The Empire Trilogy Part 47

None of Matthew's listeners seemed, as it happened, to be on the point of putting that or any other question to him. Monty, breathing heavily through his mouth, seemed completely occupied in masticating fish and chips. Joan and Ehrendorf simply stared at Matthew, looking tense and dazed; Joan had not touched her knife and fork but now picked up a single chip in her fingers and snipped off the end with her perfect teeth, without taking her eyes from Matthew's face.

'The fact is that in most tropical colonies the only work available is agriculture, and sometimes a bit of mining. What we really want is cheap unskilled labour. What skilled jobs there are in a country like Malaya don't go, it appears, to Malays, but to Eurasians, Chinese or sometimes Europeans. No cheap unskilled labour is what western capital came here for and that's what it gets ...!'

'But ...' began Monty. He was silenced immediately, however, by his own right hand which, spotting its opportunity, had raised another forkful of fish and chips and now crammed it into his mouth as soon as it opened to speak.

'As I expect you all know there was talk of starting an engineering school a couple of years ago at Raffles College here in Singapore. What happened? A commision reported that it was pointless because there'd be no jobs for the graduates. So you see the idea that we British are educating our colonies in our own image simply won't wash. That may be what we'd like to do, and certain attempts have been made no doubt, but that's not what is actually happening.'

'Oh, look here,' said Ehrendorf mildly, but to Joan not to Matthew. 'This is a bit ridiculous.' Joan, her eyes still on Matthew snipped off another inch of the chip she held neatly between finger and thumb, but otherwise ignored him.

Matthew went on: 'And yet there still persists this sad belief that a man can better himself by education. At this very very moment here in Singapore, according to the official figures, there are more than ten thousand clerks, most of whom live in the most dreadful conditions earning ten dollars a month if they're lucky, not even a living wage, simply because their numbers far exceed any possible demand for them. Ten thousand clerks for a city of this size! It seems it's a regular practice for older clerks to be replaced by younger men at lower salaries and yet that doesn't stop the schools turning out another seven hundred boys every year with qualifications for clerical jobs. And all because of this pathetic, unfounded belief that education leads to lucrative jobs!' moment here in Singapore, according to the official figures, there are more than ten thousand clerks, most of whom live in the most dreadful conditions earning ten dollars a month if they're lucky, not even a living wage, simply because their numbers far exceed any possible demand for them. Ten thousand clerks for a city of this size! It seems it's a regular practice for older clerks to be replaced by younger men at lower salaries and yet that doesn't stop the schools turning out another seven hundred boys every year with qualifications for clerical jobs. And all because of this pathetic, unfounded belief that education leads to lucrative jobs!'

'Really, you can't expect me to put up with this,' said Ehrendorf suddenly.

'Well, clear off then! n.o.body invited you, anyway.'

'As it happens, Matthew did.'

'Frankly,' said Monty, pushing away his empty plate and selecting a toothpick, 'I don't think it matters a b.u.g.g.e.r whether they work as coolies or anything else so long as they have jobs. That's precisely what they don't have in South China and India. They come here because they think it's better, and they're d.a.m.n right. It is.'

'I thought you said you were going. If so, what're you waiting for?'

'That's just what you'd like, isn't it?'

'Monty, surely we have a responsibility responsibility,' went on Matthew doggedly, 'to the people living here when we arrived; even more so to those we encouraged to come and work on the estates. One of the most astounding things about our Empire, when you come to think about it, is the way we've transported vast populations across the globe as cheap labour. Surely we must have their interests at heart, at least to some extent, as well as our own. Otherwise it's not much better than the slave trade.'

'We do have their interests at heart: we're giving them employment which they didn't have where they came from. Besides, almost half our rubber in Malaya is produced by Asiatic smallholders, people who probably came here originally as coolies and then set up in business for themselves. They produce pretty p.i.s.s-awful rubber but that's their business.'

'Let's go and dance,' said Joan. 'Monty, pay the bill and let's go.'

Monty summoned the waiter and produced a roll of blue dollar bills, saying: 'Without British capital there wouldn't have been any rubber business.'

'But don't you think, given the huge returns on money invested in Malaya that something more should be done for the people who actually do the work on the plantations to produce it ...? Otherwise, the British Empire is nothing more than a vast business concern ...' But Matthew's last words, though intended for his companions, had been transformed into a soliloquy by their sudden departure, Joan in the lead, Ehrendorf striving to walk beside her and speak to her, and the burly figure of Monty not far behind. Matthew hurried after them, nudging his gla.s.ses up on his nose.

