Free Her Master's Voice by Jacqueline George Page A

borrow the girls for the night. Or perhaps he could join the small party at the water’s edge, if the girls performed again tonight. Perhaps she ought to feel disapproving but instead she found herself feeling, well, a little jealous. They did not look like immoral sluts. They looked normal, and they behaved normally, without shame.
    They walked out to the beach after dinner. “Like to swim, Tim?” asked Alistair.
    “Yeah, it would be good on a night like this.”
    “I’m not going to change, no one can see anyway.” He said something to girls in Indonesian. They laughed and pretended to slap him. Then they pulled Sherry to her feet and went for their swimming costumes.
    Tim and Alistair sat silently together, as only men can. The three girls came chattering back, Sherry tall between the twins. It was hard to see but Faith and Hope wore dark one-piece suits. Sherry’s black bikini stood out against her white skin.
    “Look at sexy Sherry,” called the girls. “She so good, so sexy!”
    “Let’s go in,” she said and, throwing her towel down, ran for the water. The three girls called and splashed as Alistair stripped to white undershorts. Tim was less fortunate. He had no underwear. He had a choice of spoiling his best shorts or nothing. He decided to sacrifice the shorts.
    He was surprised at Sherry’s closeness. As they sat in the shallow water enjoying the milk-warm waves lapping past them, she came to sit between his legs.
    Sherry left the girls to cuddle up to Alistair. She did not want Tim to go near them in the sea at night.
    They said farewell under the palms and shook hands all round. Tim and Sherry would leave early next morning. The girls offered small limp hands. Alistair’s handshake felt more western. He leant forward to kiss Sherry’s cheek. “Say hello to Ranji for me,” he whispered.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 8
     
    Sherry felt sad to be leaving Pulau Kelapa for Singapore. They reached the Johor Baru causeway after lunch and quickly got through the Malaysian side. For once, the Singapore checkpoint was more difficult and their car was pulled over for inspection. Immigration took their passports and they carried their bags into the Customs shed to watch as two impeccable officers in white cotton gloves rummaged through their salty beach clothes. Up to that point things had seemed a little annoying, but basically normal. What happened next made Tim realise that more was going on.
    A police officer hurried into the shed with Sherry’s passport. “You may leave, Mrs Armstrong,” he said. “Mr. Armstrong will come with me.”
    “What?” she said in shock.
    “You may take your bags and leave,” he said a little more insistently. “Mr. Armstrong is needed in town.”
    It slowly dawned on Tim that Hing must be behind this. The policeman handed their bags to Sherry. “Please to go, Mrs Armstrong,” he said, more an order than a request. Sherry was confused, lost, not wanting to leave Tim.
    “It’s OK, love,” Tim said. “I think I know what this is about. I shouldn’t be with them long.”
    “What is it? What have you done? Why do they want you?”
    He tried to smile and look reassuring. “It’s just some idiot policeman in New Bridge Road. Chasing rainbows. I shouldn’t be long.”
    “Is that right?” she asked the policeman. “What has he done?”
    “Yes, yes, short time only. Now you go!” The policeman was far from calming her but one of the Customs men had taken her by the elbow and led her away. The other carried their two bags, something unheard of.
    “Don’t worry, love. Drop off the car and I’ll call you at home.” The policeman led him away, out to the back of the Customs shed to the car park where a paddy wagon waited, a small Japanese pick-up with a tin box mounted on the tray. Still surprised, Tim allowed himself to be pushed into the cage and sat on a wooden bench running down the side. The door clanged shut and through the cut-out for the bolt he