The Pearl of Penang Clare Flynn (comprehension books .TXT) 📖

that absolutely clear? You can put anything belonging to Mr Barrington in the room I have been using.’

‘Yes, Mem.’ There was the ghost of a smile playing across the Chinese woman’s face. ‘Velly good.’

As Aunty Mimi left, Evie exhaled slowly, relief flooding through her. She’d had enough of creeping around, afraid of her own shadow. Things were going to be different from now on. Doug’s words had taken her by surprise. She wasn’t ready to forgive him. Not yet. But there was a possibility that eventually she might.

In the meantime, she would be making the rules. The first one was that he return to George Town every single weekend. She intended him to sleep apart from her. It was too soon to contemplate taking him back into her bed. He had first to prove that he was ready to play the part of father to Jasmine, if he was to be permitted to do the same for their child. If he wanted a family, he could damn well act like a husband and father. If he wanted her to believe that he cared about her, he had to show it.

Evie decided to absent herself while Aunty Mimi, aided by The Boy, set about the task of moving the contents of the bedrooms. Telling Benny she would be back in time to accompany him to collect Jasmine from school, Evie set off from the house on foot.

She had always enjoyed her solitary rambles around George Town, loving the hubbub, the mixture of people, the buzz of commerce. After so long resting in bed, confined to the house, it was a relief to be outside. Early that morning it had rained heavily, and the air was clearer, with a light sea breeze tempering the growing heat of the day.

After strolling past the bastion of Fort Cornwallis with its thick brick walls, Evie turned off and plunged into the nearby streets. Eventually finding herself in a square with a collection of stalls and kiosks, her nose and throat were assaulted by an overpowering, sweet smell of incense. Across the square was a small temple, with the characteristic Chinese swooping curved roof, adorned along the ridge with dragon statues. There were shrines and stone statues outside, where people gathered to thrust bunches of smouldering joss sticks into jars filled with sand, before bending or squatting in prayer and devotion. Looking around, she could see no other Europeans, but no one seemed bothered by her presence so she walked freely around the space. There was a covered well, where people were collecting water, and piles of stacked wooden cages each containing a small bird. The square was a peculiar mixture of sincere devotion and casual commerce.

Hesitantly, Evie went up to the entrance of the temple building and was glad to find it quiet and almost empty inside, although the scent of the burning incense was more intense than in the square.

The light was dim, provided only by the faint glow of candles and the daylight from the narrow open doorway she had entered through. She squinted to see. In front of her was a small gold-painted shrine. Evie moved towards it and stood for a while in silence, drinking in the calm and quiet of the place after the chaotic scene outside. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom and she saw the shrine was crowded with a collection of painted figures, the male ones dressed like emperors in ornate robes with long drooping moustaches, one or two goddesses, other figures resembling evil-looking ogres, and among them gold-painted animals such as horned deer or sea creatures. Oranges and other fruits were stacked in neat piles with what she assumed to be votive messages written in Chinese on little cards. The smell of the burning joss sticks was intensified by the perfume from flowers, stacked around the shrine in tall vases. Curved metal lanterns and red streamers hung from the ceiling.

Evie was transfixed by the scene and felt a strange calm enveloping her after all the trauma, fear and bitterness of the past days. Without thinking why, she stood with her head bowed and closed her eyes.

She took stock of her situation, letting her mind run free. She realised that she had only ever seen Douglas with her eyes and not with her mind or her heart. Never managing to get past his dark good looks, hers had been a shallow love – no love at all – based on aesthetic appreciation not true feelings. How could she love someone she couldn’t communicate with? They shared no interests. Had nothing in common. She and Douglas spoke different languages and inhabited different worlds. Perhaps what had happened was a rude awakening, a message that she should give up trying to make their marriage work.

Her feelings were entirely different with Arthur. She was certain that in him she had found – but could never have – her soulmate. No, she mustn’t think about Arthur.

When Evie opened her eyes again there was a diminutive man in grey robes standing in front of her. A monk or priest, she assumed. Mumbling her apologies for intruding in this place of devotion, she was about to leave but he called out to her. His voice was soothing, gentle. He spoke to her in English.

‘No need run away, daughter. Temple of Harmony welcome everyone who show respect. As you have done.’

‘Thank you. I only stepped inside for a few moments but I’m glad I did. It’s so peaceful and calm here. Being here has already made me feel much better.’

He nodded his head slowly. ‘You feel better? Why you feel bad before?’

She looked at his face and saw only kindness in his eyes. But before she could answer, he asked, ‘You want drink some tea?’

Evie nodded.

He led her to a doorway at the side of the shrine. ‘In here quiet place.’

Never thinking to question why she should follow this stranger, she went with him into an ante-room, presumably leading to the monks’ quarters.

They sat