‘No. He has nothing to do with my decision.’
‘The man who ruined you has nothing to do with your decision?’
‘Nobody ruined me, Mrs Airton. I am responsible for my own actions. Henry has been … chivalrous throughout. You will not understand that, but what I feel in my heart for Henry is gratitude and respect, above all, gratitude.’
‘For giving you an illegitimate baby?’
‘I knew that you would not understand. Henry’s is a free spirit. He freed mine.’
Airton coughed. ‘This is all getting way above my head. As far as I’m concerned, the man is a cad, a liar, a seducer—and worse besides. He must also be some sort of Svengali if he has this hold on you still, after he’s mistreated you so abominably. Well, the opium may account for that.
‘I am merely a doctor and for me the question is a practical one. How to get you better again, off this habit. It won’t do you any good gallivanting round a strange land with little or no money and therefore no means to satisfy your addiction. The consequences, moral and physical, are too terrible to contemplate. And then there’s the question of the baby’s health. You intend this child to live, I suppose? For that we must ensure the health of its mother. You, my dear. And I can’t look after you if you’re attempting to run away from whatever furies are lurking in that silly head of yours on a railway train.
‘So, I’m not going to allow you to go to Tientsin tomorrow, and that’s that. And before you start telling me how responsible you are for your own actions—we’ve had enough of that modern twaddle, thank you very much—let me remind you that you are under twenty-one and therefore subject to the authority of your father. And since we are your appointed guardians in his absence, that means you will have to do what we tell you to do. And, my first instruction to you, young lady, is to take yourself down the hall to your room, go to bed and rest. Your treatment starts tonight. You’ve worked in the ward and you know how tough it’s going to be. But I’m here, and so is Nellie—who loves you, too, though you’re too much of a dolt to see that—and we’re going to see you through, and save your bonny bairn who, if I am not wrong, is the only innocent party in this tragic affair.’
‘He’s right, you know, my dear. We do care deeply for you, and we will look after you,’ added Nellie.
‘I will not be made an object of your charity or hypocrisy,’ said Helen Frances. Two red spots burned on her sallow cheeks.
‘Call it what you like, but I don’t see that you have a choice. It’s for your own good and the good of the child.’
‘My bastard,’ said Helen Frances.
‘Your baby,’ insisted Nellie.
Helen Frances opened her mouth to retort, but her face squeezed involuntarily, crumpling like a dried-out persimmon, and her shoulders began to shake. Sobbing, she threw herself at Nellie’s feet and clutched the hem of her dress. Her words came out in great gulps between her tears. ‘I beg you … I beg you … please … Be merciful … please … Let me go … I can’t … I can’t face it … My father … To-om … How can I…’
Nellie knelt down beside her, hugging her tightly, pressing her cheek fiercely against the hot, tear-streaked face, as if seeking by will-power alone to transfer her calm to the shaking girl. Helen Frances’s body jerked and shuddered in the death agony of her independence like a newly caught marlin drowning in air. Her sighs were like the whisper of a dying breeze heard through rigging at sea. At last the convulsions subsided. Nellie rested Helen Frances’s head against her broad bosom and began to stroke her hair. ‘There, there. There, there. It’ll all be fine. It’ll all be fine.’ Helen Frances, overcome, stared with round, bewildered eyes, a stunned fish netted in Nellie’s strong arms.
Nellie lifted her gently to a kneeling position. She grasped both hands tightly and looked commandingly into her face, forcing her to return the gaze. ‘Now, listen to me, girl. You must be strong. Stronger than you’ve ever been before. Yes, you will have to face your father, and your fiancé in due course, and it will be terrible for you, and for them. But that’s for another day. Now I’m going to take you to your room. Edward will give you—what you need. And then I want you to sleep.’
Helen Frances nodded submissively.
‘Good. That’s my girl.’
* * *
If the virtues of charity and forgiveness were having an airing at the Airtons’ mission, the trumpets of a more martial Christianity were sounding in the Millwards’ establishment. Septimus had prayed and fasted, and was now in the figurative process of girding his loins to fight the good fight.
