Chapter 18
HOPEFUL IN BRUNEI
Ennis woke up to the realisation that he been totally absorbed up by his discovery and his business would have been neglected if it was not for the dedication of Helene Springer. The meeting Joe Hamza, a Brunian, whom Aris had described as a businessman with interests in fine art, finally seemed like an opportunity to Ennis, since Joe had, according to Aris, close business contacts with the ‘very top’ people in the Sultanate. Hamza imported antiques from all over Asia to decorate the palaces of Brunei’s royal family in addition to his other activities, notably arms and oil.
Brunei was an absolute monarchy and had a reputation of being an unexciting destination because of its strict Muslim traditions. The tiny country’s autocratic ruler, the Sultan of Brunei Darussalam, was often called the richest man in the world, his country’s economy was oil-based, the third largest oil producer in South-East Asia and the fourth largest producer of liquefied natural gas in the world. It was however also more recently in the news for the extraordinary discovery in its territorial waters of a Chinese junk laden with porcelain and stoneware.
Aris explained that he had met Hamza, who had been part of an official delegation from Brunei, at an ASEAN forestry industry conference, whose agenda included discussions on forestry conservation and development of non-timber resources. Logging was almost non-existent in Brunei but its government had introduced a policy for the encouragement of economic diversification outside of the non-oil and gas sector, especially for financial services, tourism, and transport.
The government’s vision was to promote the country as a unique tourist destination by creating an international awareness of Brunei Darussalam as a holiday destination, making tourism one of the main contributors to the small country’s economy. As a consequence priority was to be given to the promotion of its image as a tourist destination offering eco-tourism, cultural events and exhibitions.
That evening on his arrival at Brunei’s international airport, Ennis did not have the impression that tourism and culture was a number one priority, the welcome was dismal, especially as they were in no great hurry to roll out the red carpet for him. In the lobby of Ang’s Hotel s he whistled in dismay, so this is Bandar Seri Bagawan he thought. It was obvious that the hotel had seen better days. According to the Royal Brunei’s booking office in Singapore the Sheraton had been fully booked, perhaps their special offer was an arrangement with Ang’s for unwary travellers. In any case what was certain was that Ang’s was definitely not in the same class as the Sheraton, it even had distinct undertones of a second class Pontianak hotel.
Well too bad, that’s what I get for trying to do things myself, he mused, regretfully thinking about the long wait at Changi Airport.
It had been almost midnight when he had arrived at the International Airport of the Sultanate of Brunei Darussalam; there was a one-hour time difference with Singapore. The terminal was under reconstruction and once inside the building he had been almost immediately confronted by a team of over zealous customs officers, who naturally wanted him to open the heaviest of his suitcases, the most tightly strapped, for the most cursory of glances.
Immigration he noted, controlled not only Brunians and foreigners, but also ‘stateless persons’, who he later learnt, were the local ethnic Chinese.
There had been no reply from to the last fax that he had sent to Joe Hamza, and of course there was nobody to meet him. He glanced at the price pinned on the back of his room door ‘218 Brunei’ dollars with a cryptic ‘++’, meaning that taxes and services were extra; the room looked as cheap as the price. He noted from the drinks price list on the mini-bar that the price of the beer was unusually low, probably some local brew.
The flight had been fine, he could not complain about that. The plane had been almost empty, which was no doubt why the ticket had been cheap. Royal Brunei needed to encourage visitor, and from what he had so far seen the tourists had not headed their appeals.
It was much too late to try to get Joe on the phone so he settled down with a beer, washing down a couple of anti-malaria tablets at the same time; it looked like they would be needed. He switched on the TV and watched a scratchy version of ‘Splendour in the Grass’ with Natalie Wood on the hotel video channel.
The following morning he was up with the sun, it was too early to call Joe. He decided to explore a Brunei a little, a visit to the ceramic collection at the National Museum would be a good starting point. First he would take a relaxed breakfast in ‘The Chempaka Garden’, the exotic name given to the hotel coffee shop. It looked pleasant enough in the bright sun light, there was a small fountain surrounded with dense ornamental vegetation and tall slender saplings as a backdrop.