As they approached The Great World's dance-hall the atmosphere seemed to thicken, as if the very dust which hung in the air was quivering with the percussion of drums and wailing of saxophones. Monty dropped back for a moment, indicating that he had something he wanted to say to Matthew. No, it wasn't about the colonial question, he muttered confidentially, it was more of a proposition he wanted to make. He'd thought it over quite a bit and consulted his two chums who were also very, very interested (that went without saying, actually, because in its way this was a bargain such as one didn't often come across and so of course of course they would be interested) and, well, the upshot of it was that he and his two chums had decided unanimously to invite Matthew to join them in ... the point being that he was a chap from the same sort of background as they were, a factor one had to bear in mind in a place like Singapore where gossip got around in no time ... anyway, in short, they'd decided that Matthew should be given the opportunity of making up the fourth ... No, nothing like that, he hated all card-games himself, couldn't abide them, in fact, well ... in a nutsh.e.l.l, instead of risking heaven knows they would be interested) and, well, the upshot of it was that he and his two chums had decided unanimously to invite Matthew to join them in ... the point being that he was a chap from the same sort of background as they were, a factor one had to bear in mind in a place like Singapore where gossip got around in no time ... anyway, in short, they'd decided that Matthew should be given the opportunity of making up the fourth ... No, nothing like that, he hated all card-games himself, couldn't abide them, in fact, well ... in a nutsh.e.l.l, instead of risking heaven knows what what dreadful diseases with the sort of women one was likely to pick up here at The World or anywhere else in Singapore he and his chums had decided to club together and they'd found a very nice Chinese girl called Sally who had her own flat in Bukit Timah. She was clean and not the kind who'd get drunk or make a fuss. She was ... dreadful diseases with the sort of women one was likely to pick up here at The World or anywhere else in Singapore he and his chums had decided to club together and they'd found a very nice Chinese girl called Sally who had her own flat in Bukit Timah. She was clean and not the kind who'd get drunk or make a fuss. She was ...

'Oh, but really, Monty...'

'No, just listen a moment. You aren't a bad sort of bloke, Matthew, in your way (in fact, I quite like you), but you're the sort of chap who rejects things out of hand without even listening and weighing up the pros and cons. And this is just the kind of arrangement that would suit a bloke like you who isn't very good at getting women, if you don't mind me saying so, and besides, it's not expensive ... it's not expensive ...'

'Monty, I can a.s.sure you ...'

They had now joined Joan and Ehrendorf in the queue of people, many of whom were in uniform, waiting for admission to the dance-hall. Monty lowered his voice a little so that his sister should not hear what he was saying. She was clean, she had imagination (which was something one didn't often find), she was good-tempered and sober, she was not narrow-minded in her approach (in fact, you could do almost anything you liked) and it would only come to $17.50 a month per person. It was such a bargain that Matthew probably thought he meant American American dollars, but not a bit of it! He meant Straits dollars. It was an incredible opportunity! For $17.50 Matthew would have, at least to begin with, one evening a week dollars, but not a bit of it! He meant Straits dollars. It was an incredible opportunity! For $17.50 Matthew would have, at least to begin with, one evening a week guaranteed guaranteed and the possibility of another, if one of his three partners did not exercise his option for two evenings in that particular week, as would most likely very often happen because of some social occasion they couldn't get out of, OK? Because Matthew was the last to join it was only fair, after all, that the others should have first choice but he, Monty, for one would be most surprised if it did not work out that Matthew found he had two evenings on most weeks ...' and the possibility of another, if one of his three partners did not exercise his option for two evenings in that particular week, as would most likely very often happen because of some social occasion they couldn't get out of, OK? Because Matthew was the last to join it was only fair, after all, that the others should have first choice but he, Monty, for one would be most surprised if it did not work out that Matthew found he had two evenings on most weeks ...'

'Hey, Yank! Why don't you join in the b.l.o.o.d.y war then?' demanded a perspiring, drunken Tommy, waving a beer bottle at Ehrendorf.

'Because we don't want to make it too easy for you guys,' replied Ehrendorf cheerfully.

'Give us some gum, chum!' shouted someone else and there was a cackle of laughter.

'Because you're a lot o' p.i.s.sin', cowards, that's what!' shouted the first man belligerently.

'Who needs the bleedin' Yanks anyway? Old Adolf would only give 'm a spankin'!'

Raucous cheers greeted this remark but Ehrendorf, still smiling good-humouredly, had reached the bamboo cage and handed over fifty cents for himself and each of his companions. Then he waved to the boisterous crowd in khaki behind him and vanished into the throbbing darkness followed by a medley of cheers, insults and ribaldry.

'Yankee ponce!'

'They 'ave 'em 'orizontal wi' teeth in 'em 'ere, sir!'

'Can I do yer now, sir?'