He had been thrown into temporary confusion after the visit of the commissioner of American missions, who had ordered him to desist from evangelical activities until the board had given judgement on his ‘case’. At first he had meekly succumbed to higher authority. It had taken him weeks to understand the terrible temptation by which the Devil had sought to snare him. It had come to him in a vision, shortly after he had collapsed from malnutrition; providentially that angel of mercy, his wife Laetitia, had obtained dispensation from the saints to allow him to break his fast and have a bowl of gruel. It had been in the fitful sleep following his meal, his wife and children gathered around his bed in prayer, that the Angel Gabriel had revealed to him in a dream the truth about the creature who had called himself Mr Burton Fielding. He knew that there was a real Mr Fielding; he had seen his name on correspondence and on the lists of board members printed at the bottom of pamphlets published by the Commission. That had not been the Burton Fielding who had visited Shishan, however. Septimus had been deceived by a Principality of Darkness, a demon sent by Lucifer in Mr Fielding’s form, to steer him from the true path of righteousness. It had been that simple, and he had been beguiled.
Now he had made atonement. He had continued his fast. He had beaten his flesh with rods—or, rather, he had allowed Laetitia to administer the chastisement, reprimanding her on occasion for her weakness when she did not deliver the blows hard enough. A fortnight later he had been granted another vision, the memory of which even now made him tremble with humility. God the Father had been present, but it was the Son Himself who had raised him to his feet, and bathed the wounds on his back—he knew then that he had been forgiven. The Saviour had afterwards arrayed him in silver armour, with cloak and greaves and a shining helmet, and in his hands He had placed a burning sword. St Michael had mounted him on a horse called Steadfastness, and a host of angels had been delegated to follow him into battle. On waking he knew what he had to do.
The problem was that he was so weak from his fasting that he could hardly stand, and it had taken all Laetitia’s care to restore him to something resembling his old strength. Even yet he was not fully recovered. He was subject to blackouts, and a curious array of spots would float before his eyes; cleaning his glasses did not help. Nevertheless he knew that he was ready. If the body was weak, his spirit was strong. The Lord of Hosts was with him.
And today was the day. He had roused his family early. Together they had prayed, and sung several hymns. Then they had gathered in the yard, all except one daughter, Mildred, who would remain to look after the orphans and babes. They carried nothing in their hands except rush torches fashioned into the shape of the Cross—since Hiram had left they had dispensed with the band. The Lord would provide them with all the other weapons they needed. In solemn and silent file, Septimus led them out of the gate and over the drains.
Before them lay the House of Babylon in which the Lord had revealed that his prodigal, Hiram, lay in bondage. Today Septimus would do battle with the forces of darkness; he would bring down the Temple of Abominations; he would free the good people of Shishan from their enslavement to the powers of evil. He might even save his son, Hiram, in the process but that was not so important.
* * *
The doctor had administered a measured dose of morphine and had left Nellie to put Helen Frances to bed. He had resumed his position by the mantelpiece, smoking his pipe. Nellie had sat with Helen
Frances until she was satisfied that the girl was asleep. Now Nellie, too, had returned to the sitting room. She slumped into her armchair, lay back and closed her eyes. ‘Oh, Edward,’ she murmured, ‘what are we to do?’
Airton was surprised and confused to see that she was crying. Clumsily he knelt beside her and took her hand.
‘I’ll be all right in a moment,’ she said, wiping her eyes. ‘It’s just that … oh, when I think of that poor, poor girl, it makes me want to…’
‘Manners is a monster,’ said Airton.
‘Oh, we’re all to blame. To think that this affair must have started under our own roof, when we were meant to be protecting her. I should have seen what was going on.’
‘You weren’t to know,’ said her husband.
‘I’ll never forgive myself,’ said Nellie. ‘And I shouldn’t forgive you either, you silly man, for not letting me know earlier what you suspected.’
‘I didn’t want to upset you,’ said Airton lamely.
‘That poor, poor girl. Can you imagine what she must have been through? She probably believes she hasn’t a friend in the world. Thank you,’ she said, taking the cup of tea, which her husband had poured for her. ‘It’s not that I can condone what she has done. She’s right in a way, you know, when she says it is her own responsibility. Even if she was led on by that unspeakable man. She has sinned, Edward, and brought hurt on herself and others.’
