CHAPTER 11
Singapore
‘You did what?’ Clara shrieked. It was the day after the Raffles Hotel dinner and the girls were in Dorothy’s bedroom. Still feeling fragile, Dorothy was lying prone beneath the ceiling fan, a damp flannel on her forehead.
She winced; partly in mortification at the memory of the previous evening and partly because of the throbbing pain in her head.
She was not used to drinking such strong cocktails and this hangover was the worst she had ever had.
She closed her eyes and sighed. ‘You heard me! Please don’t make me say it again; I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life! ’
Clara burst out laughing, then regained her composure as she saw the crestfallen look on her friend’s face.
‘Oh, you poor thing!’ She leaned across and rubbed Dorothy’s shoulder, giving her a sympathetic smile.
‘But did you have fun? I saw you dancing with Douglas.’ She raised her eyebrows briefly at this.
‘Then Mummy had one of her headaches and dragged us all home! Honestly, I don’t know why she couldn’t just let me stay and get a lift home with you.
Mothers!’ She shook her head in frustration.
Dorothy sat up and took a sip of water. ‘I barely had time to have any fun.’ She screwed up her eyes and rubbed her temples.
‘But before I made my hasty exit and redecorated the flowerbed, Douglas was very nice to me,’ she continued cautiously.
‘He’s a wonderful dancer. And he’s so handsome.
’ She looked up and saw disapproval etched all over her friend’s face.
‘I know you don’t like him, Clara, but don’t worry; I doubt he’ll ever want to talk to me ever again after what happened.
He’s so grown-up and, well . . . sophisticated, I suppose.
He’ll never want to dance with a stupid girl who can’t even hold a conversation, let alone her drink!
’ She hid her face in her hands and moaned.
‘Oh, Dorothy!’ Clara soothed. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it will soon be forgotten.
And it’s not that I don’t like Douglas, exactly.
’ She sighed. ‘I’ve just heard things about him that .
. . Well, let’s just say things that have earned him his nickname of Dangerous.
Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying.’
Dorothy fell asleep after Clara left. She awoke to find Ah Ling gently touching her shoulder.
‘Miss,’ she began as Dorothy blinked her eyes open. ‘You have visitor.’ The maid’s face widened in a bright smile. ‘He handsome man, miss! He bring you flower. Come now, put on nice dress.’ Ah Ling held up the new royal blue tea dress she had already picked out.
Dorothy screwed up her face. She couldn’t face seeing anyone, never mind a handsome man bringing her flowers. Who could it be? Matthew maybe? It couldn’t possibly be Douglas. ‘Oh, Ah Ling, I feel dreadful and I look an absolute mess! Can you make an excuse? Tell him I’m ill?’
‘You so beautiful, miss, no need worry. I help you. Come, come!’ The maid encouraged her out of bed and sat her in front of the dressing table.
‘First, you drink this,’ Ah Ling said, handing Dorothy a small glass containing an amber coloured liquid.
Dorothy took the glass and wrinkled her nose as she sniffed the hot drink. It was an intriguing mix of sweet and sour, with a tang of an unfamiliar spice.
‘What is this?’ she asked. She looked closely. ‘It’s got bits floating in it!’
‘Salted plum and ginger tea, Miss. I make it for you,’ Ah Ling said with a nod. ‘It traditional Chinese cure, it make you better.’
Dorothy raised her eyebrows. ‘Thanks, Ah Ling, that’s very kind of you. The way I’m feeling today, I’m willing to try anything!’
‘Bottoms up!’ the housemaid said as Dorothy sipped the tea. Dorothy narrowly avoided spilling it everywhere, amused by another of Ah Ling’s unexpected British phrases.
A few minutes later, wearing her new dress and with her hair pinned up, Dorothy pasted on a smile and slowly descended the stairs.
She wasn’t sure exactly what Ah Ling had brewed in the traditional remedy, but for the first time that day, she was finally feeling some relief from the nausea and headache. The housemaid was an absolute godsend.
Male voices were coming from the drawing room, talking and laughing, but fell silent when Dorothy entered.
‘Ah, here she is! Hello Dodo!’ Her father came over to kiss her on the cheek. She cringed at his use of her family pet name when she saw who was in the room, it sounded so childish. Dangerous Douglas stood up from his chair by the window and also made his way over to her.
He was looking dazzlingly handsome; clean shaven, fresh faced and smelling divine. He was dressed in smart linen trousers and a crisp, white short-sleeved shirt. He held out a bunch of pure white orchids.
‘A little something for the patient.’ He smiled down at Dorothy and gave her a wink. ‘I was sorry you were unwell last night. I do hope you’re feeling better today?’
Dorothy thanked him and her father muttered that it must have been something she’d eaten. ‘I’m much better today,’ she said. ‘Thank you for asking.’ She smiled up at him.
‘Well, that is good news,’ he continued.
‘Because I was wondering if you might fancy a bit of fresh air? I need to take my motor out for a run and I was thinking about a drive along the coast. We could head out east towards Changi Point. There’s a delightful little café by the beach where we could stop for refreshments.