Blundering after his friend, Matthew presently found himself at the edge of a dance-floor, covered but open at the sides for ventilation, gleaming with French chalk in the semi-darkness like a subterranean lake. So this was the famous dance-floor taken from the old Hotel de l'Europe which, Joan was now whispering huskily into his ear, at the turn of the century had been the finest in Singapore. No doubt his father, together with the wealthy and influential in the Colony, in his day had waltzed or fox-trotted on those very boards! But now the beau monde beau monde had been replaced by that bewildering array of races and types he had noticed earlier in the evening in the open air, even two members of the family of pygmies could be seen executing a perfect tango close at hand. Matthew gazed enchanted at the teeming dance-floor. Abruptly, he realized why this sight gave him such pleasure. He tried to explain to Monty who had taken Joan's place at his side: had been replaced by that bewildering array of races and types he had noticed earlier in the evening in the open air, even two members of the family of pygmies could be seen executing a perfect tango close at hand. Matthew gazed enchanted at the teeming dance-floor. Abruptly, he realized why this sight gave him such pleasure. He tried to explain to Monty who had taken Joan's place at his side: this was the way Geneva should have been this was the way Geneva should have been! Instead of that grim segregation by nationality they should have all spent their evenings like this, dancing the tango or the quick-step or the ronggeng ronggeng or whatever it was with each other: Italians with Abyssinians, British with j.a.panese, Germans with Frenchmen and so on. If there had been a real feeling of brotherhood in Geneva such as there was here (the Palais des Nations turned into a or whatever it was with each other: Italians with Abyssinians, British with j.a.panese, Germans with Frenchmen and so on. If there had been a real feeling of brotherhood in Geneva such as there was here (the Palais des Nations turned into a palais de danse palais de danse) the Disarmament Conference would not have got stuck in the mud the way it did! 'It was the feeling, perhaps even the confidence confidence that men of different nations and races could get on together that was so tragically missing. And yet here is the evidence! Men are brothers!' that men of different nations and races could get on together that was so tragically missing. And yet here is the evidence! Men are brothers!'

'Yes, er, I see what you mean,' mumbled Monty cautiously, 'but about that other matter we were discussing. I mean, well, you think it over. There's no need to make a snap decision, Matthew. On the other hand we do know plenty of blokes who would jump at the chance if we offered it to them, so you can't keep us waiting indefinitely.'

'But I'm not keeping you waiting, Monty. I've told you, I'm not...'

'No, well, you think it over,' muttered Monty hastily. 'No need to make a snap decision.' And he started to explain to the rather bewildered Matthew how to set about dancing with a taxi-dancer. You first of all had to buy a book of four twenty-five-cent dance tickets from the bloke over there. Then when music started you made a dash for the one you liked the look of. But you had to make it snappy or someone else would grab her. At the end of the dance she took you back to her table and you handed over a ticket. You weren't allowed to sit with them unless you paid a special fifteen-dollar fee for taking them away from the taxi tables.

'Thanks Monty, but I think I just want to watch.'

'You would!' murmured Monty inaudibly.

Meanwhile, however, the tango had turned into an exhibition by a Filipino couple who were chased somewhat haphazardly round the floor by a white spotlight; the man was a foxy-looking individual in a white suit, the woman, a sinuous person in sequins with flashing eyes and raven tresses. The music changed tempo and they began jitterbugging violently, shoes flashing. The grinning members of the band were also from the Philippines; clad in dazzling white blazers and orange trousers they formed a shallow bank against the far wall, harmonizing satisfactorily with the lurid, unlikely birds which had been painted on it. Overhead, painted on the ceiling, Matthew could just make out the shape of a gigantic golden dragon whose bulging eyes, faceted with mirrors, showered reflected sparks like confetti on the swaying dancers below. Now the spotlight, outguessed by the movement of the dancers, strayed for a moment to the edge of the floor and hesitated there by coincidence on Joan and Ehrendorf. He was talking intensely into her ear while she stared unseeing at the polished floor, tapping her foot moodily to the beat of the music. He looked up for a moment, dazzled and bewildered; Joan shook her head, tossing her hair. The spotlight moved jerkily away in pursuit of its quarry.

Saddened by the look of desperation on his friend's face, Matthew shifted his attention to the taxi-girls sitting at tables beside the floor, wondering whether the girl whose breast he had found himself clasping earlier in the evening might not be among them: these girls, too, appeared to be Chinese or Eurasian for the most part, with a few Malays, Siamese and Indo-Chinese; undoubtedly, thought Matthew, these women from further up the peninsula towards China were the loveliest and most graceful of all with their glistening black eyes and delicate features: beside them even the delicate Joan looked clumsy, heavy and rough-skinned. Ehrendorf, however, did not seem to think so for he had taken Joan by the wrist and was trying to persuade her to join him on the floor which, temporarily deserted, now began to fill up. The band set to work on another tune. Men of all descriptions, from dimunitive Chinese clerks to enormous tipsy Australians, swarmed across the floor to secure the services of the taxi-girls. Ehrendorf tried to lead Joan on to the dance-floor but she resisted, s.n.a.t.c.hing her hand away from him. Ehrendorf then seemed to give up hope all of a sudden: his chest deflated, his shoulders drooped, he pa.s.sed a hand over his forehead as if dazed.

'Well, have you thought it over about that nifty Chinese girl I was telling you about?'