The waitresses were Chinese. It appeared that in Brunei that the local Chinese were the underprivileged, a striking contrast compared to their mostly privileged situation in the neighbouring countries.
The coffee shop was practically empty. He took a seat under a line of large Taiwanese ceiling fans that rotated lazily pushing the breakfast odours around the room. He looked at the menu as he waited hopefully to order breakfast, his nearest neighbour was a Chinese lounging over his table loudly sucking his teeth.
He looked up, and for an instant was startled, seeing a new arrival who had appeared at the entrance to the coffee shop. For an instant he thought it was the St Johns Ambulance Brigade that had arrived, on second glance it appeared to be a British tourist wearing a traditional Brunei hat, adorned with a white band. He wore thick glasses and sported a full beard, dressed in casual wear and trainers carrying a holdall marked ‘Blackheath Harriers’. Ennis wondered to himself whether Brunei got to people that way after some time, or perhaps the new arrival was going to jump on the waitress and give her first aid, or even a little mouth to mouth!
He returned to his room, it was warm and sticky. He telephoned Joe again. A girl replied, speaking excellent English with a slight local accent, ‘Joe is not here.’
‘Will he be there today?’ She did not know. She would pass the message on that Ennis was in town and Joe would call him back.
His first impression was that the small country seemed to be even slower than Indonesia, but without the same charm, he then realised it was Friday. The obvious reason for the lack of any activity, he thought, it was a Muslim country and the faithful were at prayer in the mosques.
He went back down to the lobby, beginning to feel distinctly irritated by the situation that Aris had dropped him into doubting that business with Joe could be of any interest. He noticed absent mindedly, that the waitresses were wearing copies of Singapore Airlines outfits. They were unsmiling though seemed friendly enough, they also wore white armbands.
Ennis had discovered from the front desk that an old beloved uncle of Sultan’s had died; a forty-day mourning period had been decreed. That was why the tourists and the hotel staff wore the white armbands or white bands on their hats; a sign of mourning in Brunei.
His depression intensified when an hour latter he himself was wearing an armband, five Brunei dollars, compulsory, or a fine. A Singaporean Chinese complained to him quietly in the lobby ‘harassment!’, mourning was compulsory.
The ceramic collection was closed, normal it was Friday. He checked in the phone book, noting that Joe’s office was located nearby. He decided to visit ‘The Chandranath Complex’ and discreetly check out Joe’s firm. The add he had seen in the Yellow Pages flouted its qualities as a business centre, but to his disappointment it was a small third floor office in a very modest edifice of no particular style, not having the slightest resemblance with the meaning of the word ‘complex’ in Singapore, and worse it appeared be closed.
He checked his watch, it was lunchtime, he decided to walk back to the hotel, it took about fifteen minutes. He noted wistfully that the ride in the hotel car to the ‘complex’ had cost him over thirty dollars; he had given a fifty dollar bill to the driver and was still waiting for the change.
Wa
lking back he realised that he was the only person in Bandar without a car. At least there was a pavement. He spotted only one other carless traveller, and he was a cyclist.
He walked back down Jalan Tutong, off to the left hand side was the Istana Darussalam, modest compared with the more recent palace, the Istana Nurul Iman, with its 1778 rooms, according to the guide he had picked up at the hotel reception. The Straits Times reported that it had cost over four hundred million American dollars, and its architect had overrun the budget by an extraordinary amount. Since its ‘completion’ the palace was in a constant state of building with numerous extensions and modifications.
On his return to Angs, there was a message from Hamza. He called back at once. It was like talking to an old friend.
‘Hallo John how are you? True to your promise to come to Brunei!’
Ennis was surprised by the introduction and in a long and winding conversation, Hamza recounted how the previous evening he had watched the Royal Brunei plane as it made its approach over the sea, at that precise moment he had been fifty miles from Bandar near Seria to the southwest. ‘As I saw the plane go by I said to my friend “There goes John!”’
It seemed an odd kind of conversation, but Ennis gladly accepted his invitation dinner at seven thirty that evening. Joe would pick him up at Angs.
