different from Singapore. Mostly rainforest – except where it’s been cleared for the plantations and along the coasts. Lots of rivers, not many towns, and lots of
kampongs
.’
‘
Kampongs
?’
‘Native villages.’
‘Yes, of course. I hope they don’t mind us being around.’
‘The Malays are very gentle, peace-loving people. Very friendly.’
‘Well, I expect they know we’re here to defend them. I say, this is a jolly good band, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it’s very good.’
After a bit more dancing, he said, ‘I hope it’s not too much of a cheek but is there any chance of you coming out with me one evening?’
She felt rather sorry for him, so far away from England and Esher. And he was easy to deal with, unlike some men.
‘All right. If you like.’
He beamed at her. ‘That’s most awfully good of you.’
Another man came up and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
‘Excuse me.’
‘Sorry?’
‘This is an excuse-me dance, old boy. If you don’t mind.’
‘Gosh … is it? Sorry, I didn’t realize.’ Roger let go of her reluctantly. ‘See you later, then.’
She foxtrotted away with her new partner.
‘This isn’t an excuse-me at all, Denys, as you very well know.’
‘Desperate measures are required when there are so many of us chaps and so few of you lovely girls.’
She had first met Denys Vaughan at Raffles. She’d been dancing with an RAF pilot when he’d barged in with exactly the same lie. Gingery hair, toothbrush moustache and a lot of nerve. He was an officer in the Straits Settlement Police and one of the hordes of young bachelors who hung about hopefully at dances. At Raffles they congregated in a corridor off the ballroom known as Cads’ Alley, trying to grab a dance partner. He practically lived at Raffles, he’d told her, and had a splendid arrangement with the maître d’hôtel for any food leftovers to be wrapped up and handed discreetly to him at the end of an evening. Otherwise he survived from dinner party to dinner party. He had no private allowance and making ends meet was always a problem. Terrible pay, he complained, and a grim little house in the compound of Divisional Police Headquarters.
She said, ‘I haven’t seen you at a Tanglin dance before. Isn’t Raffles more your stamping ground?’
‘I came with the Governor’s ADC. He’s an old chum of mine from schooldays. There’s a party of us but none of the girls is a patch on you, so as soon as I spotted you here I made a beeline.’
If he had had long moustaches instead of the toothbrush, he would probably have twirled them. ‘Won’t the other girls be offended?’
‘Can’t help that.’
They danced a rhumba after the foxtrot. He danced energetically, regardless of the heat, and with a lot of complicated footwork. There were better dancers but they weren’t as amusing.
Towards the end of the evening everyone joined in a conga, led by the band round and round the ballroom in a long, snaking line, down the stairway, round the swimming pool and back up to the ballroom again for the last dance – ‘Goodnight Ladies’. It was followed by the roll of drums heralding God Save the King, when everybody stood to rigid attention.
Denys reappeared at her side. ‘We’re all going on to Government House. How about coming too?’
‘Government House? Are you serious?’
‘The ADC’s quarters there. I told you, he’s a chum of mine. Free drinks. Free fags. Midnight dip in the pool. Jolly good fun.’
‘What about the Governor?’
‘On an official visit upcountry.’ He winked. ‘The cat’s away, so the mice can play.’
‘I’m supposed to be going home with my parents.’
‘Tell them you’ve been invited to Government House. That’ll do the trick. And I’ll take you home later.’
‘In a rickshaw?’
‘Certainly not. A chap I know has lent me his car while he’s away.’
He went with her to find her parents and gave a faultless performance of a responsible, reliable young
kampongs
.’
‘
Kampongs
?’
‘Native villages.’
‘Yes, of course. I hope they don’t mind us being around.’
‘The Malays are very gentle, peace-loving people. Very friendly.’
‘Well, I expect they know we’re here to defend them. I say, this is a jolly good band, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it’s very good.’
After a bit more dancing, he said, ‘I hope it’s not too much of a cheek but is there any chance of you coming out with me one evening?’
She felt rather sorry for him, so far away from England and Esher. And he was easy to deal with, unlike some men.
‘All right. If you like.’
He beamed at her. ‘That’s most awfully good of you.’
Another man came up and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
‘Excuse me.’
‘Sorry?’
‘This is an excuse-me dance, old boy. If you don’t mind.’
‘Gosh … is it? Sorry, I didn’t realize.’ Roger let go of her reluctantly. ‘See you later, then.’
She foxtrotted away with her new partner.
‘This isn’t an excuse-me at all, Denys, as you very well know.’
‘Desperate measures are required when there are so many of us chaps and so few of you lovely girls.’
She had first met Denys Vaughan at Raffles. She’d been dancing with an RAF pilot when he’d barged in with exactly the same lie. Gingery hair, toothbrush moustache and a lot of nerve. He was an officer in the Straits Settlement Police and one of the hordes of young bachelors who hung about hopefully at dances. At Raffles they congregated in a corridor off the ballroom known as Cads’ Alley, trying to grab a dance partner. He practically lived at Raffles, he’d told her, and had a splendid arrangement with the maître d’hôtel for any food leftovers to be wrapped up and handed discreetly to him at the end of an evening. Otherwise he survived from dinner party to dinner party. He had no private allowance and making ends meet was always a problem. Terrible pay, he complained, and a grim little house in the compound of Divisional Police Headquarters.
She said, ‘I haven’t seen you at a Tanglin dance before. Isn’t Raffles more your stamping ground?’
‘I came with the Governor’s ADC. He’s an old chum of mine from schooldays. There’s a party of us but none of the girls is a patch on you, so as soon as I spotted you here I made a beeline.’
If he had had long moustaches instead of the toothbrush, he would probably have twirled them. ‘Won’t the other girls be offended?’
‘Can’t help that.’
They danced a rhumba after the foxtrot. He danced energetically, regardless of the heat, and with a lot of complicated footwork. There were better dancers but they weren’t as amusing.
Towards the end of the evening everyone joined in a conga, led by the band round and round the ballroom in a long, snaking line, down the stairway, round the swimming pool and back up to the ballroom again for the last dance – ‘Goodnight Ladies’. It was followed by the roll of drums heralding God Save the King, when everybody stood to rigid attention.
Denys reappeared at her side. ‘We’re all going on to Government House. How about coming too?’
‘Government House? Are you serious?’
‘The ADC’s quarters there. I told you, he’s a chum of mine. Free drinks. Free fags. Midnight dip in the pool. Jolly good fun.’
‘What about the Governor?’
‘On an official visit upcountry.’ He winked. ‘The cat’s away, so the mice can play.’
‘I’m supposed to be going home with my parents.’
‘Tell them you’ve been invited to Government House. That’ll do the trick. And I’ll take you home later.’
‘In a rickshaw?’
‘Certainly not. A chap I know has lent me his car while he’s away.’
He went with her to find her parents and gave a faultless performance of a responsible, reliable young
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