'Monty, I told you before: it's not my line.'

Monty looked taken aback: 'There's no need to decide right away, old boy. I don't want to rush you. And look here, if you have only one evening a week we could probably fix it so you don't have to pay quite so much. After all, that's only fair, isn't it? How about fifteen dollars a month? It's really worth it, you know. G.o.d, boy, she goes at it hammer and tongs, I can tell you!'

'It's not the price, for heaven's sake. It's the idea of it.'

Monty stared at Matthew, baffled. It had not occurred to him that Matthew would drive such a hard bargain. Or could there perhaps be some other explanation? And then an idea struck him.

'If you think you'll get it from her,' he said warningly, indicating his sister who was standing a few paces away, 'I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree. I know lots of blokes who've been out with her and she doesn't.'

'Doesn't what?' asked Matthew. And then added hurriedly: 'Oh, sorry, I see what you mean ...'

But Monty, nevertheless, uttered the heavy sigh of someone whose patience has been tried beyond endurance. 'She doesn't,' he repeated. And then, just to rub it in: 'Not even occasionally occasionally!'

24.

Matthew's head was reeling as he and Monty and Joan pa.s.sed out of The Great World and into Kim Seng Road; for a moment he felt quite giddy and had to steady himself with a hand on the wall. Ehrendorf, shattered, had left half an hour earlier by himself; before leaving he had said to Joan: 'We must have a serious talk. I'll look in this evening if you're not back too late.' Joan had replied that he could do what he liked. She was accustomed to young men wanting to have serious talks with her. After a moment Matthew felt well enough to remove his hand from the wall and proceed: it was doubtless the effect of the unaccustomed heat and the crowds which had caused that moment of dizziness. Outside the gate there were fewer people to be seen; the stars shone brilliantly and the night seemed less oppressive.

They had only taken a few steps in the direction of River Valley Road when Joan said grimly: 'I'm going home. I've had enough for one evening.'

'But it's not even ten o'clock yet!' protested Monty indignantly. 'We can't turn in at this hour, particularly now we've got rid of Romeo. Besides, we're supposed to be showing Matthew the town.'

Matthew announced that he, too, felt he had seen enough for one evening. His spell of giddiness a few moments earlier had left him with a feeling that everything he had witnessed was utterly unreal. But Monty would not hear of another defection. He said to Joan: 'Why don't you take the Pontiac if you aren't going to come with us? We'll take a taxi.'

Presently, Matthew found himself in a taxi with Monty and heading, not for Raffles Hotel which Monty said would be full of stuffed shirts and only open till midnight anyway, but for some more interesting destination which Monty knew of. The taxi was a little yellow Ford 8 with springs that chimed and wheezed at every b.u.mp in the road. At the end of Grange Road they came into Orchard Road again, then into Bras Basah Road. Now they were drawing near the sea and a great white building loomed up on the left: Raffles Hotel, Monty said. As they pa.s.sed the brilliantly lit entrance on the landward side Matthew glimpsed an elderly couple leaving, the man in a black dinner-jacket, the woman in a long glittering evening-dress and stole. Monty chuckled at the crowd of natives who had gathered on Beach Road to watch the Europeans dining on the lawn beneath the tall pencil palms. 'That's the nightly show for the Asiatics. They think white women are wh.o.r.es the way they wear backless evening gowns. They come here every evening and lick their lips.'

At Monty's direction the taxi turned away from Raffles Hotel along the sea-front. On the right now was the starlit expanse of the padang padang and beyond it, just visible against the sky, the dignified silhouette of the former Grand Hotel de l'Europe, the benefits of whose dance-floor Matthew had longed in retrospect to transfer to Geneva. The driver evidently knew what was expected of him without having to be told, for their progress had slowed to a crawl and he had half turned in his seat awaiting further instructions. Monty was peering intently at the shadowy figures of women sitting in rickshaws or standing idly in groups of two or three beneath the trees which lined the road. 'Stop!' he said, and the taxi drew in to the kerb. and beyond it, just visible against the sky, the dignified silhouette of the former Grand Hotel de l'Europe, the benefits of whose dance-floor Matthew had longed in retrospect to transfer to Geneva. The driver evidently knew what was expected of him without having to be told, for their progress had slowed to a crawl and he had half turned in his seat awaiting further instructions. Monty was peering intently at the shadowy figures of women sitting in rickshaws or standing idly in groups of two or three beneath the trees which lined the road. 'Stop!' he said, and the taxi drew in to the kerb.

Hardly had they come to a halt when there was a great stirring in the darkness; from what had seemed to be empty rickshaws shadowy figures emerged. Further shapes could be seen shifting in the obscurity beneath the trees; beyond, anch.o.r.ed at sea in the inner roads, were a great number of ships of which only the lights were visible. In a moment, to Matthew's surprise, the open windows of the taxi were entirely filled with women's faces, piled one on top of another like coconuts; shortly the windscreen, too, was blocked by the faces of yet more women leaning over the bonnet. A soft murmur filled the air from which an occasional word in English detached itself: 'OK John!' ... 'Nice!' ... 'Back all same flont!' 'Whisky soda!'