With nothing better to do until the evening, he lunched in the hotel restaurant, eating a very good chicken curry; it really was very good, except for the numerous stones in the rice, and quality of the restaurant spoon, which with a little pressure bent like the cheap kind that would have been more suitable in an Iban longhouse.
As he drank his pint of chilled Anchor draft beer he thought that the chicken was certainly one of those long legged varieties that he had so often seen in kampongs, a bit stringy but tasty.
He was disappointed by his initial impressions of Brunei, which contradicted the myth of the Sultanate’s immense riches; it seemed to be a bit of a backwater lacking the charm needed to attract foreign investors and tourists.
Brunei had one of the highest per capita incomes in the world with its oil and natural gas reserves, a formula that seemed to go with absolute monarchies. They needed nobody and Ennis sadly reflected they probably didn’t need him either, ‘they don’t know what they’re missing,’ he thought, as he picked at the chicken bones.
The collection would not be open before Monday, so with the time on his hands he would try to find out what made the place tick. He could not abandon Brunei without making a little effort to get to know the place, there was so much money, perhaps there was a way of getting a small part of it for a good cause. He felt happier when he remembered that the good cause was his own.
Joe arrived exactly at seven thirty promptly. He had the look of a local army officer type, a squat build, thick black hair streaked with grey, sporting a military moustache. He smiled broadly, displaying shinning white teeth, as he pumped Ennis’s hand.
‘Listen John it’s really good to see you here. Let’s go, you don’t mind if we pick up my friend from Kota Kinabulu.’
‘No problem.’ replied Ennis.
‘She’s staying at the Sheraton.’
Great, thought Ennis, she’s in better luck than me, and probably a dam sight prettier. I suppose I’m going to sit there looking on whilst they relish the thought of their after dinner program.’
‘She’s with Harrisons. Just returned from Hong Kong, she’s been on a trip.’
He looked very pleased with himself as he added, ‘Just dropped off to see me.’
Joe had reserved a table in one of the few decent restaurants in Bandar, an imitation English pub. He started by ordering Sydney oysters. Ennis was more used to the French version of oysters and on inspecting those presented he couldn’t help noticing that they were dead!
Throughout the meal he had visions of hepatitis and all other kinds of deadly diseases, wondering what disaster would descend on his bowels during the night. In spite of that it was a pleasant dinner with easy conversation. Joe was full of ideas, and his business. He did not know Ennis had visited his offices at the Chandranath Complex. Joe displayed all the exterior signs of wealth that they were so particularly fond of in Asia.
He wore a solid gold Rolex watch, a large diamond set in a ring that he wore on the small finger of his right hand, and of course he was driving a shining Land Rover, the latest and most expensive model, fitted out with the extras and gadgets, including a powerful two-way radio set to communicate with places deep in the nearby forests. It was in a class well above the average family car that and the smaller 4x4’s Ennis had seen crowding the streets of Bandar.
Joe’s girl friend, whose name Ennis had not caught and had carefully avoided studying too closely, out of politeness to his host, did not hesitate to join in their conversation. She seemed to be intelligent and well educated, but Ennis couldn’t figure out what the relationship between her and Joe was.
It probably was not very complicated to guess Ennis thought to himself. It emerged that she was with Harrisons, an old and important trading company. She also appeared to be very knowledgeable about local history.
The dinner was excessively expensive and Joe made an extravagant show when he settled the bill pulling out a thick packet of one thousand Ringgit bills and peeled off a couple. On reflection he realised why it was so expensive, everything was imported with the possible exception of the rice and even that was not sure. Brunei was sitting on a vast reserve of oil and gas, and was probably second only to Kuwait in per capita wealth.
‘Basically John,’ he lowered his voice, ‘I am interested in a wide range of business opportunities, including art and antiques, especially tribal art, that’s fashionable today. Maybe Aris told you, maybe he didn’t, but I have very close contacts with the very top!
Ennis nodded, he had to agree that the kind of money spent by the Royal Family must have produced quite a lot of profits.
‘My clients are amongst the richest collectors in Asia,’ he said with a knowing smile, ‘that means they are looking for quality, which is not so easy to find today, quantity yes but quality no!’
