The Singapore Saga: The Story Begins

By Kelvin White

Life is idyllic for Spencer Marlowe, a successful Millennial marketing guru, living the dream in Perth, Western Australia. Good-looking, fit, and self-assured, Spencer is fascinated by Japanese culture, fluent in the Japanese language, and passionately in love with his Japanese girlfriend, Michiyo. He's also a formidable karate expert who just c

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kelvin White
• Release date: Nov 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9780648910961

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The Singapore Saga

The Story Begins

by

Kelvin White

Copyright © 2022 Kelvin White

First published in Australia in 2021

by Kelvin White

[e-mail]

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

Printed by:

Ingram Spark

https://www.ingramspark.com/

(PB) ISBN: 978-0-6489109-5-4

(EB) ISBN: 978-0-6489109-6-1

Edited by: Red Room Editing

Interior design by: Red Room Editing

Cover design by: Red Room Editing

This book is dedicated to my two beautiful granddaughters, Amelia and Madeleine Gething.

By the same author

Spencer Marlowe series:

The Hawaiian Intervention

Co-author of:

Oh How We Rocked

Preface

The concept of The Singapore Saga had been floating around in my head for several years.

Time travel adventures have been a staple of writers for generations. It is easy to say, ‘ho hum, another time travel yarn’ however, I see this concept as an extraordinarily broad canvas with limitless possibilities to explore time and place in human history.

Spencer Marlowe is a millennial who is smart, articulate, and strong, with advanced martial arts skills. This novel is an imaginary tale of how such a man would deal with the differences in attitudes in a previous century where race and gender issues were sometimes strange and often cruel by today’s standards.

The writing of this novel started while I was staying at the Yulia Beach Hotel in Kuta, Bali. I found the restful surrounds conducive to creating interesting characters and plot.

When The Singapore Saga was finally completed, I found myself bereft and saddened that Spencer’s adventures had come to an end. This has led to several more instalments in the Spencer Marlowe time travel adventures.

Introduction

The similarities between the Taipan’s voyage in Singapore Saga and the very real, Operation Jaywick, undertaken during the Second World War, is intentional.

In Operation Jaywick, the captured Japanese fishing boat, the Krait, was sailed from the Exmouth Gulf in Western Australia. This highly secret and successful operation to destroy enemy shipping in Singapore Harbour on 26 September 1942 had two commanders, fourteen commandos, and also sailors transferred from the Z Special Unit, an allied group of reconnaissance and sabotage specialists.

The rest of Singapore Saga is pure fiction with a few facts thrown into the mix. Singapore’s former Prime Minister, Lee Kuan Yew, born Harry Lee Kuan Yew (1923-2015) was not involved in any such operation.

Colonel Harada is an entirely fictional character.

The account of the invading Japanese beheading a civilian and displaying his head as a warning to the Singaporeans actually happened.

Apart from the mention of actual historical figures, the rest of the characters in the Singapore Saga are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREe

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEn

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEn

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

CHAPTER FIFTY

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Epilogue

The Hawaiian Intervention

Prologue

CHAPTER ONE

PROLOGUE

Spencer Marlowe’s head jerked backwards. He opened his eyes and blinked as pain shot through his head and neck. The barrel of the Lee-Enfield army-issue rifle rubbing against his cheek had bashed his jaw as the truck hit a pothole in the road.

Spencer realised he’d dozed off. He observed the rest of the squad through lidded eyes. They sprawled on the truck benches and against each other—asleep—and apparently oblivious to the bumpy journey. None of them had much of an idea what the immediate future held for them. Neither the uncommunicative Sergeant Ignatius Kennedy, called Piggy behind his back, nor the self-absorbed Lieutenant Beinard, had been forthcoming when questioned. Travelling ahead in the olive-green support Chevrolet, they had kept themselves well apart from the squad. All Spencer remembered was they were heading for the Northam Army Training Camp.

According to the other recruits, it was May 1942. The Second World War had been raging for three years. He remembered something about being conscripted and facing a very serious reality; a reality in which all vestiges of his previous life would most probably be drummed out of him. He wondered how much longer this journey would last. The British Bedford truck was noisy and cold, and the Australian autumn night held the first hint of the coming winter chill.

