‘Oh no,’ Henry whispered, grinning. ‘You’ve attracted the attention of Millie. God help you.’
‘Who is she?’ Tom asked, looking at the woman, feeling a flush creeping up his cheeks.
‘Oh, she’s the wife of Sir James Atherton, the senior judge on the island. I have to warn you about her, Tom – she eats young men for breakfast.’
Tom watched as the woman pushed back her chair and languidly wandered over to their table. He could not help noticing that her black cocktail dress was cut very low and clung tightly to her curves. She stood, eyeing the men with unconcealed amusement, blowing smoke rings towards them.
‘So, who have we here, Henry? A new recruit to our little band of merrymakers?’
‘Yes, Millie. Allow me to introduce you to Tom. Tom Ellis. He started work this week at the estate. He’s moved into the bungalow next to mine. Tom, this is Millie. Millicent Atherton.’
Tom stood up, feeling self-conscious, and held out his hand to the woman. She took it and raised it to her lips, all the time watching him, an amused look dancing in her grey eyes.
‘Enchanted to meet you, Tom,’ she said, ‘We don’t often get good looking young men coming our way nowadays. We’ll certainly have to make the most of you.’
On the drive back to the estate, Henry had given him some advice: ‘I saw the way Millie looked at you, Tom. She won’t be able to keep away. But a word of warning, old man … Don’t let her get to you. She’s as hard as nails under all that superficial charm. A couple of unfortunates made the mistake of falling in love with her, and they regret it. She’s heartless, believe me. She sees love as a sign of weakness.’
Tom stared ahead at the road and the rubber trees that lined it, grey and ghostly in the arc of the headlights. He wondered fleetingly if Henry was speaking from experience.
One evening, not long after that first trip to the Penang Club, Tom heard the roar of an engine outside his house, the crunching of tyres on the gravel drive leading into his bungalow. He wondered briefly if it was Henry, but it would be unusual for him to drive. Henry normally walked the couple of hundred yards between their bungalows.
The houseboy showed the visitor through to the veranda.
‘Lady Atherton, Tuan,’ he said, beaming broadly at being able to introduce a guest at last.
Tom got to his feet and shook her hand, feeling self-conscious.
‘Lady Atherton. What a pleasant surprise. Would you like a drink?’
‘Very much so.’ She sat down. The boy served them drinks, and they made small talk for a while. She asked him how he was settling in, and told him some trivial news of other expatriates on the island. She had a clever and entertaining way of telling anecdotes, and when she listened to him, she made him feel as if she found him irresistible, as if his words were truly enthralling. He wondered why she had come over to see him.
At last she put down her glass and said, ‘Well, I must be pushing along now, but I came here to ask you something. My husband and I are having a small dinner party next Saturday evening. I would very much like you to come. Oh, here’s an invitation. That makes it official.’ She fumbled in her bag and handed him a large white envelope.
He drew out a card embossed with silver writing: ‘Sir James and Lady Millicent Atherton request the pleasure of your company at High Tops …’
Tom could think of no reason to refuse. He had very little to do in the evenings and, if he was honest with himself, was beginning to tire of spending them alone on the veranda, however beautiful the view.
As Millicent said goodbye, she held his hand to her lips. She said, looking at him through lowered lashes, ‘I must say, I am very much looking forward to making your acquaintance properly, Mr. Ellis.’
She kissed his hand, and after she had gone he had noticed the deep red stain of her lipstick on the back of his hand. It gave him an odd thrill to see it there. That evening, when he took his shower in the bath house under the bungalow, he was careful not to wash the stain off his hand.
The dinner party was a sumptuous occasion. The Athertons lived in a gracious colonial mansion on the outskirts of Georgetown. As Tom drew into the drive, he saw that the whole house was lit up with strings of fairy lights. A procession of motor cars was drawing up at the front steps, disgorging the passengers and moving on; the guests then mounted the steps to the glittering colonnaded porch and were greeted by their hosts.
In the panelled library, bearers in starched white uniforms carried about trays of drinks and canapés. The guests were of all shapes and sizes, from the richest plantation owners down to the humblest nurses and civil servants. Tom found himself chatting with an earnest young woman with ginger hair and a freckled face. She was a missionary, she told him, and worked in a Christian school in a village up in the hills. She blinked a lot as she spoke. Tom noticed that she was drinking barley water.
His eyes met Millicent’s as she made her way towards him. She looked stunning in a white sequinned evening dress, her neck sparkling with diamonds. She introduced Tom to her husband, Sir James.
‘This is Tom Ellis, darling. He’s just started working for United Rubber as an overseer, but in real life, rumour has it that he is a lawyer.’
Tom was startled. How had she found that out?
She gave him a teasing smile. She knew what he was thinking. ‘News travels in mysterious ways in the East. You’ll soon get used to it,’ she laughed.
‘A fellow lawyer? And why did you give it up?’ asked Sir James.
‘Well, the work was really rather