Joe then decided that they should get down to serious business the next morning, and proposed meeting for breakfast to get an early start to the day. He dropped Ennis off at Ang’s, who, as he waved goodbye, could not help imagining that Joe had other things in mind with the Harrisons girl.
She was attractive thought Ennis wistfully, not bad at all, but she was not available. As he walked up the two flights of stairs, to his room he could not help feeling a little sorry for himself in a maudlin way.
Joe arrived on time the next morning for breakfast at Angs coffee shop. They started with generalities and Ennis had the impression that Joe was stalling, or perhaps he was feeling him out for some as yet unexplained reason.
He listened as Joe as he meandered on about his relations with the people at the ‘top’ at the same wondering about Joe’s night before. He hoped Joe had enjoyed it, ‘he could at least have invited me for a drink’, then he was curious to know whether there was a discotheque in the Sheraton or not.
He snapped out of his fantasy as Joe started to talk about art and culture.
‘My relations with the Ministry of Culture are naturally very good. Today our national museum is overloaded with its collection of ceramics, we have much too many pieces from the famous wreck,’ he laughed then lowered his voice, ‘and now I can tell you very confidentially, as a friend of Aris, there is more to come.’
Ennis listened slowly picking up interest.
‘So, let me get to the point, our minister has decided to sell on the market part of the ceramic collection that is lying in the museum store.’
‘Most interesting.’
‘Now here is the most interesting thing, the minister is prepared to issue an exploration licence for the underwater excavation of a newly discovered wreck lying in our territorial waters.’
Ennis sat up; the stories of wrecks
were something that had interested him for a long time.
‘This needs an investment…and our good friend Aris has informed me that this kind of business could be of interest you?’
‘It could certainly be of interest,’ Ennis paused trying to find the right words and appear businesslike, ‘but of course it depends on the origin of the wreck and more important its cargo. This should not be too complicated, if the cargo is of interest it would be necessary to have the right to excavate and recover of the ships contents with the commercial exclusivity to dispose of the items recovered. That is the key question, I don’t have to tell you that I’m a businessman and am not engaged in philanthropic works.’
‘I understand that John, that’s why we’re here talking together. What has been suggested is a partnership with the National Museum, they would have the right of first refusal for any items of great value, then the rest of the cargo could be sold on the open market. What do you think?’
‘It sounds interesting. What do you propose as the next move?’
‘Leave that with me and I’ll fix up a meeting on Monday with my good friend the minister.’
‘Sounds fine to me.’
‘Fine John, listen, why don’t I organise a visit to the ceramic collection and the archaeological workshop?’
‘A good idea.’
‘I’ll try to get that arranged for Monday morning and then the ministry in the afternoon. You have to get one thing clear, in Bandar business is done directly or indirectly through the Sultans family, which holds all the key ministries. I know them all very well,’ he said. ‘I went to the same school with the Sultan in Kuala Lumpur when we were young. I’m also on talking terms with Prince Jeffrey, who is also the Minister of Finance,’ he winked slyly.
He then looked at his watch and suddenly excused himself.
‘John, I’m sorry I’ve another appointment, can you look after yourself?’ He didn’t pause to see if Ennis would say no.
‘Let’s have dinner, I’ll call you later!’
After Joe had left, Ennis feeling decidedly better concluded that there was no time like the present would to explore Brunei, looking at it a little more closely. It would not be too not difficult, the capital had a population of some fifty thousand and the whole country was no bigger than a few thousand square kilometres, a large part of which consisted of jungle covered mountains and swamps according to the guidebook that he had picked up at Changi Airport in Singapore.
From what he had seen up to that moment, it didn’t resemble a country where the per capita income was supposed to be over more than twenty thousands US dollars a year. He concluded that someone was getting more than his fair share.
He soon discovered in Brunei outside of certain hotels and restaurants, alcohol was virtually unobtainable and there was no nightlife to speak. The government encouraged quiet obedience to the Muslim traditions and the edicts of the Sultan. In compensation for their respect to these basic rules were rewarded with free healthcare, free education, free sporting centres, cheap loans and high tax-free wages.
