The Rose of Singapore by Peter Neville Read Free Book Online

mischievously.
    â€œGood Lord, no!” exclaimed Peter. “Well, maybe just to look at them.” Then he said, “You’re the first Chinese girl I’ve spoken to here on the beach.”
    â€œYou are not married. You are too young to be married,” she said. They were statements, not questions.
    â€œI’m not too young,” said Peter. “But, no, I’m not married,” and he wondered why she was so curious.
    Accompanied by Jimmy and Taff, her girlfriends had moved a hundred yards or more down the beach. Peter could hear them shouting and laughing, and he watched them for moments as they frolicked together in the shallows. He was glad that he was alone with Lai Ming. Fascinated, he studied her. She had such a beautiful face, even though, as she gazed out to sea she looked so sad. With her jet black hair falling down around bare shoulders, he saw her as a cuddlesome doll and was daring himself just to touch that creamy, porcelain-like skin. He wanted to hold her to him and to kiss that exquisite little mouth, but instead he did nothing except sit and study her, and wait until she spoke again.
    Eventually, when she did speak, she caught him by surprise. Turning her face to him, she said, “I was once married. I was very young. I was only sixteen. I was married to a good man, a kind and devoted husband.”
    â€œWhat happened to him?” asked Peter.
    He detected tears forming in Lai Ming’s eyes, but for the moment she controlled them. A tremor, though, entered her voice when she said, “He is dead. He died in an accident.”
    â€œOh. I’m sorry,” said Peter.
    â€œIt seems such a long time ago, but many times I still think of him,” she said. Now, without a doubt, he could see tears in her eyes, tears that were about to run down her cheeks.
    â€œPerhaps it’s best you don’t talk about it,” suggested Peter, feeling uneasy at seeing her looking so sad.
    She smiled through her tears at him. “You are a good boy,” she said. But she wondered, why am I thinking of my husband when with this boy, this complete stranger?
    After a pause of several seconds, deep in thought, and looking far out across the water, Lai Ming quietly said, “I want to tell you.”
    Thus, that day, while sitting with Lai Ming on the sands of Changi Beach, Peter listened and learned much of her past. Spellbound by her soft, lyrical voice, he did not interrupt her.
    She was born in Palembang, on the island of Sumatra in Indonesia, she said, to Chinese parents who were murdered by the invading Japanese when she was in her early teens. She herself was rescued by a young Chinese ship’s engineer who sneaked her aboard his ship, an old tramp steamer bound for Singapore. On the ship’s arrival in Singapore, he asked her if she would marry him. She had said ‘yes’ not only because she had no one else in the world to turn to, but because she found in him so many good qualities and was attracted to him. Shortly afterwards, they were married. He looked after her well, providing her with all she needed, even sending her to a good school in Singapore where she learned to speak English. To her, her husband was the best man in the world. Together, they were both blissfully happy, and even happier when she bore him a son. Somehow they managed to survive the cruel Japanese occupation of Singapore and it was not too long before the British returned and peace came once again to the island. Three years ago her husband was returning from Brunei on the same ship in which he had brought her to Singapore. It was to be the ship’s last voyage and was being delivered to a ship-breaker’s yard. The ship never arrived at its destination. When miles out at sea a boiler in the engine room exploded killing her husband and the crew working in the engine room. The ship sank in deep water. Only three deck hands and the cook survived to tell what happened to their