He moved the rifle into a different position and dozed again, only waking when the Bedford slowed to a halt.

‘Ok, you lot, off the truck,’ Piggy yelled out. ‘It’s time for fun and games.’

I must leave again with aching heart,

Remember my love while we’re apart.

For across the great divide of time,

Ours will remain a love sublime.

Strangers’ voices may fill my ears,

Strangers’ faces trigger fears.

And years may pass at the whim of fate,

With no set end and no set date.

But though ‘cross a foreign world I roam,

Your love’s true light will guide me home.

‘My Michiyo’ Jennifer White

CHAPTER ONE

PERTH, AUSTRALIA, TWENTY FIRST CENTURY

Spencer awoke with a jolt. He glanced at his gold Rolex Datejust watch, a twenty-first birthday present from his late father. Four minutes past seven. He had a board meeting in the city at eight-thirty, and his head was pounding.

Beside him, his girlfriend Michiyo was beginning to stir. Spencer gazed at her through tired eyes and thought, as he always did, what a beautiful woman she was with her sleek black hair and delicate features.

He had met Michiyo three years earlier on a business trip to Tokyo. Spencer was in marketing. He often reflected on the miracle of their chance meeting and just how much she now meant to him. She had become his life.

‘Ohayo, darling,’ he whispered.

She smiled. ‘How did you sleep?’ she asked softly, her sleepy gaze taking in his face. ‘You look tired. Did the dreams return?’

Spencer hesitated. ‘Michiyo, you’re the only person I can confide in. And I certainly can’t hide anything from you. Yes, I had the dreams again last night. They were more vivid than ever before. And look…’ Spencer turned his face, exposing a bruise on his cheek.

Michiyo frowned. ‘Ooh, that looks nasty. How did that happen? Did you get up in the night and bang your face?’

‘That’s possible, I guess. But in my dream, it was caused by my rifle, pressing hard against my cheek. So, what do we make of that, eh?’ He searched her face. ‘I know, don’t say it. Even to me it seems crazy, but I feel like I’ve been transported into a 1940s Hollywood movie with a bad script. Only, I’m not an actor, but a real soldier.’

Michiyo looked back at him, her features clouding. ‘I don’t think you’re crazy, Spencer, but this is happening more and more often. It’s starting to affect your quality of life. What happened to my man who used to be up and dressed by six o’clock every day—even weekends—and ready to take on the world? Now you can hardly drag yourself out of bed in the morning.’ She stroked his face. ‘You must think about getting help. Perhaps it’s time to see a doctor.’

Spencer held her hand, ‘I’m having enough of a problem confiding in you, let alone a doctor. I just have to hope and pray the dreams stop.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I mean, what the hell do I tell a doctor or a bloody psych? Oh yes doctor, I have vivid dreams that seem very real. Then what, eh? Everyone has realistic dreams. How do I tell someone—anyone—these dreams are more real than…? And in the cold hard light of the day it sounds bloody ridiculous, even to me.’

‘But I’m worried about you,’ Michiyo continued, ‘and what you’re telling about these dreams. Their reality—or at least their reality to you—is simply not normal. You have to find a resolution.’

Spencer glanced at his watch. ‘I need to go to work.’

‘What about breakfast?’ Michiyo asked.

‘Well, I have just enough time for breakfast.’ He looked up.

‘Or…’

Michiyo smiled and seductively peeled off her t-shirt. The sight of her undressed stirred Spencer, as it always did, her slim lithe body and her beautiful full breasts, never failing to arouse him. Spencer forgot about his strange dreams.

He lay back and Michiyo slid across to him. ‘Kiss me.’

He cupped her face in his hands, and gave her a tender kiss.

‘We really should get married,’ he whispered.

CHAPTER TWO

EYES ONLY FOR EACH OTHER

An hour later, Spencer was sprawled on the bed with several travel brochures arranged in front of him. They’d been talking of a holiday to Hawaii for some time now, but Spencer was troubled. His recurring dreams had left him unsettled.

He sighed, and called out to Michiyo who was taking a shower. ‘Now I’ll be really late for work. What the hell.’

