‘Of course ... ’

‘And work tapping,’ Ch’ing added. ‘Please.’

The politeness of the woman so fallen in her fortunes tore Blanche’s heart. ‘Whatever you want.’

‘We can both tap.’ Lee linked arms with her mother. ‘This is freedom for us here at Rinsey — to earn dollars! Wow!’ Lee raised her eyes to the sky at the thought, then, seeing Blanche still looking doubtful, she added, ‘We need time to open wings gradually — perhaps fly later.’

‘And we have a lot of shopping to do,’ Liz reminded her.

‘But first sleep to catch up,’ Blanche said. ‘Now the tension is over, I’m totally exhausted.’

‘G and T in bed?’ Liz asked. The offer seemed to tie another thread.

‘Darling, when everyone’s settled, marvellous!’

Later that night, Liz came and sat on Blanche’s bed. ‘Like old times,’ she began, then shook her head. ‘No, not really. Everything’s changed, hasn’t it? You do like Alan?’

‘I do,’ her mother answered honestly. ‘I think he has the right kind of practicality you need.’

‘Really?’ Liz was totally surprised. ‘I never thought of him in that way.’

‘Of course not, you’re largely impractical,’ Blanche said with a smile lest her daughter should take it as criticism.

‘You can always surprise me, Mother.’

Blanche laughed and held out her arms. Liz hugged and held her tight, closing her eyes.

‘Alan is being sent to the rest camp on Penang island,’ Liz said as they released each other. ‘I thought I might go up to stay in George Town so we could see something of each other.’ She drew in her breath slowly through her mouth, preparing for a sigh, then added, ‘He may be sent back to England quite soon.’

‘His health is not in question, is it?’ Blanche asked, anxious there should be no more heartache.

‘The scar is very sensitive still. John Sturgess thinks he might be sent home with an earlier demob number than his own.’

‘Then you must spend as much time as you can together,’ Blanche said. ‘You have a lot to decide.’

Liz nodded soberly.

Once Blanche was alone, her thoughts moved from her daughter’s future to wondering if George yet knew his prospects had so radically altered. Robbo had promised to consult his colonel, Edwin Neillands, as soon as he was back at base. He and Inspector Aba had promised everything would be done to speed George’s release. But what about his job? And where would he live? She’d fit him in at Rinsey, however many seams she bulged was the decision which stilled the questions and allowed her to fall into sleep.

The next morning Anna took a call while Blanche was supervising the improving of the quarters for Ch’ing and Lee. She came running out to them. ‘Major Sturgess, he say Mr George Harfield to be released at two o’clock. Can you pick up?’

Blanche felt the colour rising in her cheeks and in the instant of relief at the news she realised she hadn’t blushed for years — couldn’t remember the last time.

‘Mother?’ Liz queried. ‘You knew he would be released.’

‘Yes ... it was just unexpected at that moment.’ She put down the brush she had been using. ‘I’ll probably leave you to organise the evening meal with Anna — for all of us. That OK?’

She turned away and left them, aware of the silence behind her. Not until she reached her room did she remember that they had been in the middle of a discussion about bedroom furnishings to be taken from the bungalow for Ch’ing and Lee. She grimaced at the realisation but hurried to pull a favourite green cotton dress from her wardrobe. She was behaving like a love-lorn creature. No! She stopped in the act of opening her underwear drawer. No, she was behaving exactly like her daughter — rushing off after her man.

She chose her fresh clothes feeling as if a mature woman was critically observing a young one as she flew about changing. Before she was quite ready, she broke off to go and find Chemor and tell him the news, and ask him once again to be her driver. She came back glowing. Chemor had wrung her hand heartily and imparted the information that it had been George who had taught him to drive.

She had not brushed her hair so vigorously since she was a teenager, thinking it added the imperative shine to make her a social success. Then, dissatisfied with her appearance, she rushed back to her wardrobe, held a pink check dress up over the green, discarded it and just left, regardless of time.

Inevitably, they were outside the prison early, and it was only as they arrived that she realised it was also one of the times visitors were allowed in. She recognised several of the people who had become familiar to her over the many visits she had made. They looked at her curiously when instead of joining the queue she went to stand on the far side of the prison gates.

Eventually a clock chimed two and a wicket gate set in the larger gates opened. She immediately saw George, carrying his small case, turning to shake hands with the warder who had unlocked the gate. Her heart went out to him; she felt both rejoicing and sorrow. ‘Through the mill’ were the words that came to her mind as he stepped over the prison portals into the public gaze.

His head went up and his lips parted in a smile as he saw her. She ran to him, caught his arm and kissed his cheek. There were ‘Aah!’s of approval, nods and smiles from the many waiting women.

‘So we’re lucky,’ she said. ‘I might have still been queuing on that side.’

‘I never thought — ’ He paused and frowned. ‘I never thought of you out here, waiting with everyone else. Do you know what I feel like? I feel like having what my mother would have called “a good blart”.’

‘You haven’t time.’ She nodded ahead to where Chemor stood beside the car, his grin so wide it looked impossible he should get all those teeth back behind his lips. ‘But you do feel all right?’

‘Better by the minute.’ He gave her waist a quick squeeze before they reached Chemor.

George greeted his tracker with a hug, a handshake and a thump on the shoulder. There were tears in the Dyak’s eyes. ‘I glad see you, boss. Need you ... ’ Words escaped him. ‘ ... all place.’

‘Looks like I may be a bit of a wanderer, anyway,’ he said, holding tight to Blanche’s hand. ‘Where do we go from here?’

‘There’s always room at Rinsey,’ she told him, though the query in his voice reminded her of Ira Cook’s message. ‘Bukit Kinta is also available. Ira’s been summoned to a meeting in Singapore. He rang specially to say to regard the bungalow as your home as always.’

George opted to go first to have a look at the mine. He was quiet as they drove. Leaning far back in the seat, he stared out at the countryside, but he was holding Blanche’s hand tight. She accepted his need for silence.

‘Not sure,’ he began, as Chemor swept the car triumphantly on to the track to the mine, ‘I’ll ever feel quite the same about this place. Well, of course, it isn’t my place to feel anything about, really … ’

‘Ira could opt for the New York office again, given a chance. And surely now you’ve been exonerated ... ?’

Any further speculation was cut short as Chemor blasted on the car horn: three short bursts, three long, three short. He drew the car to a rapid halt in a miniature dust storm before the bungalow, turned triumphantly and announced, ‘V sign, boss,’ and repeated the performance on the horn.

Blanche took one look at George’s face and burst into laughter. ‘What a discreet arrival!’

There had been speculation among the staff about their former boss’s return. The hooter blast swept away all doubts and as George stepped out of the vehicle he was immediately cheered by several of his workers. A cry went up and in less than a minute people were flocking from all directions to greet him, the men wanting to shake his hand or pat his back, the women and children beaming, clapping and calling, ‘Welcome home! Welcome home, Mr Harfield, sir. Tuan! Tuan!’