Free Spirit Tiger by Barbara Ismail Page B

dismissed her objections, and Rubiah, as she often did, decided to let it go rather than argue.
    Puteh’s place was not far from where both Maryam and Rubiah lived, but this was not where the owners of the kain songket emporia lived, or even the successful sellers of fabrics. This was smaller, cheaper, flimsier, and Puteh’s house, though solid, still gave the impression it might collapse, given an excuse. The house was packed, with seven children and their parents. Suleiman was moping on the front porch, acting the part of an upright citizen home with his family. Puteh, Maryam surmised, was inside cleaning or cooking or caring for the children, which Suleiman would not have seen as his responsibility.
    The women hailed him as good neighbours and stood at the bottom of the ladder, watched by several small children distracted by the new arrivals. Suleiman removed the cigarette from his mouth and, acting as a benevolent host, gave them a large smile, beckoning them to climb the ladder and join him on the porch.
    â€˜Teh,’ he called into the house through the open door, ‘look who’s come here to see us! Get your mother,’ he ordered one of the boys peeking out through a window. He turned and indicated a place for the women to sit. He smiled jovially and produced a package of Rothman’s cigarettes, offering some to his guests. How could he afford that, Maryam wondered? She would never allow herself the luxury, though Mamat did, and she was far better off than Suleiman, who was living hand to mouth at best, Perhaps this was part of the whole gambler’s attitude: living on dreams and hope rather than on the money you actually had.
    Suleiman’s wide smile was pasted firmly on his face, overlaying the fear he felt seeing these two prominent Mak Cik come to see him. He was no longer a child, he continued to remind himself, and could not be summarily scolded, but part of him dreaded it nevertheless. He believed he could read the judgement in their eyes, that they disapproved of him and all he had done, and his coming back to Puteh was not a mark in his favour, but only the last option of a man at the end of his tether. Reprimanding or not, he could do nothing more than entertain them as best he could. He looked nervously for Puteh, hoping she could carry this off better than he could: they would not consider her at fault.
    â€˜When did you get back?’ Rubiah inquired sweetly, causing Suleiman to blush bright red and stare at his feet. What did he have that two women wanted him? She couldn’t imagine.
    â€˜Yesterday,’ he mumbled, thinking the lecture was now at hand.
    Rubiah would not be constrained by decency. ‘So, you left Khatijah now?’
    He nodded cautiously, unwilling to set her off.
    â€˜And Puteh’s taken you back?’
    â€˜What else can I do with seven children?’ Puteh answered spiritedly as she walked out the door. ‘They need a father.’ Even this one, she implied, but it remained unsaid. ‘ Mak Cik , let me get you something. You must be hot! Come, don’t sit in the sun, cool off in the shade.’
    She shooed them over to a shady corner as if they were well-dressed chickens, giving her husband a look clearly ordering him out of the way. He sloped out of the shade into the less desirable sun, squinting against the light while trying to seem soigné. Puteh gave rapid-fire orders to her oldest daughter, then turned amiably back to her guests.
    â€˜So nice to see you.’
    â€˜And you too, and I’m happy it’s in better times,’ Rubiah said with a significant look towards the lightly sweating Suleiman. ‘I can’t tell you how glad I am to see that everything is back to normal.’
    Puteh smiled and shrugged. What can you do, she implied, when you’re already graced with seven children and no income? At least with him back, it was always possible he might make some money and actually bring it