They walked on, Hyde-Underwood with them again.
‘Were all these trees planted by your grandfather?’ Evie asked Douglas, sweeping her hands towards the hillside which was covered with terraces of rubber trees as far as she could see.
Instead of answering, he jerked his head to Hyde-Underwood, who responded. ‘The trees only last thirty years. Then we have to replant. It’s a big part of the job – raising seedlings, cultivating, planting saplings.’ He explained how the old trees were poisoned and cleared away to make room for new ones.
The last stop on the tour was to see workers chopping away undergrowth beneath a row of trees, clearing the ground and revealing the drainage ditch that ran down the space between the rows. The men were hacking through the vegetation with large curved-bladed knives which Hyde-Underwood told her were called perangs.
Hyde-Underwood suggested they head back to the bungalow for tiffin, when a cry went up from one of the men. ‘Ular!’ The whole group began shouting ‘Ular’.
Hyde-Underwood moved forward but Douglas grabbed Evie’s arm and held her back as most of the men scattered. ‘It’s a snake,’ he said.
Evie watched in horror as the largest snake she had ever seen emerged from the thicket and raced over the ground towards Hyde-Underwood. But one of the workers was ready for it, slashing at it with his perang in a frenzied attack.
Douglas shouted something in Tamil or Malay and the man stepped away leaving the snake in pieces on the ground.
‘Probably dead with the first blow, but they like to hack them apart. Their idea of sport I suppose.’
Evie felt sick. She looked at her husband. ‘Was it dangerous?’
‘Not usually to humans. It’s a python. Must be ten feet long.’
Her stomach churned, adrenaline coursing through her, but tinged with disgust at the savage nature of the worker’s attack. ‘A python? Don’t they crush you to death?’
‘They grab their victims in their coils then swallow them whole.’
Evie shuddered. ‘What sort of victim?’
‘Maybe a deer or a rat,’ said Hyde-Underwood. ‘They have no venom. It looks like this one had just had his tiffin.’ He picked up a stick and poked at the side of the dead snake, rolling it over to reveal a large protuberance in the middle. ‘A small deer I expect.’
Evie turned away. ‘How horrible. Would the creature have been alive when it was swallowed?’ She imagined the animal one minute prowling through the undergrowth and the next being swallowed into the dark interior of a python’s belly.
‘Doubt it would have known it was happening. They’re fast, pythons. They attack by ambush and before the prey knows it, they’ve been wrapped in the coils and death’s pretty instant. Heart failure, a zoologist chap once told me.’ He shouted something to the men and they kicked the carcass away and turned back to the task of clearing.
‘Why did they kill it then?’
‘Provides a few minute’s entertainment. Breaks up the day.’ He shrugged. ‘Better get back to the Mem. She’ll not be happy if I return you late for tiffin.’
10
Back at the bungalow, the four ate lunch quickly. The Hyde-Underwoods gave no further hint of surprise at Douglas’s sudden nuptials. Mrs Hyde-Underwood directed polite enquiries to Evie, who kept her responses minimal, wary of giving too much of herself away. In turn, Evie established that the Hyde-Underwoods were both from Yorkshire and Reggie had been in Malaya for eight years, with his wife joining him after three.
When the silent Malay servant had cleared the plates away, Douglas and Reggie left for the estate office to talk business and Mrs Hyde-Underwood led Evie outside.
‘I’m preventing you having your nap.’ Evie apologised.
‘I rarely sleep in the afternoons these days.’ The woman patted her stomach. ‘This little creature makes sure of that. Always very boisterous in the afternoon. I usually sit in the shade on the veranda and try to read or sew. And it’s nice to have company. We’re very isolated up here and these days we don’t often get into town.’
They walked to the rear of the bungalow, into a kitchen garden with vegetables growing in orderly rows.
‘The kebun is glad my pregnancy is forcing me to take things easier. He’s been less than happy to have the mem muscling in on his territory.’
Evie realised she was referring to the gardener and made a mental note to add the word kebun to her small but growing Malay vocabulary.
‘I’ve always loved gardening and there’s so little to occupy one up here, but all the bending over is a bit of a problem!’ She flashed a smile at Evie. ‘Do you enjoy gardening, Mrs Barrington?’
‘I’m ashamed to say I’ve never actually tried it. I grew up in London in one of those big town houses in a square with only a communal garden and more recently…’ Her voice trailed away. She didn’t want to reveal her former employment was as a lady’s companion. ‘I lived in a house with a gardener who resented anyone helping. And I wouldn’t have known where to start anyway.’
‘Exactly. Just as I said. They’re all the same these gardeners.’ Susan Hyde-Underwood wiped a hand across her brow, pushing her light brown hair away from her eyes. ‘And I must admit gardening in the tropical heat isn’t exactly fun.’ She placed her hands on her stomach. ‘In fact expecting a baby in this heat is also a bit of a trial.’
‘But it’s so much cooler up here than in George Town.’
Mrs Hyde-Underwood shuddered. ‘I don’t know how you stand it down there. We English roses wilt in all the humidity. Bad enough up here. The mozzies are terrible. Not to mention the stink bugs and flying ants. After a dry spell the floors are covered in their corpses. And you can end up with stink bugs floating about in your drinks. Revolting.’ Her mouth twitched
