House of Trembling Leaves, The by Julian Lees Read Free Book Online Page A

stretched her arms. ‘‘ Aiyoo! Stop worrying, lah. What you think, he going to follow us? Cut out throats in our sleep? Silly, lah.’’
    â€˜â€˜Mr Quek developed these photographs, right? Did you talk to him about us? Did you tell him we were going abroad?’’
    Sum Sum looked affronted. ‘‘Of course not. I’m not stupid.’’
    â€˜â€˜Quek works for the Woos. Has done for years. I bet you when he saw this picture he went and told mole-face about it straight away.’’
    â€˜â€˜But why would mole-face blow up dam?’’
    â€˜â€˜I don’t know.’’
    â€˜â€˜You really think he maybe come after us?’’
    â€˜â€˜The people he is involved with go to any lengths to achieve their aims. If you have any evidence that might convict him of the dam sabotage he’ll find you and kill you.’’
    â€˜â€˜Next you going to tell me he is already here, on this ship.’’
    â€˜â€˜Perhaps he is. If Uncle Big Jowl found us then he could too.’’ The girls felt their mouths go dry as they stared at one another.
    Sum Sum got to her feet to lock the cabin door. ‘‘Should we tell anyone?’’
    â€˜â€˜Who are we going to tell? And what are we going to say? That there might be a saboteur on board? A man who killed over thirty people and almost destroyed an entire village? Someone who might be planning to kill us because you took his photo? Lord, we’d start a panic and before you know it we’d be on the first boat home. No, I think we should just stick close to our new policeman friends Mr Farrell and Mr Aziz.’’
    Sum Sum groaned. ‘‘ Aiyo , not smelly boiled-prawns-man.’’
    â€˜â€˜Yes, smelly-boiled-prawns man.’’
    â€˜â€˜You only doing this to torture me, I know you, lah.’’
    Â 
    â€˜â€˜Well now,’’ said Stan Farrell at Friday tiffin, ‘‘let’s see what’s on the menu.’’ He peered at the carte du jour. Owing to Aziz’s ethnicity they were in the salon rather than the main restaurant, seated at a table for four. A string quartet played in the corner as potted palms swayed in the sea breeze. The other diners were mostly English, colonial civil servants in pale linen suits, holding up their newspapers, smoking their pipes and sipping their whisky stengahs – all very white and restrained.
    â€˜â€˜Isn’t it odd for a sahib to mix so freely with his orderly and two Chinese women, Mr Farrell?’’ asked Lu See. ‘‘Aren’t you concerned how others might view you?’’
    â€˜â€˜Well, as you said earlier, Miss Apricot, I’m a very odd man. I actually like mixing with Chinese.’’
    Lu See smiled at him. ‘‘Have you, by any chance, come across any other Chinese passengers on board?’’ she probed.
    â€˜â€˜Any with mole on face?’’ Sum Sum added, pressing.
    â€˜â€˜A mole?’’
    â€˜â€˜Yes, lah, mole.’’ She prodded her left cheek with an index finger.
    â€˜â€˜Why?’’
    â€˜â€˜Oh, it’s nothing,’’ said Lu See with an embarrassed flourish of her hand.
    Stan returned to the menu and a deep line appeared between his eyebrows. He clearly had no idea what they were on about. ‘‘So then, Sum Sum,’’ he asked, ‘‘how hot do you take your curries?’’
    Sum Sum beamed. ‘‘Volcano hot!’’
    â€˜â€˜Glad to hear it. Let’s get four portions of basmati rice, some mutton randang to share, chicken Madras, Bengali potatoes, and poppadum with lime chutney. Sound good to you?’’
    â€˜â€˜Sound tip-top to me, lah.’’
    When the condiments arrived in a lazy Susan, Lu See noticed how distracted Sum Sum appeared. Her friend seemed transfixed by Aziz, staring quite unabashedly at the delicate way he