Meanwhile, the driver, an elderly Malay with a brown face and the white hair of a grandfather, had groped for an electric torch and shone its beam on one window after the other.

'Can these be real women?' wondered Matthew as the beam wandered unsteadily over the serried painted masks. Yet on many of these masks the wrinkles stood out despite the paint and powder; the angled light etched them all the more harshly, replacing sunken eyes with a blob of darkness. At the same time, here and there skeletal arms had stretched through the open windows to trail about in the interior of the cab, floating and flickering like sea-weed, plucking weakly at his shirt and trousers, palping his arm or thigh.

'Hags!' declared Monty. 'Drive on!'

The driver raced the engine and the windscreen cleared. One or two other faces showed themselves fleetingly in the places of those that had gone: younger, weaker, more innocent, but no less desperate, trawling unhopefully with this brief glimpse of their younger faces for the twin male l.u.s.ts which they knew were swimming back and forth like sharks somewhere in the depths of the cab. The hands groped more desperately, pleading, tugging, pinching. Then the taxi moved off in a hail of curses and vociferation. One or two of the women even tried to follow in rickshaws, hoping to catch up at the next traffic lights. But in no time they were left behind.

Monty explained, with the weary condescension of an expert, that certain of these women had their own permanent rickshaw coolies, usually ancient, hollowed-out skeletons of men, excavated by the pursuit of their shattering trade in the Singapore heat, who could no longer compete with younger rivals but might still, now and again, whip their broken limbs into a trot to reach some likely looking prospect with their fair cargoes of flesh ... by which he meant, he added with a chuckle, those leathery harridans whose services you could always purchase for a few cents. And they weren't all Chinese, Malay or Tamil either, by any manner of means. Sometimes you came across Europeans, yes, women who had 'gone wrong' in some Eastern city, who had found disgrace through opium or alcohol in Calcutta, Hong Kong or Shanghai ... He, Monty, as a student of human nature, took a pretty keen interest in the stories that some of these women could tell you ... there were even aristocratic women driven out of Russia in penury by the Revolution. And more recently, as a matter of fact, things had been getting better in Singapore as far as women went. Young Chinese girls had been arriving in droves, refugees from the Sino-j.a.p war escaping from Shanghai or Canton ...

'Not better better, Monty!' cried Matthew indignantly. 'How can you be so heartless!'

'Oh, I just meant younger, you know,' muttered Monty sullenly. 'No need to get worked up, old boy. After all, it's not my fault ...'

'But it's all our faults! It's disgraceful! This is supposed to be a prosperous country. We send huge profits back to our fat shareholders in England and yet we can't even provide for a few refugees without them having to go on the streets.'

'It's no good taking this high moral line out here in the East, you know. People don't go in for that sort of thing out here. It's not our cup of tea. You just have to accept things the way they are. In the Straits it's every man for himself, if you know what I mean, and it's as well not to over-do the pious remarks. Personally, and I think I can speak for a lot of chaps who have been out here a while, I don't care for moralizing, in fact it binds me rigid.' Monty sounded irritated. The evening's entertainment, which had started promisingly with the woman fired from the cannon, had proved the dampest of damp squibs. And now, would you believe it? he could hardly say a word without getting a sermon in return.

'I'm sorry, Monty. I don't mean to sound prudish. It's just that I think we have a rotten way of doing things when it comes to anything but making money,' replied Matthew absently for, of course, Monty could not be blamed for the plight of Chinese refugees on the sea-front in Singapore. But where then did the fault lie? While Matthew mused on this problem the little yellow taxi turned about and headed north again. It rather looked, said Monty gloomily, as if they would have to settle for a ma.s.sage somewhere.

25.

Among the painted masks which had peered in through the cab's open windows Matthew had noticed one or two younger faces: he remembered one in particular, of a Chinese girl aged perhaps no more than fifteen or sixteen, rather ugly than pretty, but with a pleasant, homely, elfin ugliness like that of a bulldog, if you can imagine a delicately featured bulldog. Supposing that this girl, as seemed likely, was one of the new recruits that Monty had been talking about, he wondered at what precise moment during the past ten years it had become inevitable that she should be uprooted from her village somewhere in South China, or from a slum in Shanghai, and flung down on the streets of Singapore, obliged to sell herself if she could find a buyer? Surely, suggested Matthew to the pa.s.sive figure of Monty beside him, one must connect this child's desperate face with the long series of failures he himself had witnessed at the League of Nations in Geneva, with the ever-recurring inability of the Great Powers to commit themselves to a world organized on international lines, with the ever-present cynicism of the Foreign Office, and the Quai d'Orsay, and the Wilhelmstra.s.se where no opportunity was ever missed for showing the diplomats' professional distaste for open diplomacy or for sneering at the idea of a world parliament. What chilled the blood was the thought that this girl's plight and a million other tiny tragedies had been brought about by suave, neatly barbered, Savile Row-suited, genial, polite, cultured and probably even humane men in normal circ.u.mstances who would shrink with horror from themselves if they could be made to see their responsibility for what was happening!

