The classroom was a large room in the house. It had a blackboard and book-lined shelves, and three desks and chairs, one of which was mine. Senhora Alveres had written out the last tutor’s notes so I had an idea which subjects to teach them, and the days soon passed. The classes began early in the morning, at eight o’clock, and continued until one o’clock, but if their mother was out then Ping Li and I would look after them well into the afternoon.
Ping Li adored the children, and she often came into the classroom and sat down. They loved listening to our stories of living in other countries and Ping Li told them all about growing up in Shanghai. She also taught them how to write down some words in Mandarin.
Senhor Alveres and his wife also had a busy social life, which meant Ping Li and I would stay with the children until their parents came back home in the evening.
Zheng Yan was almost fully recovered and the doctor had stopped calling. He would get up every morning and go out to do some gardening for the family. He had asked if he could do this and Senhora Alveres had said she was so glad she had found us, as we were such a good help to her.
I had still had no word from Margaret, and enquiries about Jonas and Alex in Shanghai and Hong Kong had proved to be fruitless. There had been so many deaths due to the Japanese attacks and bombing that many bodies still had to be identified, and there had been no word of the two men in Hong Kong. Then there were the hundreds of deaths caused by the typhoon. It was a country in turmoil.
Despite how welcome Senhora Alveres made me feel, I was glad when the new tutor arrived. He was a young man with a thin face and rimless glasses. Isabella and Frederick looked at him in horror, and after he went to his room to freshen up, Isabella said, ‘Please stay with us, Senhora O’Neill.’
I went over to her. ‘I’m so sorry, Isabella, but I must go back home to look after my own little boy. You do understand, don’t you?’
She nodded, but she was crying, and Frederick, picking up on her distress, began to cry as well. Their mother came in and asked what was wrong.
‘We want Senhora O’Neill to stay with us, Mama, and Ping Li as well.’
She went over and dried their eyes. ‘You will like your new tutor, but you’ve just got to get used to him.’
She asked me to come outside with her and I thought she was going to accuse me of starting this. ‘I’ve made some tea,’ she said.
When I was seated next to her, she said, ‘I’ve been thinking about asking Zheng Yan and Ping Li to stay here with us instead of going to Hong Kong. My husband tells me the colony is overcrowded with refugees from Canton and other cities in China. He also says it’s only a matter of time before the Japanese armies set their sights on the colony. I would have liked you to stay as well, but I know you have your son to get back to. Another problem is that in Europe the Nazi Party is threatening war. It is a terrible world, is it not? But perhaps Britain won’t be dragged into another war.’
I said I had read about the Nazi Party and also hoped there wouldn’t be another war, especially when the last one had been called the war to end all wars.
I was in the apartment when Zheng Yan and Ping Li came back from their meeting with Senhora Alveres.
‘We’ve told her we would love to stay here, Lizzie. It’s a Portuguese colony and because Portugal will be neutral in any war then we should be safe here. When the family goes back to Portugal a few years from now, then we can go on to Hong Kong if we want to.’
I was so happy for them. It saved me a lot of worry, knowing they were safe and happy with the family.
Ping Li said, ‘I will teach the children Mandarin, and they are happy we are going to be here, although they say they’ll miss you.’
‘I’ll miss them, Ping Li, and also you and Zheng Yan, but I must get back to Scotland and Peter.’
As it turned out, I didn’t have to go to Hong Kong to catch my ship, as Senhora Alveres booked me a berth on a cargo ship that had room for six passengers on board and was leaving Macao for London. Senhora Alveres had wanted me to travel by a P&O liner that was due to leave Hong Kong later that month, but I said I was happy to take the cargo boat, especially as it was heading straight for London
It was such an unhappy time when I finally said goodbye to my friends. Isabella and Frederick gave me a posy of flowers, while their mother said they would look after Zheng Yan and Ping Li and keep them safe.