The hotel desk told him to go to the National Information Centre. He found it without too much difficulty, a nondescript timber structure on the edge of the river Sungai Brunei, an extreme contrast with the fine new buildings on the same bank; it would have been more in place on the other side of the river in Kampong Ayer.
The only recent publication was a small booklet that he had already found in Singapore. The other books were long out of date. He then went to the French Embassy, but found it closed. Saturday, but no doubt it was open on Friday - when everything else was closed.
He then went to the fine Hong Kong Bank building, the biggest and most well known commercial bank in Brunei. Its subsidiary merchant bank, Wardleys, had been fund manager of the countries immense wealth, until they were fired for mysterious reasons.
It was very crowded, on the first floor in the executive section, a Chinese receptionist gave him an outdated copy of a Brunei information brochure, and then bid him good day as they were about to close the doors - half day!
He decided a little detective work was in order to check-out some background information on Joe’s company at the ‘Brunei Darussalam State Chamber of Commerce’.
They explained to him over the phone it was quite nearby, about one mile, suggesting he drop by. It took the hotel driver over thirty minutes to find it.
The Chamber of Commerce consisted of a couple of rooms including Johnny Esco’s ‘business centre’. A hole in the wall outfit. Johnny, a small, sharp, Filipino, who did not look as if he would ever be very successful, tried to weasel out some information from Ennis concerning the reasons for his visit to Brunei. He left empty handed promising to contact Johnny if ever he needed his services, which seemed an unlikely option.
Brunei was proving to be elusive. He decided to stop off and quench his thirst, in the cool air of the bar at the Sheraton, about two hundred yards from Ang’s. It was Happy Hour; he soon struck up a desultory conversation with a couple of British expatriates, quickly downing a couple of cool beers. One of the expats was a civilian instructor in the Brunian army looking forward to retirement in Grimsby. Ennis doubted that he would ever see his retirement as he appeared to be in the middle of an intense love affair with whisky and cigarettes.
Ennis began to wonder what he was going to do over the rest of the weekend; the entertainment seemed to be very low powered. He began to think that it would be a hard slog until the Monday meeting with the Minister that Joe had promised.
Faced with such lassitude, he decided to go back to Ang’s for a nap as the sky was beginning to look menacing, and after the beer he was feeling a little drowsy. Later that evening he could return to the Sheraton for a light snack. Ang’s was definitely out and it was too late to consider changing hotels.
After a nap he collected a new armband from the hotel receptionist and pick-up a map that indicated a nearby jogging course. Then carefully weighing up the sky, he took off to walk the thirty-five minute circuit. After ten minutes he saw the dark clouds moving up, he could see the other side of Bandar, like most places in Borneo it was made up of rickety run down unpainted wooden houses and general stores. Long legged chickens strutted on top of smoking garbage piles as dogs sniffed at around the pools of foetid rain water, just a couple of miles from the extravagant palace that had been built on the revenues of the country’s oil and gas resources.
As he arrived back in the town, walking down the low hill that overlooked the river, he had a view of the other bank and the other half of the town, from the distance it looked like Pontianak, speedboats criss-crossing the water like insects skimming over the surface. The road down into the town was jammed with traffic for about a mile and a half and the sky had become heavily overcast filled with threatening black storm clouds on the horizon.
Accelerating his pace, he arrived on the riverside and was quickly in town. It had started to rain big drops. Ennis thought that he was going to get a shower, like the previous day when he was soaked literally to the skin in a short distance of only about two hundred yards. There was still had about a kilometre to walk, he continued under the shopping arcades, as heavy drops fell, but without it really starting to rain. He just made it to the Sheraton, when it really started to bucket down. He would have to wait until the rain stopped; it would not last for more than about half an hour at the most.
Walking into to lobby the cold air hit him, a refreshing beer or perhaps an orange juice would be in order. It was too late in the afternoon to eat anything, and perhaps it would be best to avoid the beer, so that he would feel fresh for his dinner with Joe.