Monty's only reply to this suggestion was a grunt or, possibly, a groan. What the point was, in this sort of speculation, he could not for the life of him see. He yawned and smacked his lips. What an evening! First one thing, then another. Well, the only consolation was that this business about which Matthew was getting so steamed up did sometimes produce mouth-watering opportunities. Perhaps he would manage to lay hands on some newly arrived little Chinese piece before the evening was out. It was sometimes on the cards these days, though one had to be lucky.

Encouraged by Monty's grunt of interest in what he had been saying, Matthew went on to explain that his own arrival in Geneva had coincided almost to the day with that fateful explosion beside the South Manchurian Railway in 1931. He had seen it all at first hand, from the first angry denunciations by China's representative, Dr Sze, of ma.s.sacres by j.a.panese troops and the reply of Yoshizawa (the same chap who had just recently been in Java demanding oil and minerals from the Dutch) that the troops were merely defending j.a.pan's enormous interests ... to what had happened much later: to the devious, hypocritical, perfectly disgraceful support given to the untenable j.a.panese position by Sir John Simon and the Foreign Office, not to mention the British Press. Only the Manchester Guardian Manchester Guardian had condemned the j.a.panese and their British supporters. had condemned the j.a.panese and their British supporters.

Monty, peering out at the shadowy streets of Singapore as they fled by on either side of the cab, mumbled that he had been 'in the dark' about all that side of things. He belched dejectedly (perhaps he should not have bolted his fish and chips and beer so greedily at The Great World).

'You see, Monty, so much depended on how the League reacted. It was the first time the Council had had to deal with a quarrel involving a major power and it set the style for everything that has happened since ... for everything that will happen, even if one day they manage to revive the League, for years to come. for years to come. Because at that time people all over the world still believed in the League. When the Manchurian crisis broke out it was almost like some medieval tournament. People flocked to Geneva to see the respective delegates do battle. Each side spent vast sums of money, which their countries could ill afford, on propaganda and entertainment to try and win people over to their side. The Chinese took over a luxurious suite on the Quai Wilson, got hold of a French chef and some vintage wines and started giving magnificent dinner-parties. Because at that time people all over the world still believed in the League. When the Manchurian crisis broke out it was almost like some medieval tournament. People flocked to Geneva to see the respective delegates do battle. Each side spent vast sums of money, which their countries could ill afford, on propaganda and entertainment to try and win people over to their side. The Chinese took over a luxurious suite on the Quai Wilson, got hold of a French chef and some vintage wines and started giving magnificent dinner-parties.

'Meanwhile, as a sort of counter-attack the j.a.ps staged a colossal reception in the Kursaal at which tons of food and gallons of wine were funnelled into the open mouths of the plump burghers of Geneva as if into Strasbourg geese ... In return they made everyone watch a dreary propaganda film which they showed in the empty, echoing opera-house next door (both places had been shut down for the winter) all about the benefits of the South Manchuria Railway Company. Dismal isn't the word. It did no good, anyway, because of the Lytton Report. You know all about that, I expect?'

Hoping to forestall further revelations Monty murmured that, as a matter of fact, he was rather well-informed on that ... er ... particular subject ... er ... But Matthew willingly set to work to refresh his memory, just in case. 'This fellow is a serious menace,' thought Monty, glancing at the stout, bespectacled figure of his companion.

What had happened was that the League, this was actually a temporizing device, sent a commission of enquiry composed of a German doctor, a French general, an Italian count and an American Major-General under the chairmanship of Lord Lytton to Manchuria to establish the disputed facts of the matter. It had taken them a year but when they finally published their report, they made no bones about it: j.a.pan was roundly condemned ... no doubt to the horror of Sir John Simon and his ilk. They concluded that Manchuria was an integral part of China, that the j.a.panese action could not be justified as self-defence, that j.a.p troops should be withdrawn and a genuinely Chinese regime restored. 'That really set the cat among the pigeons, as you can imagine!'

Whether Monty could imagine or not, all he said was: 'This place is usually full of troops at this time of night. It's funny, there must have been a police raid or something.'

The taxi had come to a halt in a sleazy rubbish-strewn street lined with the usual two-storey shophouses but wider than the streets they had come through. Matthew, still in Geneva, stared out in a daze. Washing, hanging over the street from a forest of poles, tossed and billowed in the light breeze like the banners of an army on the march. Here and there dim electric lights glimmered, emphasizing the darkness rather than shedding light. Monty was speaking.