I stood on the dock where that awful night we had found Zheng Yan injured. I hugged Ping Li and her husband, and we were all crying while Senhora Alveres stood in the background. I waved to her. I had given her all my thanks before leaving, and she said she hoped Jonas was alive and well. I went aboard, ready to leave Macao and the Orient for good. I knew I would never go back to Shanghai or Macao, but hopefully some time in the future I would see Hong Kong again.
‘I’ll write to you,’ I called from the rail. ‘Let me have your news as well.’ I held up my jade pendant and Ping Li smiled.
‘Keep it safe, Lizzie. It will bring you great luck, as it has done here.’
48
HOMEWARD BOUND
I was glad that the ship had called at Macao for some more cargo, otherwise I would have had to travel to Hong Kong and to find a ship there instead. I was also glad I had chosen this ship to travel back on, as all of the passengers were elderly people who had left Hong Kong to travel back to Britain. Together, we were three men and three women, and although we were pleasant to each other, at mealtimes there wasn’t the same emphasis on social occasions, as most of us retired to our cabins after the evening meal.
It was such a contrast to my outboard journey, when I had met Elsie and her mother, and Ada and Hannah. I wondered how the two sisters were now and if they were still in Egypt.
My main worry was Peter and Jonas. I hoped that Elsie had managed to get Peter to Margaret’s house, and I couldn’t wait to see him again, as he was my baby. I tried hard not to think about Jonas, as I had no idea where he was or if indeed he was still alive. Personally I felt he was still alive, but then I remembered my mother having this same feeling about my father.
Some days on deck I would gaze at the vast expanse of water and think back to that horrific night of the typhoon. I could never have imagined how strong the wind was or the height of the waves, and even thinking about it made me feel ill. At the time I really thought we were all going to die and I would never see my child again.
Still, I had to look on the bright side. We had survived that sea voyage, and meeting Senhora Alveres had been like meeting a guardian angel. I knew Zheng Yan and Ping Li had done the right thing in staying in Macao.
Although the ship was going to London, most of the crew were Chinese. I didn’t understand the language, however, the captain spoke English and the crew couldn’t do enough for us. Even the male passengers, who had been a bit grumpy at the start, were now happy to be aboard, and I mentally counted the days until we reached London.
There were a couple of stops, but only to take on more provisions, and none of the passengers went ashore. It was as if we all wanted to get back home. The two other women, Anna and Barbara, were sisters and they had been on holiday with an aunt and uncle in Hong Kong, while the men were all retired from various jobs in the colony. My favourite man was old Mr Matthews, who had worked for many years in a bank in Hong Kong but was now travelling back to live with his sister in Brighton.
We spent many an afternoon chatting on deck. I said one day, ‘I loved working in Hong Kong at the school. My favourite shop was Mr Wang’s Wonderful World of Books.’
His face lit up. ‘I went there all the time, but I never saw you there. I’m sure I would have remembered such a pretty woman.’ He lowered his voice. ‘You know that Mr Wang has died?’
I was shocked and said I hadn’t known. I asked how he had died.
‘It was all so sudden. One minute he was sitting at his table with his abacus by his side and the next he was dead. They say it was a heart attack, but I’m not so sure.’
‘What do you mean, Mr Matthews? If it wasn’t a heart attack, what did he die from?’
‘Well, I know he refused to pay protection money to one of the local gangs and I wouldn’t have put it past them to kill him.’
I was upset at hearing this and I hoped it wasn’t true. Lovely old Mr Wang had deserved a dignified death.
Mr Matthews also knew about the school. ‘Sandy was a real character, wasn’t he? He loved his Chinese food and drink.’
I said he did. I couldn’t understand why I had never met Mr Matthews before, but with the teeming population of the colony that was understandable.
