of all worlds, surely. Roland has family in England, his parents in Malaya and my family here.'

Winifred looked sad. 'I fear your family here will be at the bottom of the list. But never mind, so long as you are happy, comfortable and healthy, that's all I ask.'

'Mother, don't be silly. Of course we'll come and visit. Lots of times,' said Margaret, although she was unsure how often this would be. Roland had mentioned a trip back to England every couple of years or so.

Margaret embraced her father and sister at the station at Roma Street before she and her mother alighted the Sydney- bound train. In Sydney they would board their liner. It wasn't until the train had left the station and gathered speed that it occurred to Margaret that she was leaving her home and family and had no idea when she might see them again. She was glad that her mother was travelling with her, though she did suspect she'd be looking after Winifred more than the other way around. Winifred was not much of a traveller.

'I do hope Ted will manage,' said Winifred, dabbing at her eyes as she waved goodbye to her husband and younger daughter.

'Bette will keep an eye on him. They'll be fine. Now, Mother, I need you to be strong. You're supposed to be helping me, the nervous bride,' said Margaret, not looking the least bit concerned or nervous.

'Yes, dear. You're right,' sighed her mother. 'It just seems such a big step. Marriage. A strange country. Different sort of people.' She struggled to smile. 'Well, at least I'll know where you are, and you can explain it all to us when you write.'

'That's right. Now let's make the most of the trip. The voyage will be fun and very relaxing for you. A real holiday,' said Margaret.

When the time came to disembark, Winifred eyed the Singapore River, crowded with all manner of strange small craft as well as ships and freighters. In front of the G.o.downs and warehouses was stacked all kinds of cargo. On the wharves, among the crush of people, Chinese coolies in their peaked hats carried poles weighed down with heavy baskets, while Indian porters pushed barrows laden with luggage and trishaw drivers touted for business. Sauntering Europeans in starched uniforms or linen suits stood out as they carefully escorted well-dressed women who carried umbrellas to ward off the sun. As Margaret watched from the deck, she saw many of them nodding and exchanging greetings.

Winifred fanned herself and wondered what kind of a world they'd come to and how she'd cope with it all, even for a short time.

Margaret seemed quite calm amidst all the chaos and, helped by the purser, found an Indian taxi driver. 'He's honest and reliable, miss. He will take you to the dock where the Straits Steamship leaves for Port Swettenham and help you with your luggage, which has gone ahead.'

They set off, the taxi nosing its way through the crowd of trishaws, drays, carts, pedestrians and cars.

When they arrived at the dock from where the Straits Steamship was leaving, Margaret whispered to her mother, 'Honest, my foot. I think he's taken us in a very circuitous way.'

'Never mind, dear, just pay him what he asks and let's find our belongings,' said Winifred, feeling faint.

'You'll feel better after a good rest. Our steamship leaves at four this afternoon for Port Swettenham, and then it's just a short train trip to Kuala Lumpur in the morning. We're very lucky that the arrival of our P&O ship coincided with the departure of the coastal vessel, so we don't have to wait around in Singapore,' said Margaret.

'Yes, but all the same this travelling is so tiresome,' said Winifred. 'But I must say you've handled everything splendidly, Margaret. I really am impressed with the way you've managed all this. Such a pity Roland couldn't meet us.'

'He'll meet us at the railway station in Kuala Lumpur as planned, Mother.'

Their cabin on the small Straits Steamship was comfortable, and the officers and other pa.s.sengers on board were very friendly. When it became known Margaret was travelling to her wedding, toasts were made and best wishes exchanged. The two women slept well, the sensation of being at sea was familiar and after a hearty breakfast they docked at Port Swettenham at eight. Margaret had arrived on the mainland of Malaya.

Margaret and Winifred looked through the train window at the busy port as it pulled out of the station. Soon they were in the countryside. The scenery changed to one of villages with red-roofed shops, their colourful goods displayed outside and their signs written in Chinese characters. They pa.s.sed bright green rice fields, small towns, a sweep of jungle with glimpses of thatched huts, a man on a bicycle wearing a sarong, a woman carrying baskets and children playing near a river. Stray chickens pecked by the side of a red dirt road. The larger towns were crowded with trishaws, bicycles and cars. Laden drays and carts were pulled by horses, buffalo and oxen. To Winifred it all seemed dirty and smelly, but Margaret didn't seem to care.

