Free The Shallow Seas by Dawn Farnham

tight-fitting bodices and batik sarongs, brought tea and a silver and brass sireh set. Kneeling, they deftly took the leaf of the betel tree in their long, supple fingers, cut a slice of areca nut, added lime paste and condiments from the little containers on the tray, rolled the quids expertly and handed one, first to Tigran, then to Charlotte. Both girls wore hibiscus flowers in their hair and cast deep, coquettish glances at Tigran. Charlotte, remembering Takouhi’s words about the village girls’ liking for the white master, could not quite dismiss this as fancy.
    Tigran hardly appeared to notice them. Their lips were stained a pinkish red, from the sireh , Charlotte knew, with a mounting apprehension. Tigran took the quid of sireh and placed it in his cheek, holding it there and nodded to Charlotte to do the same. She had seen the Indian money-lenders in Singapore chew on this sireh , noticed the reddened lips and teeth of the Chinese Nonyas and the Malays but had never thought of trying it herself. Truthfully, she thought it quite disgusting: the red mouth, the red spittle. Now she was expected to put it in her mouth! Tigran saw her hesitation and murmured to her,
    â€œPut it inside the cheek only, do not chew. After the visit we can get rid of it, but not to accept is an insult. Sorry, Charlotte; I should have warned you.”
    Tigran looked so crestfallen that Charlotte screwed up her courage and quickly, without allowing another thought to enter her head, put the quid inside her cheek.
    The headman was squatting in front of them, chewing his own wad with obvious pleasure. A period of silence ensued as tea was offered. Charlotte thought she might choke. The taste was everything at once; bitter and sweet, fizzingly hot, peppery and yet tangy with tinges of chocolate mixed with what she could only imagine would be the taste of soil after rain. Even though she was not chewing, she could feel the wad become a grainy mash, sticking to her teeth and gums. She had begun to salivate and swallow, breaking out into a sweat. As Tigran and the headman chatted amiably, she thought she might gag and put her hand on his arm. He turned and saw her face, rose and brought a brass spittoon to her. She looked at him, distressed, and spat out the mixture as delicately as was possible under the circumstances, wiping her mouth with her handkerchief. He, seeing her embarrassment, shielded her from the prying eyes of the villagers who were seated on the ground in front of the pavilion. Then, turning back to the headman, he spat out his wad, noisily, distracting the attention from her.
    Tigran handed Charlotte the tea and she drank, clearing her mouth. When he saw her relief, he sighed and rose, taking his leave quickly.
    Regaining their shoes, Tigran looked so serious that Charlotte said, “I am well, Tigran, but perhaps I should not try that again.”
    â€œI am sorry, Charlotte. I don’t enjoy this makan sireh , either, but I am used to it. If you live here, it cannot be avoided. But there is no need for you to do it again. We have done our duty to the kampong . I have invited them to our wedding celebrations. They have had a look at this white madam who I intend to marry and now can gossip for weeks. The headman will inform all the other villages on the estate.”
    He looked shyly down.
    â€œI hope you do not mind me showing you off.”
    Charlotte took his hand as she climbed back into the carriage. “Tigran, I do not mind anything you do, other than offer me another betel quid! I, too, want to feel at home here.”
    Her words affected him like a heady wine, and he repaid her with a smile of delight. Tigran climbed into the carriage and took the reins. He hesitated slightly, then turned to her.
    â€œCan you drive, Charlotte?” he asked.
    She was taken aback. Actually she had never driven a carriage, was somewhat afraid of the horses. Tigran put the reins in her hands and covered them with