That night in bed I wore my jade pendant and thought about Mr Wang. I had adored him from the first moment I had met him, and he’d seemed to like me. I just hoped and prayed that he had died from a heart attack and not at the hands of a sinister gang. Thinking about gangs, I wondered if our landlady in Macao was still setting her accomplices off to rob innocent travellers. But maybe that was just my vivid imagination running wild because I didn’t like her.
We were now passing through the Suez Canal and I knew we were almost back home. I just hoped the Bay of Biscay wasn’t as turbulent as the East China Sea.
As it turned out it was very choppy, and most of the passengers stayed in their cabins. I was the only one out and about, and I was just so pleased that my voyage was almost over.
49
MARGARET’S ACCIDENT
It was cold and foggy when we reached the docks at London, and it was almost impossible to see where the water ended and the dock began. I gathered up my bag and made my way to the deck. Mr Matthews was already waiting.
‘Let me carry your bag,’ he said, picking it up. ‘Heavens, it’s light, isn’t it? I like a woman who travels light.’
I laughed. By now we had been joined by the other passengers as we made our way to the customs office. After we were through all the formalities, I said goodbye to Mr Matthews
‘I’m going to get a taxi to take me to the railway station. Do you want to join me?’
I had actually thought of taking a bus, but I had forgotten how cold it was in Britain during the winter, so I said yes.
The railway station was full of passengers and the trains stood on the platforms belching out huge plumes of steam. Mr Matthews scrutinised the destination board and found that a train was already waiting to leave for Brighton.
He shook my hand. ‘Goodbye, Lizzie, and I hope everything is fine back home.’ He squinted up at the board. ‘It looks like you will have a couple of hours before your train.’
I said I didn’t mind. I waved at him as the train took off, and he saluted. I was amazed by all the colourful characters I had met over the past few years and I knew I would never forget them.
The cold fog was seeping into my thin coat, so I made my way to the buffet and sat down with a hot cup of tea. I was back home and I would soon meet up with Margaret and Peter.
Then my train was announced and I boarded it. I was lucky to get a window seat, as the compartments quickly filled up. I had bought a couple of sandwiches from the buffet to keep me going on the journey home, and as I watched the ghostly silhouettes of buildings flash past me I knew my journey was almost over.
I had fallen asleep by the time we reached York, but I had to stay awake after that because I had to change trains in Edinburgh. I had a notion of breaking my journey to go to see Elsie, but by the time we reached Edinburgh I had changed my mind. I would get in touch with her when I was back home.
I felt a pang of emotion when the train crossed the Forth Bridge and a feeling of joy when we crossed the Tay Bridge. I hurried to the East Station on my last leg of the journey and caught the teatime train to Carnoustie. It was dusk by the time I walked to the cottage, and the sea was grey and choppy.
I couldn’t see any lights on when I walked up the garden path and a feeling of panic gripped me. I couldn’t see why Margaret would be out so late with a toddler. When I reached the door, it was locked.
I looked in through the windows, but there was no sign of life. Thankfully I knew where Margaret kept her spare key – it was still hanging from the hook in the shed. I switched the lights on and everything looked neat and tidy, but there had been no fire lit, at least not that day. Margaret’s bedroom was the same as I remembered it, and the other bedroom had some children’s books and a few toys in it, so Peter had been here, but where were they now?
By now the cold had really made me shivery, so I lit the fire and put the kettle on. I missed the warmth of Macao, Shanghai and Hong Kong, but the fire soon heated the room up. I had no idea who to call, but because I was so weary from all the travelling I decided to make something to eat; then maybe Margaret and Peter would come through the door.
It was the paper boy next morning who woke me. I hurried to the door, but he must have been running because he was away down the road. I told myself that everything must be all right if the paper boy was delivering the newspaper.
After a hurried breakfast, I made my way into town. I thought my best bet would be the post office, so I went inside. A young girl was behind the counter, but when I asked about Margaret she shook her head.
‘I don’t know any Mrs Cook, sorry.’
I was almost in tears when a woman came in.