‘We mustn’t be too hard on her…’
‘Why ever not? She has been a vain, silly, headstrong girl, who has given way to lust and evil temptations. This will break the heart of her father, not to mention that noble fellow who has been foolish enough to want to marry her.’
‘I suppose there’s no question of that going ahead now.’
‘Helen Frances told me just now that her greatest shame and fear is that Tom will still want to marry her. She says that’s the main reason why she wanted to leave. He’s such a gentleman with all those stupid notions of self-sacrifice and doing the right thing. And he truly loves her. You can see it in his mooning expression every time he looks at her. He’s just the good-natured type of fool who would be prepared to bring up another man’s bastard.’
‘It would be wonderful if her child could be born in wedlock.’
‘The man who should be forced to marry her—at pistol point, if I had my way—is the Honourable Henry Manners. Let the two of them reap the fruits of their crime together. What did she say about looking after her own damnation? Let them both be damned together.’
Airton sighed. ‘You say these things, Nellie, but you don’t mean them.’
‘I’m sorry, Edward. I’m tired, and I’m angry. With her. With myself. With you. What a ghastly, ghastly tragedy it is.’
They sipped their tea.
‘We’ll have to break the news to Frank and Tom as soon as they return,’ said the doctor, in the hesitant tone of somebody who would like to be contradicted.
‘Can we hide it from them?’
‘I suppose not,’ said Airton.
‘Can you cure her of her addiction?’
‘Yes. With time.’
‘And the bairn? Will the mother’s addiction harm it?’
‘It need not be so. If Providence is on our side I hope that we can avert the worst effects. It’s still early in the pregnancy.’
‘Let’s trust to Providence, then. And pray for some degree of forgiveness and understanding from her father and Tom.’
‘Amen to that,’ said Airton, putting down his cup. ‘Whatever is that noise?’ He moved to the window and peered through the shutters. At that moment Ah Lee burst through the doorway, followed shortly after by Jenny and George, who had tumbled out of their schoolroom and into the yard at the first sound of the disturbance. Ah Lee was pointing inarticulately. It was George who cried out first: ‘Father, come quickly. It’s Uncle Frank. They’re back, and I think that Tom is wounded. He’s covered in blood, and he’s lying on the cart not moving. Maybe he’s been killed.’
* * *
‘Whatever is it?’ muttered an irritable Mother Liu, woken from her afternoon siesta by the tapping on her door. ‘Come in, then,’ she barked angrily. ‘Oh, it’s you. What do you want?’
‘I’m sorry, Mother, I’m so sorry,’ squealed Su Liping, nervousness mixed with excitement on her coquettish face. ‘I hope I’ve not disturbed you.’
‘Of course you’ve disturbed me. What is it? It must be something important or you wouldn’t have dared. Out with it.’
‘It’s foreigners, Mother. They’re in the square outside and they’re making a demonstration against our house.’
‘Are you mad? What foreigners?’
‘The funny ones, Mother. The missionaries dressed in Chinese clothes, with all the children. They’re trying to break into the noodle shop downstairs.’
‘The noodle shop? Our noodle shop? All right. I’m coming. Help me with my slippers. Where’s Ren Ren?’
‘I don’t know, Mother. I think he went out. He made me go with one of his friends before lunch, that horrible Monkey, and before we were finished he came in and told Monkey to get dressed, saying something about having to go to some village. They left immediately and I didn’t even get a tip although I did the Wild Duck Flying Backwards position for him, and the Butterflies Fluttering.’ She pouted.
‘Never mind all that. Did he say how long he would be away?’
‘No, Mother, but I think it could be a long time. He was dressed in travelling clothes and he wore leggings for riding a horse.’
‘And what about his other men? Here, pull, girl, a girdle doesn’t tie itself on. Where are his other men? The ones I told him to keep watch on this house.’
‘I think they’ve all gone. They seemed to be in an awful hurry.’
‘You mean there’s no one left here? No men left here at all?’
