preferable company. She had chatted
with him for a few minutes, but the next time he saw her again in her favourite
shady nook, she chatted less and smiled less, afraid to appear encouraging.
A curious thought occurred to her: Meeta and
Winnie were close friends by default only. The tenuous bond of their similarity
in status would break as soon as one found a partner and waved a cheery goodbye
to the other. The co-dependence would sunder even more dramatically if one
stole the boyfriend of the other. Then another thought occurred and made her
smile, in the gratification of vanity: the supreme irony, part of the
hunter-hunted paradox, of eager women being ignored and completely indifferent
women, like herself, being pursued.
Both their unhappy affairs behind them,
Meeta and Winnie turned to a new subject of interest, eliciting much noisy
protestation from Maria. ‘No, no! I don’t want to hear of it!’ she said,
stopping her ears against their remarks about the reasonably good-looking
Bernard Tan Boon Siong who, from his first seeing Maria in the compound of the
Church of Eternal Mercy, had eyes for nobody else.
Eight
‘There he is, under the tree, looking in our
direction. He’s coming towards us,’ said Winnie.
‘Alright Maria, prepare for another display
of gallantry from your knight in shining armour,’ said Meeta. ‘Shall Winnie and
I make ourselves scarce?’
‘No, no!’ cried Maria in alarm. ‘You stay
right where you are. Don’t you dare go away!’
The situation had taken on the childishness
that grown women, in a group, sometimes displayed in the invigorating game of
the hunted leading the hunter on a lively chase, and mobilising the help of
their friends to form a phalanx of protection against the persistent pursuer.
Meeta and Winnie were geared for the fray.
They sometimes helped out in the sale of
breakfast food for a charitable fund-raising activity in the compound of the
Church of Eternal Mercy, after the Sunday morning mass, seeing themselves,
non-Catholics, as doing a favour to Maria who saw herself, already beginning to
move away from the childhood faith, as doing a favour to her fervidly religious
mother who was in charge of the fund-raising. Maria, to preserve the peace at
home, accompanied her mother to the Sunday mass, as well as managed the
fortnightly breakfast stall for which, from the beginning, she had recruited
the help of the dependable Meeta and Winnie.
The two women, ever on the look-out for
interesting males even in church compounds where they were notably scarce, had
plenty of opportunity to observe Maria’s admirer who had as good as openly
declared himself. From the start, he featured in their lively debate about the
relative merits and demerits of the direct, unabashed male approach as opposed
to the deliberately hesitant, elusive one, both concluding that perhaps this
Bernard Tan Boon Siong was making himself too available, and hence less
desirable. He spoke amiably to all of Maria Seetoh’s friends and deferentially
to her elders, even the weak-minded Por Por who was sometimes brought along to
church, to give the maid some respite, but it was clear that all the attention
to others was but a hurdle to be quickly got out of the way to reach the prize
at the end. As soon as he managed to secure Maria Seetoh’s attention, or
whatever semblance of it was required by civility, all his senses were
galvanised into a state of fascinated concentration on that one object alone.
Everybody and everything else faded away into the background. This is most
embarrassing, thought Maria, I wish he would go away.
He had newly joined the parish, a single
eligible male clearly not averse to begin the chase and had, from the very
start, settled on Maria Seetoh. Maria’s prettiness, freshness of countenance
and openness of demeanour gave her the special attractiveness of a girl-child,
though she was already thirty-five. Bernard observed her keenly through her
every activity at the
with him for a few minutes, but the next time he saw her again in her favourite
shady nook, she chatted less and smiled less, afraid to appear encouraging.
A curious thought occurred to her: Meeta and
Winnie were close friends by default only. The tenuous bond of their similarity
in status would break as soon as one found a partner and waved a cheery goodbye
to the other. The co-dependence would sunder even more dramatically if one
stole the boyfriend of the other. Then another thought occurred and made her
smile, in the gratification of vanity: the supreme irony, part of the
hunter-hunted paradox, of eager women being ignored and completely indifferent
women, like herself, being pursued.
Both their unhappy affairs behind them,
Meeta and Winnie turned to a new subject of interest, eliciting much noisy
protestation from Maria. ‘No, no! I don’t want to hear of it!’ she said,
stopping her ears against their remarks about the reasonably good-looking
Bernard Tan Boon Siong who, from his first seeing Maria in the compound of the
Church of Eternal Mercy, had eyes for nobody else.
Eight
‘There he is, under the tree, looking in our
direction. He’s coming towards us,’ said Winnie.
‘Alright Maria, prepare for another display
of gallantry from your knight in shining armour,’ said Meeta. ‘Shall Winnie and
I make ourselves scarce?’
‘No, no!’ cried Maria in alarm. ‘You stay
right where you are. Don’t you dare go away!’
The situation had taken on the childishness
that grown women, in a group, sometimes displayed in the invigorating game of
the hunted leading the hunter on a lively chase, and mobilising the help of
their friends to form a phalanx of protection against the persistent pursuer.
Meeta and Winnie were geared for the fray.
They sometimes helped out in the sale of
breakfast food for a charitable fund-raising activity in the compound of the
Church of Eternal Mercy, after the Sunday morning mass, seeing themselves,
non-Catholics, as doing a favour to Maria who saw herself, already beginning to
move away from the childhood faith, as doing a favour to her fervidly religious
mother who was in charge of the fund-raising. Maria, to preserve the peace at
home, accompanied her mother to the Sunday mass, as well as managed the
fortnightly breakfast stall for which, from the beginning, she had recruited
the help of the dependable Meeta and Winnie.
The two women, ever on the look-out for
interesting males even in church compounds where they were notably scarce, had
plenty of opportunity to observe Maria’s admirer who had as good as openly
declared himself. From the start, he featured in their lively debate about the
relative merits and demerits of the direct, unabashed male approach as opposed
to the deliberately hesitant, elusive one, both concluding that perhaps this
Bernard Tan Boon Siong was making himself too available, and hence less
desirable. He spoke amiably to all of Maria Seetoh’s friends and deferentially
to her elders, even the weak-minded Por Por who was sometimes brought along to
church, to give the maid some respite, but it was clear that all the attention
to others was but a hurdle to be quickly got out of the way to reach the prize
at the end. As soon as he managed to secure Maria Seetoh’s attention, or
whatever semblance of it was required by civility, all his senses were
galvanised into a state of fascinated concentration on that one object alone.
Everybody and everything else faded away into the background. This is most
embarrassing, thought Maria, I wish he would go away.
He had newly joined the parish, a single
eligible male clearly not averse to begin the chase and had, from the very
start, settled on Maria Seetoh. Maria’s prettiness, freshness of countenance
and openness of demeanour gave her the special attractiveness of a girl-child,
though she was already thirty-five. Bernard observed her keenly through her
every activity at the
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