'Sorry, what's that?'

'I said I thought we might have a beer before going home.'

One moment the street was deserted except for a few shadowy figures playing mah-jong under a street-lamp, the next it suddenly began to fill up; men were scurrying out of doorways, pedalling up on bicycles, galloping towards them in the shafts of rickshaws, even slithering down drainpipes. Nearby a manhole cover where the pavement spanned the storm-drain popped up and men began to pour out of that, too. All these men were converging on one place, the taxi in which Matthew sat in a trance with his thoughts struggling back like refugees from Geneva. He roused himself at last. 'What's all this?'

'They're just looking for customers for their girls,' said Monty who had been paying the taxi-driver. 'Come on, and hold on to your wallet.'

Before they could set foot on the pavement they were surrounded by dim, jostling figures. Words were whispered confidentially into Matthew's ear as he waded after Monty ... 'Nice girl' ... 'Guarantee virgin' ... 'You wantchee try Singapore Glip? More better allsame Shanghai Glip!' ('Do I want to try what what?' wondered Matthew unable to make head nor tail of this rigmarole.) ... 'Oil ma.s.sage number one!' ... Hands flourished grubby visiting-cards. 'You want very nice pleasure!' bayed a giant, bearded Sikh, placing himself menacingly in their path. 'You coming please this way.' But Monty brushed him aside and dived into a lighted doorway beneath a sign reading: 'Dorchester Bed and Breakfast. Very select. All welcome. Servicemen welcome.' Matthew, one hand anxiously gripping his wallet, plunged after Monty. His head was reeling again. 'I must be ill,' he thought giddily as he clambered up a smelly flight of stairs. 'What am I doing here? I should be at home in bed.'

At the top of the stairs an Indian with oiled black hair and a dark, pock-marked face was waiting to greet them. His smile revealed very white teeth among which nestled here and there a glittering gold one; the glitter of his teeth was echoed by the glitter of a row of gold-topped fountain pens and propelling pencils in the breast pocket of his shirt, by the fat gold rings on his fingers, and by the steel watch on his wrist: all this combined to give him a disagreeably metallic appearance. Around his waist he had wound what at first appeared to be a white sarong sarong; on closer inspection it proved to be merely a bath towel with the words Hotel Adelphi Singapore Hotel Adelphi Singapore in blue. Was this his normal attire or had they just surprised him in his bath? For a moment it was hard to be sure. in blue. Was this his normal attire or had they just surprised him in his bath? For a moment it was hard to be sure.

'Very kind lovely gentlemen,' he said, putting his palms and long, delicate, glittering fingers of both hands together in graceful gesture, 'please coming this way please.'

They were shown into a small, dimly lit room. An elderly and very fat Indian lady, who had evidently been asleep there on the floor, was making a hasty exit and dragging her bedding with her. Monty ordered beers and they sat down, Monty on a bamboo chair, Matthew on a broken-backed couch. The Indian had disappeared down a pa.s.sage. Matthew stared round the room uneasily. What strange places Monty frequented!

On the wall there were two calendars: one, for 1940, advertised the Nippon Kisen Kaisha Nippon Kisen Kaisha and showed an enormous ocean liner with Mount Fuji rising improbably out of the mists behind it; the other was for 1939, advertizing Fraser and Neave's soda water: a healthy-looking European girl, whose rather blank, flawless face bore an odd resemblance to Joan's, was holding a tennis racket in one hand and a gla.s.s in the other: two men in tennis flannels in the background, very much diminished by perspective, whispered together beneath her outstretched arm and eyed her with interest. Nearby was another picture, this time a photograph torn from a magazine and framed. Matthew gave an exclamation of surprise when he saw who it was: for how often had he not seen that familiar face coming or going in the lobby at the Hotel Beau Rivage in Geneva! For what hopes and, ultimately, for what despair had its owner not been responsible when he had faced Mussolini over the Abyssinian crisis! With excitement he summoned Monty to join him in gazing at the foxy, handsome features of Anthony Eden. and showed an enormous ocean liner with Mount Fuji rising improbably out of the mists behind it; the other was for 1939, advertizing Fraser and Neave's soda water: a healthy-looking European girl, whose rather blank, flawless face bore an odd resemblance to Joan's, was holding a tennis racket in one hand and a gla.s.s in the other: two men in tennis flannels in the background, very much diminished by perspective, whispered together beneath her outstretched arm and eyed her with interest. Nearby was another picture, this time a photograph torn from a magazine and framed. Matthew gave an exclamation of surprise when he saw who it was: for how often had he not seen that familiar face coming or going in the lobby at the Hotel Beau Rivage in Geneva! For what hopes and, ultimately, for what despair had its owner not been responsible when he had faced Mussolini over the Abyssinian crisis! With excitement he summoned Monty to join him in gazing at the foxy, handsome features of Anthony Eden.