‘Well, there’s the porter, and the cooks, and Chen Meina is with the fat draper from Shuangqian Street, and Xiao Gen is with the two old twins who come to her once a week to do the Cat and Mouse Sharing a Hole, and—’
Mother Liu, her face purple with anger, slapped the girl hard on the cheek. Su Liping screeched and burst into tears. ‘Mother, why did you hit me?’ she wailed. ‘What have I done wrong?’
‘Shut up and let me think,’ snarled Mother Liu. ‘I am surrounded by idiots. The biggest is apparently my own son. Leave that,’ she snapped, pulling her girdle away from Su Liping’s fumbling fingers.
Half dressed she hobbled to the door, Su Liping tottering after her. Their lotus feet made progress difficult, but Mother Liu’s anger drove her forward and along the corridor at a trotting pace. She paused by one of the doors and put her eye to the spyhole. Inside the foreign boy was sitting on the bed, one leg manacled by a chain to the post. His face was alert, one hand to his ear. She became aware of a dull murmuring sound coming from outside the building. Mother Liu grunted, and moved on. At the end of the corridor a window looked out onto the square. It was high on the wall, so Mother Liu had to enlist Su Liping’s help to get on to a bench, which allowed her the elevation to raise the paper-covered window on its hinges and peer outside. There was an immediate welling up of the roar of the crowd, and she could identify shouts, laughter and jeers.
Su Liping had climbed up beside her and pointed. ‘There they are, Mother, right below us. Do you see them?’
A large mob of layabouts had surrounded the Millward family, mocking them as they formed a half-circle on their knees in prayer. Mother Liu saw that each of the foreigners was holding up a cross apparently made of straw. The father, a tall, skeletal figure, with an unkempt yellow pigtail and beard, was muttering some sort of incantation in a reedy voice. There was a woman beside him looking up at him with a worried expression. Some of the children, ranging in all sizes from gangly youth to small toddler, had their eyes tightly closed, others were gazing round at the crowd in sheer terror. Strangely, half of them, including the parents, seemed to be wearing pebble spectacles, which g
linted in the afternoon sunlight.
‘They look harmless to me,’ said Mother Liu.
‘They were shouting at our house earlier. It is difficult to understand their funny Chinese, but the man was saying something about a lost son. Living here.’ Su Liping looked at her mistress innocently.
‘Was he indeed?’ answered Mother Liu. ‘You know that’s nonsense?’
‘Oh, yes, Mother.’
‘Well, I’m not going to waste my afternoon looking at a bunch of mad foreigners praying, if that’s all they are doing. Help me down.’
‘Oh, look, Mother!’ screeched Su Liping.
Mother Liu glanced again, then froze. The tall skeletal man had reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a large green bottle. He carefully poured what appeared to be some sort of brown liquid onto his cross. Then he passed the bottle to his wife who did the same. Reaching into his belt, the man extracted two metallic objects which he beat together in his hands. With horror, Mother Liu saw the first spark. Within moments the man’s cross had ignited into a flame.
‘Get me down from here,’ she screamed, pulling at a startled Su Liping’s sleeve. ‘Get me down.’
In a moment she was hobbling at breakneck speed back along the corridor to where the curtain covered the secret doorway that led to the stairs.
‘Buckets!’ she yelled, as she reached the next floor. ‘Buckets! Water! Quickly!’ Doors opened and puzzled girls and a few startled clients emerged. One girl, stark naked, appeared like a nymph in a temple frieze flanked between two venerable but equally exposed old men, who were trying to cover their flaccid immodesties with their long white beards. A fat man dressed and made-up ludicrously in the costume of a female lead in Peking Opera was clinging to Chen Meina. ‘Don’t just stand there!’ screamed Mother Liu. ‘Find some buckets and water. They’re threatening to burn the building down.’
It was not a sensible thing to say. There was, of course, immediate panic. The next thing she knew was that she was being pummelled and pushed along in a scrum of bare flesh and bedclothes down the narrow, circular wooden staircase that led to the ground floor, landing in a tumble at the bottom and bumping her head on a vase. Dazed, she heard the patter as bare feet ran into the courtyard, the screams and shouts fading outside.
The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure Page 42