Margaret knew that her mother was bothered by these scenes and she put any disquiet she might have felt herself to one side and maintained a positive outlook. She a.s.sumed that she would rarely, if ever, mingle in the squalid areas the train pa.s.sed through, for Roland had given her the impression of a grand lifestyle, although he had been honest about their comparative isolation.

It was with great relief that, as the train steamed into the station at Kuala Lumpur, Margaret spotted the tall figure of Roland waiting on the platform. She pointed him out to her mother. He looked very smart in a white linen suit, holding his solar topee.

Doors banged and before the hissing rush of steam from the engine had dissipated, Margaret had stepped down from the train, waving a lace-edged handkerchief to her husband-to-be.

He reached her and kissed her cheek, smiling broadly. 'Margaret, it's wonderful to see you. I'd almost forgotten how pretty you are.' Nodding to the Indian standing behind him, he said, 'Hamid, get the memsahib's luggage and take it to the car.' He stepped forward and helped Winifred down from the train.

'My, what a trip. It's so good to be here at last,' she said. 'Oh, this is an impressive railway station,' she added, gazing up at the soaring ceiling and grand entrance.

'Roland, this is my mother, Mrs Oldham.'

'I'm so pleased to meet you, Mrs Oldham. I hope your journey was not too tiresome.'

'It was not too terrible, I suppose. But please, not Mrs Oldham, call me Mother, or Winifred.'

'How far away is the hotel where we're staying?' asked Margaret.

'Very close, it's the Station Hotel. It's a great old place. I think you'll enjoy it. Hamid will bring the car.'

'Look at those little contraptions that those men are pedalling. Like the ones we saw in Singapore,' said Margaret, looking at the little canopied bicycles lined up in front of the station.

'Are they safe?' asked Winifred doubtfully as Roland, Margaret's arm tucked in his, led them towards the car.

'Trishaws are a form of transport you'll have to try,' said Roland. 'They'll get through the traffic faster than a car. Ah, there's Hamid with Father's automobile now.'

Safely in the hotel, Margaret and Winifred settled themselves at a table and ordered tea and dainty sandwiches on a terrace facing a lush garden. Mother and daughter exchanged a glance as two Chinese waiters in crisp uniforms with bra.s.s b.u.t.tons hovered close by, ready to pour milk and pa.s.s sugar.

'I don't imagine I'll be living in such grand circ.u.mstances,' sighed Margaret. 'But it's very nice to know there are places like this we can enjoy. Roland says there are some excellent hotels around the country and the E&O Hotel in Penang is right on the sea.'

'Yes, but how often will you get away from the plantation?' asked Winifred. 'It sounds like his work keeps him very busy.'

Margaret ignored this remark and began discussing the wedding.

'I do hope Roland has thought to engage a photographer,' she said.

'Indeed I have,' said Roland, as he joined them, removing his hat and sitting down. 'I've taken advice from some of the ladies who know about these sorts of things.'

'Well, Mother, now we're here, I think we can look after any other details,' said Margaret briskly.

'I'm sure you're most capable, my dear,' said Roland with a smile. 'But things are done a bit differently out here in the East, so I hope you'll listen to the good advice from the other mems. Now, after you've settled in your rooms and rested, we shall meet for drinks and over dinner I'll explain all the other plans to you.'

'And can we see the church and reception place? We also have a few last minute purchases,' began Margaret.

Roland held up his hand. 'All in good time. We can start tomorrow, eh?'

'If you don't mind too much, I think I'd like to stay in my hotel room tonight. I'm feeling quite tired. I'll have something sent up for dinner. Besides, I'm sure you two would like to be alone,' said Winifred. 'You must have a lot to catch up on.'

'Thank you, Mother,' said Margaret demurely.

Roland glanced at his watch. 'I have some brief business to attend to while I'm in KL, but I shall tap on your door at five pm.' He leaned over, kissed Margaret's cheek and headed to the hotel foyer, nodding to an acquaintance as he pa.s.sed.

That evening, Hamid drove Roland and Margaret to a small European restaurant on a street filled with eateries. At one end of the street were stalls where hawkers cooked over open fires in sizzling woks. There were local family-style restaurants, a tea house and at the other end of the street where the food places stopped, were some large Chinese homes squatting behind stone and wire fences.

