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‘Now, Miss Roberts, you must excuse me. I have other clients waiting to see me. Some of them have quite serious matters to deal with.’
    I left his little office feeling quite chastened. My suspicion that Molly had directed my business to Dr Mahmood as a favour to him seemed particularly unworthy. It had in fact been the other way around. Dr Mahmood was a busy, competent professional who had taken me on pro bono as a favour to Molly.
    I was blushing a little as I walked through the crowded waiting room and down into busy Chulia Street. How easily we get things out of proportion, particularly our own importance in the scheme of things.
    But by the time I was sitting in the tram rattling down Argyll Street, with a glorious tropical sunset illuminating the air around me, I was beginning to feel quite pleased with myself. I had after all taken charge of my affairs, seen my first lawyer, and in a way stood up to my mother.
    I had even had the courage to intervene, in a modest way, to help the fierce-eyed but gentle Tamil revolutionary. The confidence given to me by my dream was proving real and durable. It seemed to me I was no longer a child but a confident young woman of the world.
    There was a cable waiting for me when I got home. It was from my mother, and was no more and no less than I had expected. Arriving Penang Tuesday stop Staying E&O Hotel stop Meet me there 4 PM stop Julia. No terms of endearment, just a summons specifying time and place. And not even signed ‘Mother’.
    I waved the message absently in front of my face, disappointed but not surprised. Then I frowned. The E&O was the centre of Penang’s social life, and I could hardly roll up wearing one of my cotton print sundresses. Apart from the social disgrace of such a faux pas , my mother would kill me. But four o’clock would be far too early to wear an evening dress, or even one of the simple cocktail dresses I had run up. That left only one alternative: my long-suffering school uniform. The uniform for the Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus was a cream cotton blouse, pale blue-and-gold tartan skirt, and long white socks. I hated wearing uniform out of term time, but that couldn’t be helped. It did need a wash and press, and my shoes could do with a fresh coat of brown stain . . .
    Preoccupied with these practical, mundane thoughts, I did not notice Irma until I turned and bumped into her. She had been standing just behind me, obviously trying to read the message as I flapped it in the air. It surprised me that she had not already opened the envelope herself. She had done that before.
    I took her reticence as a sign of my burgeoning status as an adult, and felt a heady surge of pleasure.
    â€˜It’s from my mother,’ I offered with a friendly smile. ‘She’s arriving tomorrow and wants me to meet her at her hotel.’
    Irma opened and shut her mouth, surprised at my easy friendliness. It completely disarmed her, and the cutting remark I read in her eyes died unborn.
    â€˜No doubt Mother will want to pay what is owing on my board,’ I said, following up my advantage. ‘Perhaps you might make up an account for me to give to her?’
    That night a storm lashed Penang, roaring in from the Malacca Straits and tearing down trees and power poles all over the island. Lying in my bed I flinched as bolts of lightning cracked viciously in the blackness and sudden bursts of rain thundered on the roof. The violence of the elements outside matched a growing turbulence within me as I wrestled with the thought of tomorrow’s meeting with my mother. I did not know what concerned me most – the prospect of an even stronger gust tearing the house apart or the thought of my mother’s face when I told her I had gone behind her back and seen a lawyer of my own. I had decided I would have to tell her everything, and as soon as possible, because I was absolutely determined that Burnbrae would not be sold. I