Monsoon

by Di Morrissey

  Carlo was entertaining Mr Mai and another man at his favourite corner table at Barney’s and the early evening rush had yet to start.

  Sandy called from the bottom of the stairs to Anna. ‘Come on, Anna. Aren’t you ready yet? I’ve got the taxi organised.’

  ‘All right. I’m coming down.’

  Sandy paused. There was something about Anna’s voice. She sounded nervous, which Sandy put down to going to a formal function on her own. She wished she’d asked Charlie or Rick to swing past and take Anna with them.

  Carlo went to the bar to get drinks as the waiter on duty idly wiped a table. The waiter’s hand stopped its circular motion as he looked towards the staircase.

  Anna descended from Barney’s flat, taking the narrow steps slowly. She was looking down so she didn’t see the smile spreading across the waiter’s face, Sandy’s hands fly to her mouth or Carlo looking shocked.

  Anna seemed to float. Gracefully she arrived at the bottom of the stairs and dropped her hands to her sides.

  She was wearing the classical ao-dai she’d had made in Hoi An. The chocolate wide-legged silk pants were topped with the long cream silk tunic split above the waist revealing a glimpse of midriff skin. Her slender neck looked even more swan-like as she’d twisted her hair into a smooth chignon and secured it with an ornate lacquered chopstick pin. She held a small silk bag and her feet, in dark embroidered silk shoes, glittered at the hem of her pants. When she lifted her eyes, a slight smile hovering, Sandy noticed that Anna had accentuated her eye make-up, highlighting the slight slant of her big dark eyes.

  ‘Anna! You look gorgeous,’ breathed Sandy.

  The waiter dropped his cloth and broke into applause.

  Anna’s eyes flicked to Carlo, whose face had darkened. He was clearly stunned.

  ‘What the hell . . . Is it fancy dress?’

  ‘No, it’s dressy. This is a formal ao-dai.’ But her bravado wavered slightly as she sought Sandy’s eyes. ‘Does it look okay?’

  ‘Fabulous. You’re dressed exactly right. Very appropriate. Come on – jump in the taxi; you don’t want to miss a thing.’ She bundled Anna past Carlo, noticing the approving glances from Carlo’s two companions at the table.

  ‘You mean that, don’t you, Sandy? I still feel a little uncomfortable about it all.’

  ‘Anna. I love you! Go and have fun. Say hi to Rick and Charlie. Tell them to keep the predators away from you. They’ll be over you like flies. Fantastic!’ She slammed the car door shut, elated with Anna’s dramatic and gutsy effort. As the taxi pulled away Sandy grinned. Damn, I’d love to see how she goes, she thought. She turned and marched back into the restaurant, smiling broadly. ‘What a star, eh, Carlo?’ she said.

  ‘Anna’s not going to pass as one of them. What does she think she’s doing?’

  ‘Maybe she’s taking a big step forward,’ said Sandy. ‘That was more than just a change of clothes. She’s finding herself.’

  ‘Crap,’ said Carlo and carried the drinks to his table.

  The elegant colonial mansion was floodlit and soft lights shone through the tall shuttered windows on three floors. It was set back from the road with a lush tropical garden in front. The driver told Anna the Asian-style eaves on the roof and portico had been added after the French left.

  She was greeted by a bowing attendant who took her invitation and ushered her inside where she was introduced and taken along the reception line of dignitaries. Waiters with trays of drinks hovered and guests were drifting around the gracious rooms and up the delicate spiral staircase. Discreet signs pointed guests to the various collections on the three floors.

  Anna stood to one side, sipping her drink and admiring the setting and ambience while she decided where to start viewing the exhibits.

  A voice at her side and a gentle touch on her elbow surprised her. ‘Anna, I’m so glad you came. Wow! You look stunning.’ Rick was smiling admiringly.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Anna shyly. ‘I didn’t expect to be coming to a function like this when I packed my bag,’ she said. ‘Sandy talked me into having this made in Hoi An; I’ll probably never wear it at home.’

  ‘You should,’ Rick said. ‘It not only looks fantastic on you; you have a right to wear the ao-dai. It’s part of your heritage. Now, where would you like to start?’ Still holding her elbow he led her across the beautiful old tiled foyer. ‘Shall we work through the exhibits in chronological order? Starting with the kingdom of Champa, the Dong Son civilisation, the early Ly dynasty – that’s eleventh and twelfth centuries – then the Mac, Tran, later Le and Tay Son dynasties – which brings us up to the eighteenth century.’