He strolled into the coffee shop, sat down and ordered an orange juice. It was quiet and a little dark as the clouds filled the sky. Pondering over his discussion with Joe, he concluded that if he could get a permit for the excavation and recovery of the wreck’s cargo, it could be a very interesting and profitable business, he would have not wasted his time in Brunei,
he also wondered about Aris and his wily ways. Apart from that aspect there was not much to do in the small country, nothing very interesting to see and no nightlife.
‘It’s not Bangkok everywhere,’ he thought, as the orange juice was placed in front of him. He began to sip the imported juice as he watched the rain streaming down the panoramic windows, it looked like November in England, but he was sitting there in a short-sleeved shirt.
‘Hello!’
He looked up surprised.
‘Oh! Hello.’ It was the girl from Harrisons.
‘Can I sit down?’
‘Sure,’ he said, still surprised to have his daydream interrupted.
‘You look surprised!’
‘Yes, I just came in to get out of the rain, I wasn’t expecting to see anybody I knew.’
She laughed, tossing her head back and showing her perfect teeth. She was dressed in a short sleeve check blouse and khaki shorts, looking remarkably fresh.
‘I took a long walk. I wanted to see what Brunei looked like.’
‘You should have told me, I would have joined you.’
Ennis was a little bit surprised, and Harrison’s girl could see it.
‘You think that’s strange!’
‘No,’ he hesitated ‘I just thought that you would have had something else to do.’
‘Like what!’ She looked at him directly, ‘with Joe maybe!’
‘Maybe... why not!’ he said weakly.
‘You know, Joe is a business friend, but nothing else,” she announce rather fiercely. “I met him in Kota Kinabulu and here, when I’ve been on business trips, sure he would like to know me better.’ She laughed adding in a more friendly tone. ‘He’s not really my type.’
‘Oh!’ said Ennis uneasily trying to cover his embarrassment. He had not expected to meet the Harrisons girl, and he had not imagined that her relationship with Joe was anything other than being one of his many girl friends.
As if she read his thoughts she said. ‘I suppose that you imagine that I sleep with him.’
‘No it’s not that,’ he stuttered even more embarrassed by her directness.
She continued to fix him with her look, then she seemed to relax, and to his surprise she reached out and touched his arm.
‘I’m sorry, excuse me, I’m not being very polite.’
‘No, no, it’s me.’
‘No, I’m always a bit aggressive, let’s start again, can I drink something.’
‘Sure.’ he said making a sign to the waitress.
‘You know when I come here I always meet Joe, he’s one of my customers, and he’s very nice, but nothing more.’
‘I’m sorry, but listen, you don’t have to explain all that to me,’ he laughed and Harrisons girl laughed too. The tension was broken.
She told him that she looked after fine art at Harrisons. It was an old trading company that had been founded by the British in the last century. Her family owned the business and she had persuaded her father to go into the art and antiques market, opening a gallery in Kota Kinabulu. She travelled the region meeting the company’s clients, and developing new business.
‘Isn’t it an unusual job for a young woman in Malaysia?’
‘Yes I suppose it is, but I studied history and art in England, it would be a waste if I didn’t use my education. My family has been in trading for a long time, I suppose they would have preferred it if I had gone in for a job where I didn’t travel, but I like it!’
‘Joe telephoned me at three, he said that he was not free tonight something to do with a minister,’ she said, as if asking Ennis if he knew something about it.
‘I don’t know,’ replied Ennis avoiding the question.
‘Listen, if Joe’s doing nothing this evening, and you’ve got nothing special on for the evening, why don’t we have a look around town together?’ She smiled, as if pleading; Ennis was intrigued, and moreover surprised.
‘OK, when I get back to Ang’s, if he’s left a message, I’ll call you, what’s your room number?’
He looked out towards the window; it appeared as if the rain had stopped. He called for the check and left saying he would call her.
Outside it was hot and humid; there were large puddles of water on the pavement. He walked the three hundred meters to Angs, thinking about the chance meeting with the Harrisons girl, he had not even asked her name. He remembered that Joe had introduced her at the restaurant but he had not caught her name. He had been surprised by her presence; he imagined Joe had been mixing their business with his private affairs. He had felt like an intruder and in addition the Harrisons girl had not made any sign that she was other than one of Joe’s many girl friends.