’ He turned to Anthony and asked, ‘If that’s alright with you, sir? ’
Her father cheerfully gave his consent and, before Dorothy knew it, Ah Ling was handing her a headscarf and she was on her way out to Douglas’s car.
It was a beautiful machine, polished chrome with immaculate white bodywork.
With the roof folded down, the smart red leather interior was glowing in the sunshine.
Douglas opened the door for her. Her heart raced as she tied her headscarf and slid on her sunglasses.
She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and was pleased with what she saw.
Alongside the handsome Douglas, she really did look the part; a perfect Joan Crawford to his Clark Gable, just like in the movie Love on the Run.
They set off at a steady pace along the residential roads.
When they reached the highway, Douglas opened up the throttle.
It was another hot, sunny day and Dorothy loved the feel of the cool breeze on her face and the pure thrill of it as they sped along.
Douglas was a skilled driver, manoeuvring the motorcar with deft precision as they followed the road through the town and out along the coast.
They left the city behind, then passed through rural kampongs and plantations before eventually reaching Changi, a small fishing village at the far eastern end of the island.
It was a busy spot with locals going about their business and street hawkers calling out, offering cold drinks and freshly cooked fish.
Dorothy was fascinated, it was unlike anything she had seen before.
She made a fuss of the children who came to say hello, delighting in their smiles and ignoring their grubby faces.
Douglas was less delighted, especially when dirty little fingers began poring over the car’s bodywork.
He shooed the children away, then gave instructions to a nearby hawker and handed over some notes from his wallet.
He was obviously entrusting the man with the safekeeping of the sedan.
Then Douglas put on his Panama hat, offered Dorothy his arm and escorted her the short distance to the café.
‘Oh, this is charming!’ Dorothy gushed when the owner showed them out to the back of the building and onto the terrace.
From the road, the café hadn’t looked anything special, a simple, rustic building with a tin roof.
But the view from the back, out across emerald-green waters to the islands in the distance, was spectacular.
The tables were covered in black-and-white-checked fabric with vases of bright pink ginger flowers in the centre.
Douglas ordered tea for them, as well as something Dorothy had never heard of before.
‘They’re called kueh,’ Douglas explained as the waiter brought over a plate of brightly coloured little desserts.
‘Local Malay sweets, made from pandan, coconut, rice and tapioca. Not exactly your classic Victoria sponge, but they’re not too bad. ’
Dorothy tucked in and found herself enjoying the flavours, even if the glutinous texture was a little rubbery.
She sipped the black tea and sat back in her chair.
She was enjoying the feeling of being out exploring in a new country, eating new food with a very handsome new man.
Douglas was easy company and conversation flowed effortlessly from their upbringings back home in England – hers in London and his on his family estate in rural Wiltshire – to their musical tastes, hobbies and passions.
‘So tell me, what brought you out here?’ she asked, curious to learn more about him.
‘Ambition, I suppose.’ He shrugged with a wry smile.
‘I wanted to make a name for myself, not just live off my parents’ money.
And, much as I loved growing up at Highcliffe Manor, after I finished at Oxford I just couldn’t wait to get away from home and see a bit of the world.
I started working at McKinley’s in London a couple of years ago and when the chance of promotion and foreign travel came up last year, well, I jumped at it! ’
After a while, he glanced at his watch and waved to the café owner for the bill. ‘I wish we could stay longer, but I’m afraid I’ve got a couple of things I need to attend to this evening,’ he explained.
‘Oh, please don’t apologise, it has been so lovely. Thank you for inviting me.’ She smiled at him then finished the rest of her tea.
‘Thank you for coming. An afternoon with a delightful young lady; the pleasure is all mine, I assure you.’
He took one of the pink flowers from the vase on the table and presented it to her with mock formality. ‘A pretty flower for a pretty lady.’ Dorothy grinned and felt a warm glow inside as she took it from him.
‘Gosh, after I made such a fool of myself last night, I’m surprised you even wanted to talk to me again, never mind invite me out for tea and pay me compliments!’
He studied her for a moment and she instantly regretted her candour.
She should try to be more grown-up, more sophisticated, surely that was what a man like Douglas liked.
Casting her mind back to the exquisite hauteur of his former flame, Maria da Costa, Dorothy suddenly felt horribly child-like and gauche.
She felt her colour rising and suddenly wanted to go home.
Douglas seemed to sense her unease and reached across the table.
With his index finger, he slowly traced the outline of her cheek.
‘But you are, you know; very pretty indeed.’ His touch felt like a bolt of electricity and Dorothy felt herself back away.
Awkwardly, she stood up from the table, a nervous smile on her face.
She had no experience of men like Douglas and had felt on much safer ground discussing their favourite authors and movies than with him flirting and flattering her.
They got back to the car and Douglas nodded his thanks to the hawker. He was about to open the door for Dorothy when he looked down and noticed that she was still carrying the flower he had given her.
‘You brought it with you?’ He seemed amused.
‘Oh, Dorothy, you are such a sweet one! I don’t know quite what to do with you.
So young and innocent; so utterly adorable!
’ He bent down and, without warning, brushed his lips against hers.
She closed her eyes, but the kiss was over before she knew it and Douglas was opening the car door for her.
Dorothy got in, pulse racing, desperately wanting more.