Monty, however, declined to move. Either he was an habitue habitue of the establishment and had already seen the picture, or else he had no particular interest in Anthony Eden; it might be, too, that he feared another discourse on world affairs for he winced visibly as Matthew, reminded of Geneva by the picture of Anthony Eden, suddenly resumed his harangue on the Lytton Report. of the establishment and had already seen the picture, or else he had no particular interest in Anthony Eden; it might be, too, that he feared another discourse on world affairs for he winced visibly as Matthew, reminded of Geneva by the picture of Anthony Eden, suddenly resumed his harangue on the Lytton Report.

'As I was saying, it set the cat among the pigeons, of course it did! The Lytton Report condemned j.a.pan. Result? China could now demand action under Article 16 according to which the other members of the League could be asked to sever trade and financial relations with j.a.pan. This was something that the Big Powers did not want to do: both Von Neurath, for Germany, and the bald baron, whatever his name was, for Italy, made it quite plain in the a.s.sembly debate on the Lytton Report that they wouldn't put up with any positive action. For three days the matter was thrashed out by the whole a.s.sembly in one of the larger rooms of the Disarmament Conference Building, where, as I expect you know, another long-running tragedy was playing at the same time, but among the Big Powers it was our man, I'm afraid, Sir John Simon, who really took the biscuit ...'

While Matthew, who had sprung up from the couch again and was striding up and down the room making the floorboards creak, had been discoursing the Indian had reappeared with two bottles of beer with straws in them. He looked unsurprised to find one of his customers striding up and down shouting; odd behaviour was by no means unusual under his roof, but he was inclined to take it philosophically, reflecting that every profession must have its disadvantages. He handed one bottle to Monty and the other to Matthew who took it without noticing.

'Simon, believe it or not, managed to give such a selective interpretation of the Lytton Report that anyone who hadn't read it might have wondered whether it wasn't the Chinese who had invaded j.a.pan instead of vice versa. Not surprisingly, the smaller nations were indignant. Before their very eyes all the fine words and n.o.ble undertakings were proving to be gross hypocrisy. "If the League does not succeed in securing peace and justice," the Norwegian delegate declared angrily, "then the whole system by which right was meant to replace might will collapse." And he knew what he was talking about, as it has turned out. One of the Finns then wanted to know if the League was merely a debating club. I don't know if you can imagine, Monty, the shock and anger and disappointment we all felt at the way Simon and our Foreign Office destroyed, with the help of their cronies, what was without doubt the best chance the world had ever had to inst.i.tute a system of international justice!' Matthew, making a violent gesture with his beer bottle, had caused the liquid inside it to foam out of the neck and spill over his hand. He paused for a moment to brood and lick his knuckles.

In the meantime the door had opened and half a dozen women had been shown in; they went to sit in a glum row on a bench against the wall.

'You picking please woman at your disposition,' said the Indian politely.

Four of the newcomers were middle-aged Chinese women with scarlet cheekbones; two of them started a whispered conversation in Cantonese, a third puffed smoke-rings from green lips, a fourth took out her knitting. The other two women were much younger, mere girls; one was a flat-nosed, round-faced Malay, the other a plain, pallid Chinese with neat pigtails; this latter girl took out a school exercise book and a text book and began to do her Latin homework. Monty looked them over without excitement and belched: the beer seemed unusually gaseous this evening. He was uncomfortable and out of sorts, no doubt about it. He felt, in particular, that there was still another bubble of air lodged distressingly inside him. Would it soon rise to the surface? He waited, surveying himself internally and thinking what a wretched evening he was having.

Suddenly, from some other part of the building through the thin walls there came a drunken Scandinavian voice. 'You say you are a wirgin. I say you are not not a wirgin!' This was followed by an alarming crash. a wirgin!' This was followed by an alarming crash.

'But,' said Matthew, who had taken a gulp of beer and was striding up and down once more (he was sweating copiously and felt by no means sober though he had had little to drink all evening), 'the Report was there and there was nothing they could do about it. That Report had stuck in the gullets of the Great Powers. They could neither swallow it nor spit it out. In fact, the only thing they could think of to do was, of course, what they always did in Geneva when they found themselves at a loss: they formed a committee ... this one was to report on the Report report on the Report! Ludicrous! It was called the Committee of Nineteen. It wasted no time in settling down to the stern task of fostering sub-committees of its own in the best Geneva tradition, in particular a sub-committee for conciliation. What a farce! At one time the cynics were saying that they would soon have to have a report on the report on the Report. And yet the Report itself was plain enough. In due course the Committee of Nineteen produced its report on the Report, however. They even went so far as to broadcast it from the League's new wireless station in Geneva. And yet again the Big Powers found themselves with egg on their faces! j.a.pan was plainly condemned. Chinese sovereignty should be restored. Members of the League should not recognize Manchukuo. But ironically enough, at the very moment that j.a.pan was being condemned at Geneva she was preparing to invade Eastern Inner Mongolia as well.'