He heard her laugh. It made him feel immediately better.

‘Well, the day’s got off to a pretty good start,’ she called out.

‘Honey?’ Spencer raised himself from the bed and went over to lean against the door jamb of their ensuite. Michiyo was humming as she washed her hair.

‘I’ll do it,’ he said with conviction. ‘I’ll take your advice and book a doctor’s appointment.’

‘Well, that’s good, Spencer. You’ve made me happy today.’ Michiyo wiped the condensation on the shower glass and kissed her lips against it before returning to the water.

‘I mean it,’ Spencer persisted. ‘I’ll call as soon as I get into work.’

‘Don’t just say you’re going to do it. It’s important, ok? Remember our first meeting? When we met, I was downtrodden; pathetic really. You opened my eyes back then. You helped me change. It’s because of you, I’ve cast off the horrible sexist ways of Japan. Now it’s my turn to make sure you sort this problem out.’

Spencer remembered their first meeting only too well. And the officious, arrogant Harada and his dismissive attitude to Michiyo. He’d thought Harada very young to have what was obviously a senior position in the Japanese conglomerate.

‘Welcome Marlowe-san.’

This must be Harada. The man I’ve been assigned to impress.

Haughty, superior. What an unpleasant little bastard.

From the looks passing between his team, and their body language, everyone had taken an instant dislike to the man.

The tradition of exchanging business cards was observed.

‘Good morning, Harada-san. On behalf of my team, I’d like to thank you for your welcome.’

Harada had smiled back coldly.

After a flurry of bows, Spencer’s group had been hustled through the throng by security guards, who seamlessly parted the crowd. They arrived at an endless display of the latest gadgets and appliances Harada’s conglomerate marketed. Compact computers and noisy children’s electronic games were all on show. Spencer had been stunned by the vast array of technology, displayed on futuristic floats and accompanied by driving techno music. Fluoro-clad dancers bounced to a hypnotic beat, while a number of wait staff stood by attentively with trays of refreshments. The fragrant scent of sashimi, tempura, green tea, and yakitori wafted temptingly across the room.

Spencer was appalled when Harada snapped his fingers and a beautiful Japanese girl appeared to greet them. The girl was dressed elegantly in a plain grey silk suit, with her hair in a ponytail, impeccable make-up and a gold watch adorning her slim wrist. But that was clearly where her confidence ended. The poor girl’s face was pale and drawn, her posture stooped, and her eyes reached no further than the floor.

Harada clicked again and the girl shuffled forward, her eyes still lowered.

‘Spencer-san, this is Michiyo. She’ll look after you and your team for the rest of the day.’

He couldn’t work out what exactly Harada exuded towards Michiyo. Was it hostility? Contempt? Jealousy even? Whatever it was, it was clear this beautiful young lady wasn’t in Harada’s good books.

Spencer had stumbled, tongue-tied, over his Japanese greeting.

‘Unfortunately, I must attend to some unexpected business,’ Harada interrupted. He’d bowed perfunctorily and exited the room within seconds.

‘Yeah, piss off you little prick,’ Spencer had muttered.

Spencer was relieved, and so it seemed was Michiyo. He’d seen her shoulders lift as she looked at him with warm, steady brown eyes. Spencer watched as Michiyo turned her gaze to the retreating figure of her boss. Was it relief? She’d smiled. They were silent for what seemed like several minutes. The pause had become awkward. He’d hesitated. In that instant, he knew there was an immediate and obvious attraction between them.

Eventually, Michiyo had spoken. ‘Harada’s late grandfather was revered by many of his old comrades and he … my boss, is an honoured guest at a reunion.’ Her upper lip curled.

‘I’m not at all sorry to be spending the afternoon with you.’

Spencer had been a little forward, but Michiyo had smiled, her cheeks tinged with a sudden rush of colour.

Just the same colour as now, he thought as she reached for her towel.

‘You’re still here.’ Michiyo spoke through the steam.

‘I’m just remembering how captivated I was with you when we first met. Still am.’

Michiyo smiled. ‘Not many Japanese men treat their wives or girlfriends with such respect. I’m still getting used to it.’ She picked up her hairbrush and started pulling it through her hair.

