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
W hen 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
“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
W hen 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
Similar Books