'This is a decent neighbourhood. The proprietors of the place where we are going to eat are Dutch, so I think you'll like the food. You might not take to the local spices straight away,' he said.

'I thought we'd go to your club,' said Margaret, thinking the restaurant rather plain and old fashioned.

'I'd rather we take your mother there for lunch tomorrow. Then I'll take you to the Peninsula Hotel. The manager there will meet you and you can inspect the menu for the wedding reception, that sort of thing. Are you still tired from your journey?'

'Yes, it has been quite a trip. Mother is very glad to be staying in one place for awhile and pleased to be having a tray sent to her room tonight.'

Margaret was pleasantly surprised by the dinner. She enjoyed the food and the attentive service from the couple who owned the restaurant and the fuss they made over meeting Roland's fiancee. Being with Roland felt strange in a way but she began to revel in her role and looked forward to her new status as his wife. Studying him across the table as he chatted, she felt as though she was looking at him for the first time, and she tried to imagine what it would be like to spend the rest of her life with this handsome and sophisticated man.

On the way home she leaned her head against his shoulder in the Oldsmobile, as Hamid nosed through the streets still busy with activity.

'So many people, whole families, all out eating on the street, in eating houses. Do they do that all the time?' she asked.

'Many of them do. It's easier and cheaper, generally,' he answered. 'And eating is a very social occupation in the East ... By Jove, what's happening up ahead?' He spoke rapidly to Hamid, who pulled over.

There was a fire glowing and cl.u.s.ters of people, some of them shouting. Two large Sikh police officers were waving back the crowd.

'Oh my goodness, has there been an accident?' asked Margaret.

'Wait here in the car. I will investigate.' Roland got out of the car.

'Do be careful, Roland.'

The crowd had swelled and seemed to be moving down the street towards the car. Roland stopped a young man as he ran past and spoke to him. The frightened young man pointed behind him to the crowd outside a house where a fire was burning.

'What is happening, Hamid?' Margaret asked the driver.

Hamid shrugged. 'I don't know, mem. Some trouble.'

Margaret got out of the car and hurried after Roland, ignoring Hamid's shouts. As she got closer she could see in front of the doorway of a small house the smouldering remains of some kind of vehicle. But she stopped in shock as, from an alley beside the house, a small Malay man came running, wielding what looked to Margaret like a huge knife. The crowd suddenly parted. Women were screaming and running. The man with the parang stopped as he saw the two policemen and Roland. Even at a distance the sight of the near-naked man holding the large machete in such a threatening manner was very frightening to Margaret. In the glow of the firelight he looked quite crazy and he was shouting incoherently.

'Roland!' she cried.

Furiously Roland turned around and hurried back to her. 'I told you to stay in the car. The man is crazy and he's likely to start slashing at anyone. Go. Now.' He gave her a firm shove.

Margaret was stunned, shocked as much by Roland's brusque manner as by the scene before her. Suddenly the crazed man lunged towards the crowd. Margaret ran. When she reached the car, Hamid quickly opened the door. From there she could see one of the policemen suddenly grab the man from behind, forcing him to drop the weapon. The other policeman was brandishing what looked like a thick wooden stick, hitting the man about the shoulders.

Shaking, Margaret huddled in the corner of the car. The romantic evening was spoiled and suddenly she realised she was in a strange place that had lost its benign novelty. She felt that there was another current here. The mixture of faces and nationalities and the way the people had looked, the fear in their eyes, unsettled her.

Roland spoke to Hamid and got in beside Margaret.

'Sorry I shouted at you but anything could have happened back there. The man went amok. It happens for no reason that anyone knows. These fellows just explode, grab a weapon and threaten to murder anyone in their way. And they do, which is why I wanted you out of sight.'

'Sorry, Roland. I was so afraid for you.'

'Don't worry about me, darling, I can look after myself. Hotel, please, Hamid.'

'Does this happen often?' asked Margaret wondering how safe she'd be in the streets.

'No, not very often. It's mainly Malays, it's as though they just can't cope any more and they go crazy, almost inviting someone to kill them. A dark streak in their normally sunny nature.'

'Amok, is no good, sahib,' said Hamid. 'I think maybe a riot. Chinese people.'

'Riots?' said Margaret, her voice rising.

'There, there. Calm down, dear. There was a clash, a strike over wages last month. An isolated incident caused by some communists.' He smiled. 'Nothing like this happens out at peaceful Utopia.'