‘Have I told you that the very first day I met you, I knew we’d live happily ever after?’ Spencer continued.

‘You have, and I never get tired of hearing it.’

Spencer grinned. ‘I surprise myself. I’ve become a hopeless romantic.’

Michiyo stopped her brushing and turned to him. ‘I love you too, Spencer, you know that. Remember how my defences collapsed so quickly with you?’ She paused.

‘In fact, I was amazed they came down at all. I never thought I could trust a man again, after … well, after what that man … that predator put me through. I hate to talk about it, you know that.’

‘Harada was a leech. I was so happy his company dissolved amid that scandal—not surprised, of course. I wish he’d been punished for what he did to you, though.’

‘Sexual assault is commonplace in Japan, and the bastards virtually always get away with it. But I’m away from him now. That’s what matters most. To me anyway. I’m here with you, now. My tall Australian.’ Michiyo smiled and touched his arm. ‘And to think, if I’d stayed in Japan, I could be married to a man who isn’t even interested in me as a person! Or my views, or my career. You give me so much. I’m truly grateful.’

‘No need. It’s everything you deserve. Your dreams are as important as anyone’s.’

CHAPTER THREE

DOMESTICITY

Later that afternoon, as he powered up Mill Street and into St Georges Terrace, Spencer admired the beautiful Swan River in his rear vision mirror. He thought, once again, what a pleasant city Perth was, and how near-perfect his life.

He’d recently discovered an FM station specialising in music from the 1930s and ’40s. He’d fallen in love with the big swing bands. Blasting through the speakers at the moment was the distinctive drum introduction of Woody Herman’s classic, ‘The Golden Wedding.’

Spencer continued on past the old Barrack Arch, with Parliament House on his right-hand side. Up Malcolm Street and into Kings Park Road, he glided along the impressive, wide boulevard with its eclectic mix of new apartment buildings and the occasional old Edwardian home nestling discretely alongside. The splendour of Kings Park on his left always filled him with a sense of pride.

For the moment, his busy working day and the enjoyable drive home took Spencer’s mind off the dreams plaguing him. He stopped at his favourite liquor store. He felt the urge to relax and enjoy the evening with his lady. His frightening dreams now forgotten; he was feeling quite festive. I think a crisp chardonnay. Perhaps something from Margaret River?

Spencer loaded a case of wine into his car. He drove through the charming older suburbs, resisting the temptation to unleash turbo charged horsepower. Driving along the tree-lined streets he admired the dignified homes with their impeccable gardens. It always took his breath away, to see the vast Indian Ocean as he crested the hill on Oceanic Drive. Their spacious split-level residence in the suburb of City Beach, with its sweeping views always managed to wash away the tensions of the day. He soaked up the vista, breathing in the familiar tang of the salt air.

An only child, he’d been the sole beneficiary of his late father’s estate, just enough to purchase his 1970s sprawling Mediterranean home. His Italian mother had passed away several years before. He knew she would have approved of the subtle Italianate touches.

Both he and Michiyo loved the ocean, spending as much time as their busy work schedules allowed, either swimming or going for walks on the pristine white sands of the stunning beach so popular with the people of Perth.

Spencer pointed the BMW up the circular drive to the polished timber, double doors, gliding to a halt. He hoisted the wine out of the car and entered the house, slamming the door shut with his foot.

‘Beach!’ he shouted. ‘I’ve had enough of all work and no play, how about you?’

‘I’m in the middle of preparing dinner. But it can wait. You can damn well help when we return.’

‘It’s still light outside. Quick stroll on the beach. You can tell me about your day.’

It was only a kilometre to the beachfront. Michiyo hopped into the car, barefoot, he pressed the ignition. The BMW leapt forward. Momentarily putting his foot down, Spencer felt the surge as the turbo kicked in. There was a squeal of protesting rubber as the tyres bit into the bitumen. Sheer exhilaration etched across his face; Spencer smiled like an actor in a tooth paste commercial. Michiyo put her hand on his arm. ‘That’ll be enough of the boy racer, thank you.’

