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CHAPTER SIX
Rory Mason opened his eyes. The room was white and clean and smelled of, something or other. Then he realised he was in a hospital. His stomach ached but he felt better. The flight was pretty vague. He remembered being helped on to a little plane, and a bumpy flight, but than blacked out. A vague recollection of a vehicle and people yelling and arguing, then nothing.
The door to his room opened, and a small, very pretty Chinese girl, in a white starched uniform, was standing by his side. She took his hand, and looked at her watch, strapped to her blouse.
'This is nice', he thought.
"Your with us again, Mr. Mason. On the mend.”
"Think so. Nasty accident.”
"Knives are dangerous," she said, then smiled. "Pulse seems normal. You'll survive. Policeman outside for you, and a Mr. Johnstone is flying over from KL. He apparently guaranteed your expenses, otherwise you'd have got a sticking plaster, and shown the door.”
"Oh," he replied, "you seem to know all about me.”
"Your wallet, Mr. Mason. The passport, I believe is outside. Shall I send it in?" That twinkle in her eye. It captivated him.
She left before he could reply, and a few seconds later, the door opened, and in came a middle aged Chinese. He was wearing a uniform. "Mr. Mason? Mr. Rory Mason? “
Rory nodded.
"Inspector Chu. If it wasn't for your injury, you'd probably be in custody. Illegal entry. However us Singaporeans are compassionate people, Mr. Mason. I also spoke to your supervisor. He has convinced me, your arrival out at the other end of our island, near Woodlands, was not for any clandestine reason. Your pilot took off before we got there. However, if it's who I think it is, next time he drops in, we'll chat.”
He dropped the passport onto the bedside table.
"You want to know what happened? I was attacked." Rory felt a little relieved.
The inspector put up his hand. "Not my concern. No doubt the Indonesian police will have an interest. My advice is to have a holiday. The climate in Sumatra is not good at the moment, especially for you, I feel.”
"Thanks. We work a tin mine concession. Young woman sneaked onto the site and attacked me. Got me before I knew what was happening.”
"And the woman?”
"Like you said, it's not really your concern." He paused. "I didn't mean to be blunt. As I went down with blood everywhere, I remember a shot, that's all. There was a bumpy trip and I can recall the plane, and that's about it.”
"Interesting. You have a 3 day visa. No doubt you will be wary of young women. Especially those with a knife. Well business concluded. I hope not to see you again. Goodbye, Mr. Mason." He gave a slight nod of his head, and left.
Rory's wound was covered by a large plaster, so he couldn't see the area. The nurse came in, surprising him. "Checking to see if we cut it off. Doctor tells me it was so small, he had trouble finding it." She laughed, and Rory blushed.
"Thanks a lot," he replied.
"I didn't think you'd take it to heart. Anything you need?”
"A chance to prove the doctor was wrong." He thought all patients were allowed to take liberties. The bed and their condition, protected them somehow. She didn't blink an eye. "Mr. Mason. The good inspector has just warned you about young women. And I could carry a knife. Purely for medicinal purposes.”
He was feeling the tin mine was not his cuppa. "I have three days. We could, that is, you could show me around. Dinner. The least I could do to repay your kindness.”
She went to the door. "Not hospital policy to fraternise with the patients." She shut the door behind her, but immediately opened it, and stuck her head back in. "Tomorrow you won't be a patient. Katts in Orchard Road at 5pm," then was gone.
Next morning, he was given a phone message from Matt, who had rung from Pakanbaru. It was brief, but indicated everything was well at the mine, and they hoped the same with him. Rory was relieved. It meant that what ever had to be done, was. Still he would like to hear the details, but that was something not for a telephone line. Nothing was private in this part of the world.
At lunch time, a doctor came in, and looked under the plaster. It was red, but really not so large a gash. "Lucky man, sir. Avoid a lot of body movement for a week or two. Walking is OK. You can go anytime this afternoon. Just sign out at the front desk. Shirt and slacks should be provided in your locker here. The ones we removed were too bloody to keep. Any questions?”
"No. Thanks for fixing me up. You sound as if you do a lot of these.”
"We have our share. Did a year in South Africa at Baragwarath and another in a Hong Kong trauma unit. So I can tell you all about knife wounds. It does put a coating on you. Underneath, my emotions are like yours. I bleed and I cry. Take care." He left.