It could be interesting, he thought hoping that Joe had cancelled their dinner appointment, and waking up to the possibilities that he suddenly realised might open. He accelerated his step and as he entered Ang’s he felt his heart beating, maybe Joe had said that, because he did not want Harrison’s girl with them.
‘Are there any messages for me?’ he asked at the reception. The girl looked in the key boxes and produced an envelope, Ennis opened it. It was a telephone message, brief and to the point, a problem had arisen and Joe was not available for dinner, he would pick him up at nine Monday morning.
Ennis went to his room pleased, and immediately called the Sheraton.
They took a taxi to the Yayasan Sultan Haji Hassanal Bolkiah complex, a modern shopping centre, little different to those that have sprung up in all the cities of Southeast Asia. They continued to the traditional local market trying the local delicacies alongside the Kianggeh River, in the heart of Bandar Seri Begawan, and as night fell they watched the traders arrive in their small boats laden with their goods for the market.
Taking a boat they visited Kampong Ayer, said to be the world’s largest water village, where she showed him its antique dealers with their traditional Malaysian Keris daggers, brass canons and local hand tooled silverware and jewellery.
Returning to the hotel they took a simply dinner in the coffee shop and their conversation turned to the peoples of Borneo.
‘You know in Sabah, we are not Malays!’ she said, Ennis did not reply, he waited. ‘But we are what is called in Malay Bumiputras, ‘sons of the soil’. That means we’re not Chinese or some other kind of recently arrived group.’
‘What are you then? In any case this is the first time I’ve been in this part of East Malaysia.’
‘This isn’t Malaysia, this is Brunei!’
‘Sorry.’
‘Never mind, come to Sabah with me and I’ll explain all that.’ Harrisons’ girl was not only very proud of her country, Sabah, but all of Borneo.
‘That will be difficult, I have to continue to Jakarta tomorrow evening,’ he said thinking she was joking.
‘Why?’ she said with a look of dismay.
‘Business.’
Again she touched his arm; she did not take her hand away.
‘When will you come to Sabah?’
‘Soon.’
He was puzzled, it seemed as though she was pressing him, as if she had already decided that they had established much more than a passing relationship. She was extremely attractive but Ennis was uneasy, he felt as if he was being pursued. It was as if he was not in control. He was pleased and flattered, but he was not used to that kind of a situation.
‘Then I’ll arrange it!’
They finished their dinner and went to the bar. Harrison’s girl held his arm, and sat very close to him. Ennis racked his brain trying to remember her name, but there was no way.
Finally he decided, the sooner he found out the better, after all she was holding on to him as if she owned him, which was not disagreeable, in fact he thought things could not be better. It was a situation that he would never have anticipated, just a few hours earlier.
‘You know I have to confess, I didn’t catch your name the other day, I feel very silly.’
She pronounced her name but it was lost to h
is ears.
‘That’s very difficult to pronounce.’ he said,
‘Well what did you call me then...you know, in your mind?’ She laughed at his embarrassment.
‘Harrisons girl’
‘Harrisons girl?’
‘Yes and that’s what I’ll call you from now on.’
‘Harrisons girl!’
‘Yes, I’ll abbreviate it to HG.’ He joked.
‘Okay!’ she laughed and kissed him on the cheek. Her closeness excited him.
‘Let’s go!’
Without a word they left, in her room she turned towards him, the soft lamplight glowed from behind as she offered him her lips, and really kissed him, her hair caressed his cheek as the light shone through its soft dark strands.
Ennis returned to Ang’s sometime after two. He left her filled with the confidence of lovers, who knew that they would be together again soon.
She was leaving on an early morning flight to Kota Kinabulu, where he promised they would again meet in a week. Ennis slept deeply, with the perfume and softness of Harrisons’ girl drifting into his dreams. The next morning he was woke by the ringing of the phone.
‘Hallo John it’s me!’
‘Hallo HG,’ he said sleepily.
‘I’m leaving now, I’m thinking about you.’
An hour later he was awoken from a deep sleep by a noisy call from Joe, informing him that he would be at the hotel at nine for their visit to the collection at the Brunei Museum at Kota Batu.