They walked hand in hand, taking in the slowly setting sun, the occasional beach-fisherman, and the ever-present surfers, The salt air caressed their nostrils. The crisp, white sand lay unbroken except for the occasional dark green seaweed, displayed in lengths like a sarong.

Michiyo and Spencer both had a year-round love affair with the beach. In winter, it harboured dark, mysterious currents that could snuff the life out of a foolhardy swimmer, but in the summer it was sparkling, a paradise of glistening, white sand and turquoise water.

‘How was your day? I guess you had some more fun with the Tokyo bigwigs?’ Spencer asked.

‘Today was all go. Some things never change. There was one jerk from head office who thought it was ok to put his hand on my knee.’

‘Seriously?’

‘No kidding. Then I accidently knocked his coffee into his lap. Oh, and I apologised in my best submissive Japanese manner. I just loved the submissive bit. You should have seen me. What a performance. My boss Yamada knew exactly what happened. He apologised profusely too, but then gave me a knowing wink. That stupid jerk with his wet pants just didn’t know what to say or where to look.’

Michiyo worked as a personal assistant to the Chief Executive Officer of the Matsu Mining Corporation. Their business was iron ore and gold, and there was plenty of both in Western Australia. Bilingual and smart, Michiyo had soon adapted to the brutal cut and thrust of the mining industry.

‘Honestly, some of the visiting board members are such jerks,’ Michiyo continued. ‘At times I have to control myself. Their sexist ways might be ok in Tokyo, but this is Australia and it’s just not on. I can’t believe what I used to put up with. And when I think of that slimy bastard Harada getting away with what he did, and then having to put up with him … as if nothing happened…’

Her eyes glistened. Spencer held her closer. ‘Michiyo, I know this is hardly compensation, but there is such a thing as karma. What goes around comes around.’

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure he really believed in the whole karma thing, but he sure hoped it was real for Michiyo’s sake. When Michiyo had arrived in Australia, Spencer had no real plans for the future, but he’d since come to the realisation this wonderful and multi-layered lady was truly the love of his life, and she deserved at least some kind of closure on the whole disgusting business.

‘When I think about my dealings with that slimy bow-legged bastard. If I’d had any idea just what he’d done I’d have beaten the little prick to a pulp.’

‘Now, Spencer. You always tell me your training is only to be used in self-defence.’

Michiyo was right. Karate trained a practitioner to be peaceful. Spencer knew that only too well. He’d learnt karate from a young age. For Spencer it was more than just a martial art. For him, it was a whole philosophy on life, but he struggled when his anger surged.

Spencer’s thoughts turned from Harada to his strange dreams. He wondered if the approaching night would again thrust him back into that other time or world, which had him beginning to doubt his sanity.

‘Did you call the doctor today?’ Michiyo’s question broke the silence.

‘No, not today. I will Monday. Honest.’

‘You know, you sometimes have a haunted look I find frightening. You can’t go on like this. I can see it’s tearing you apart.’

Spencer didn’t know what else to say. They continued walking, arms now linked, waves lapping at their feet.

‘You said the dreams vary in intensity,’ Michiyo prompted.

She was obviously determined not to let it drop.

‘Do you have any warning or idea when they’re going to happen?’

‘Well…’ Spencer thought about it for a moment. Perhaps talking about the dreams would help, although he hated to show Michiyo his weakness. ‘That’s the curious thing. The day before I have these dreams, all the colours around me are… All I can say is that the colours are well … sort of … brighter … more defined.’

‘Describe to me more,’ Michiyo said, her expression intrigued.

‘It’s hard to explain, but I’ll try. So, the colour of the sky is a deeper blue, the ocean is a more intense turquoise. I’m looking at the ocean right now and I know it’s not the same colour you’re seeing. Even though it’s still blue. I ask you, does that make sense?’

Spencer ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. ‘Ok, so looking at the colours around me now, I know tonight’s dreams are going to be … I was going to say intense, but really that word doesn’t come close to explaining the reality of the experience. Consuming might be a better word. In fact, it’s fair to say, I’m actually afraid of going to sleep. Look, I know everybody has dreams that seem real at the time … but … all I can say is these dreams are beyond real, they’re … shit, here I go again. They’re absolutely real. I wake and