‘Do you know a Mrs Cook?’ asked the young woman. The woman said, ‘Yes, I do. Why do you ask?’
I almost threw myself at her. ‘I’m her niece, Lizzie, and I’m looking for her.’
The woman looked at me in surprise. ‘Her niece from Shanghai?’
I said yes. ‘I’ve just returned from Macao and I’m looking for my son, Peter.’
‘Well, I knew she had a little boy living with her, but I don’t know where he is now. Your aunt is in the Royal Infirmary, as she had an accident and banged her head against a rock.’
‘Oh my God,’ I said. ‘Where has the little boy gone?’
‘I think someone came and took him away, but I think that was before she had the accident.’
I was almost in tears. Who had taken Peter away and why had Margaret allowed it? I couldn’t understand it. My mind was in a whirl. I had to go to the infirmary to see her and find out what on earth had happened.
I caught the train and hurried up to the infirmary. It wasn’t the visiting time, so I had to wait another hour in the waiting room. As the visitors streamed into the wards, I found out which ward Margaret was in and hurried along the corridor.
She was in a large ward, but she was sleeping when I got to her bed.
‘Margaret,’ I said, gently nudging her. ‘It’s Lizzie, Margaret.’
She opened her eyes and said, ‘I thought you were dead,’ before going back to sleep.
I went to see the ward nurse, who said Margaret was recovering from a bad fall on the beach and was suffering from concussion. ‘She may not know who you are, but she should get better soon.’
I explained about Peter, but the nurse said that no child had been in the house when she was brought in a week ago. Margaret was sitting up when I returned, but as I sat down she said, ‘Thank you for coming, Beth.’
I held her hand. ‘I’m not Beth; I’m Lizzie, Beth’s daughter.’
Margaret looked at me, but I could see that she wasn’t the woman I had left when I went off abroad. She must have had a bad knock to cause this confusion, but as I was leaving the nurse came and said the doctor wanted to see me.
I met him in his room and he came straight to the point. ‘Mrs Cook can go home now, as she has recovered from her head wound.’
‘I’m worried about her confused state of mind, doctor. She doesn’t recognise me and I’m worried about my son.’
‘I don’t understand,’ he said. I told him the entire story about Peter’s evacuation back to my aunt’s house and how he was missing.
The doctor was nonplussed. ‘She didn’t mention a little boy when she was brought in. Have you spoken to some of her friends?’
‘I don’t know all Margaret�
��s friends or where they live, so I don’t know who to ask.’
‘Well, you can come and take your aunt home tomorrow, and her memory will come back, unless of course she was getting forgetful before her fall.’
Before going home, I decided to go to see Maisie Mulholland at Victoria Road. I felt a bit guilty because I hadn’t written to her since I’d sent Peter’s photo. It was strange being back where I used to live with Granny and Mum, but there were different curtains on our window and a new nameplate on the door. I lingered for a few moments as the memories came flooding back, then went next door to see Maisie.
When I got to her door, there was a young woman coming out pushing a toddler in a pushchair. For one moment I thought it was Peter, but when she turned I realised it was a stranger.
‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ I said, ‘but I’m looking for Mrs Mulholland.’
The woman gave me a sympathetic glance. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, but Mrs Mulholland died three months ago. Are you a relative?’
I was shocked. ‘No, she was a neighbour of ours a few years ago.’
Why hadn’t Margaret let me know? Then it struck me that her letter would have gone to Shanghai after we had left. I felt like I was living in a nightmare where everything had changed and I was no longer in control of my life. It was like being on another planet.
I got back to the house and there was a note from the newsagent apologising for sending the paper to the house on the day I arrived and saying there would be no charge as the shop owner knew Margaret had been taken to hospital.
The weather had turned colder and bleaker, and the sea was a dull grey against an even greyer sky. I had never been so miserable in my life, but I hoped to write to Jonas’s father in Ireland and get his help, as he was my only hope.
Dragon Land Page 31