Rice for lunch, wasn't so appealing, as it still hurt to eat, so he settled for some chicken soup. During this, Trevor Johnstone arrived. Trevor was the Oceanic man in this part of the world. He operated out of the KL office in Malaysia, and Rory hadn't seen him since he came over and started at the tin dredge. Still he wasn't an ivory tower person. He knew about mining and a host of other things, necessary to survive in Asia. He knew the right people to see and how to keep all the wheels running. Rumour had it, he liked his whisky and his women. And he had started on the ground floor, driving dump trucks, drilling and so on. He got things working. That was why he was in the job.
He shook hands. "They tell me you'll live. They also tell me it's costing Oceanic a fortune to stay here. And now you're going to tell me what the bloody hell happened.”
Rory told him, pulling no punches. "Lucky. Matt Forbes got through to me just before I left. Told me as best he could, that the mining problem had been cleaned up, in fact a couple of problems. I can only guess your woman was not alone. Will be there myself in 2 or 3 days, after I get a replacement
for you. Rang Mr. Darius, in Sydney. Wants you back there.”
Rory raised his eyebrows. "I made a mess of things, I guess.”
"Rubbish," said Johnstone, "things happen. You're a good worker, from the reports, and from my gut feeling. You can't go back for a while, not that you would want to. Indonesian police are sure to be looking for you. Until I talk to Forbes, don't know what the score is.”
Rory was getting a numb bum. He swung out, and stood up. "The Singapore police gave me 3 days to leave.”
"Yes. Spoke to some one yesterday. It was an arrangement agreed upon. Get yourself a flight booked, and here's a hotel, you can stay at. Give Darius a call when you get back.”
"All I can say is thanks." Rory didn't know what else to say.
They shook on it, and Johnstone was gone. Rory got dressed, and went downstairs to the front desk. He signed out, and stepped into the humidity. He had forgotten what it was like. There were no shortage of taxis. He was glad. It had air conditioning. The hotel was only 3 or 4 kilometres away, along Geylong Road, moderate, a little pretentious, but clean looking. As he stepped inside the door, the heavens opened, and sheets of rain fell to wash away the morning residue of living. A sort of barrier between one time period and another. The huge deep drains, coped with the downpour. He wondered if he was deep enough to cope with his life's downpours.
He showered, then found a travel agent in Victoria Street, and wasted nearly half an hour before they confirmed a ticket the day after tomorrow, to Sydney. It wasn't Qantas but he didn't care. As he stood looking in a shop window, he felt his attire would need improving, if he was to meet the nurse. Getting directions for a department store, he picked a silk shirt and reasonable slacks, and just had sufficient time to change at the store then head for the rendezvous.
She wasn't there, so he ordered a Tiger beer, and began to seriously consider, if she would turn up. After all, he wouldn't be the first person to try and pick up a nurse whilst a patient. As he downed the last drop, she was there. He didn't immediately recognise her, for she looked so different out of whites. A subtle pants suit in just the right colour, and a pair of silver
ear pendants, were catching other eyes as well as his.
"Hello. I was hoping you wouldn't stand me up," then cursed himself, for using such a degrading introduction. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. Still a bit under the weather from the wound.”
If she took offence, she didn't show it. Her smile seemed to disarm him. "Why would I? It's not every day one gets to meet a nice Australian, especially if he's also good looking.”
Rory blushed. "I'm not exactly Rudolph Valentino.”
"I don’t want you to be," she replied.
He laughed, and she joined in. Her eyes and facial outline had captivated him. "Drink?" She nodded.
They talked, and he warmed to her company. When he mentally started to compare her to his wife, he closed his mind, and just concentrated on the time and person at hand. That chapter was now gone. Not forgotten, but it was time to move on. Nancy suggested an early dinner, as she had a morning shift tomorrow, and led him to a very homely and small restaurant, a few blocks away. They walked, savouring the sights and sounds of a city, moving from a work mode to a relax mode. It was a pulsating city, and Rory took it all in. After so long in the bush in Sumatra, any place was a change. Not that he didn't appreciate the outdoors, and the quietness. He preferred it, but just now, he craved some people around him. On the Outer Roads, hundreds of lights twinkled, as boats and ships of all sizes, bobbed up and down. Singapore was still the crossroads of Asia. Well one of them. The expectancy was a Chinese establishment, but he was quite pleasantly surprised, when it turned out to be Portuguese cuisine. She ordered for him, but he chose the wine. A Mateus Rose‚ seemed appropriate. Not only did it come from the right place, it was one his wife liked.
"Is there a partner? Someone?" she asked, during the main dish of grilled lamb. "Of course if I'm prying, please forgive. I can talk on the technical aspects of nursing, or patient ratios, if you prefer.”
He placed his hands on her arm. "There's nothing I need to hide. I'd like to talk about you and me. I'm sure we can give work a miss.”
He resumed eating. The wine was chilled just to the right temperature, and was doing it's thing. "My wife was killed some time back. Car accident. No kids, and no current commitments. Been sort of burying myself in the jungle. And you?”
She daintily wiped her mouth. "I'm dedicated to my profession. But my family comes first.”
"You have a family?" he asked.
She smiled. "You misunderstand. Like many Asian cultures, we are very family orientated. The time for a husband will come when the family tells me.”
"I thought a woman like yourself would choose...." He was feeling this could be sticky ground, and so early in a relationship, might be best avoided. That's if there was ever going to be a relationship. He was on a plane in two days!
She foresaw his mind. "I am a person of my own destiny, Mr. Rory Mason. I also have to weigh this with other factors.”
The subject switched to his various jobs, and to the mystification at why someone would want to kill him. She responded openly about herself, in a like fashion, and then announced that they should go.
They walked down via a waterway, and along Beach Road. The lights of tonkangs, boats and the quay side, reflected in the water like an overactive computer screen.
When he took her hand, she did not resist. Any thoughts of taking the night to higher aspirations, however, were dashed when she stopped at a taxi rank, and turning to him, said that the meal and his company had been delightful, but it must end here. There was an early start tomorrow. Rory felt let down, then knew that was egotism. It had been a pleasant evening, and a memory to be savoured. Still all may not be lost. "I have tomorrow. Perhaps you could have an hour or two after work. Show me some of the treasures of your city. Another bottle of Mateus.”
"How do I say no?”
"You don't." His heart was starting to race.
“Say two o'clock, same place.”
He was still holding her hand. When he leaned forward, he kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Thanks for the evening, Mr. Rory Mason." Then she glided into one of the taxis, parked with their door opened, and was gone. He stood a while. 'Beats a gas lamp and whisky' he thought.
Next day he could hardly wait until two. He sauntered along various streets and ate in a large serve yourself. A bit of shopping, and selecting a small, but he hoped, appreciated gift for Nancy, and one for someone he hoped to catch up with in Sydney. He could have emptied his wallet at the various stalls along Koek Road, but decided he didn't really need anything.
The beer was quenching, and like yesterday, she was there as he finished it.
"My wardrobe is a little limited," he embarrassingly said, but she just smiled and said "Never judge a book by it's cover.”
'Now that's an answer that has promise' he thought. "Where to?”
"Culture, Mr. Rory Mason. I hope there's no holes in those socks.”
They caught a taxi, and headed to Upper Serangoon Road in the north of the city, stopping outside a large building, very ornate and painted in red and black. There were some tourist buses and a smell he was used to. Incense.
The inside of the temple was dark, but noisy. She showed him various items, and he even took a fortune cookie. When she offered to translate the kanji, he pocketed it, and said it related to a woman and was personal. She didn't say any more, but was obviously trying to decide if he could read it. Rory actually didn't have a clue. It was a game, but it lent a measure of his
being a little in charge, on a day in which she would be pulling the strings.
From there, she took him across the island to Jurong Bird Park, then back into the city as darkness descended. They wandered around, hand in hand. The street market in Change Alley offered all sorts of foods to tempt the pallet, but she steered him clear. At Clifford Pier, she turned into a small eatery, definitely not on the tourist list. It was mostly locals, many in working gear, and the food, predominantly fish, was delicious. The local wine was rough, but the evening was too short to spoil. He gave her the gift he had bought earlier in the day, a small silver brooch in the shape of a bird. She appeared surprised, and leaned forward and kissed him, on the lips.
Then it was time to go. At Robinson Road, she stopped at a taxi rank, and put her hand on his shoulders. "I've enjoyed being with you, Mr. Rory Mason. Time to say goodbye.”
"Surely not so early. A drink or could I accompany you home?" He was a little disappointed. "I know you would like to not end our day, but some things are better that way. As much as I would want to have you at my side,
when I wake in the morning, it is not possible.”
He went to protest, but she placed a finger on his lips. He took her, and kissed. She responded, then pulled away and walked to a waiting taxi. He didn't stop her. She popped her head out the window, as the driver went to move out. "I know the doctor was wrong. Take care." Then she was gone.
He walked all the way home. It was his release.
Next morning, he had a little time before the flight, so he headed for Orchard Road to have a drink at the Raffles. Everyone who comes to Singapore, wants to have a drink there. He was a little disappointed. The old place of Sir Stamford Raffle's time had been upgraded. Some older parts still remained, and he had to jostle for a seat with loads of tourists, even at this early hour.
Three hours later he was winging his way south, across Indonesia, towards a very wide brown land.