  Anna laughed. ‘Sounds like we’ll be here for days.’

  ‘It does take time to really see everything on every floor. But there’s a special section on the second floor, which is what tonight is all about. Come on, let’s get started.’

  They made slow progress, stopping in front of displays for Rick to give a brief description, pausing to greet people, while Rick introduced Anna and she explained what she was doing in Hanoi. Anna spotted Charlie and Miss Huong and they melded into an appreciative group.

  ‘It is a wonderful setting,’ said Miss Huong. ‘I love coming here, especially in the daytime. So airy and light.’

  ‘Food’s good too,’ said Charlie, taking an hors d’oeuvre from a passing waiter’s tray. ‘How’s that friend of yours with the interest in ceramics doing? Making any progress?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. He’s visited some area not far from Bat Trung, where there’re new factories making the sorts of things he’s after,’ said Anna.

  ‘Ah, yes. Well, no one makes anything like this anymore, do they?’ commented Charlie with a sweeping gesture. ‘No wonder there’s a hungry market for collectors.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s better that old things be in a place like this, rather than in private collections,’ suggested Anna delicately, knowing Charlie had been an avid collector.

  ‘Most of the time, yes. This is the culture, heritage, history of the country. It should be on display for the people to learn about and admire. But in some cases the role of collectors has been to rescue and save artifacts that otherwise might have been destroyed.’

  ‘Trouble is, they don’t always want to give them back,’ said Rick.

  ‘Human nature. There will always be wealthy individuals, even corporations or museums and galleries, who wish to own something rare and old,’ said Charlie. ‘But private collectors are also patrons. They assemble collections initially out of passion, but which might end up being endowed to a university, gallery or museum. Even displayed in a hotel or corporation’s offices. The collection often says a lot about the collector.’

  ‘Which is why the eccentric collector intrigues me,’ said Rick.

  ‘Indeed. There are strange ones out there who do not wish to share their passion. The black hole into which missing artifacts can disappear. Shall we?’ He took Miss Huong’s arm. ‘We shall continue our meander. See you for the speeches, no doubt.’

  ‘Missing? Or stolen?’ asked Anna as Charlie strolled away.

  ‘Plundering temples, robbing graves, stealing from museums: it’s always gone on. And still does,’ said Rick. ‘One of my fields is forgery, recognising the fakes. It’s getting harder as technology helps the forgers. There are a lot of museums around the world that’ve paid for very expensive fakes.’

  ‘So what do they do about it?’

  Rick steered Anna onto the terrace above the portico overlooking the gardens and sat on a bench. ‘It’s not simple. You can’t return an object to the forger who has sold it through reputable dealers or established a provenance for the piece. Sometimes a serious professional might authenticate something truly believing it to be genuine. Other times, well, money changes hands.’

  A waiter refilled their glasses.

  ‘What a strange world,’ said Anna, ‘but I must confess I find it rather intriguing.’

  ‘It can sometimes sound like a movie �
�� tomb raiders, hidden treasures in shipwrecks and digs, smugglers, a rich collector sending thieves on a mission to steal something they covet. And it can be as simple as a farmer turning up a sod and unearthing a huge treasure. And then it’s a race between the archaeologists, the finders, the collectors, the dealers, the state . . . a free-for-all, whether there are rules or not.’ Rick got up. ‘Let’s go downstairs, I’d like to hear what the heavies here have to say.’

  Following the speeches, the announcement of a large donation from a museum benefactor and what Rick called the usual art-fart chat, people began to disperse, finishing the food and wine, or taking a more leisurely tour of inspection.

  Charlie caught up with them. ‘Miss Huong is gathering a group together for supper. Would you like to join us? Some interesting people for you to meet, Rick.’

  ‘Sounds great. Anna?’

  ‘Thanks, but no. I’d better get back to Barney’s and help Sandy. It’s been a really interesting evening. Thanks for the invitation, Rick. And thank you for your company, Miss Huong and Charlie.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ said Charlie. ‘And by the way, you look transcendent. Just lovely. Wear that more often. Goodbye. See you about no doubt.’

  ‘I’ll see you to a taxi.’ Rick walked with Anna to the portico. ‘Anna, what Charlie said just now. You do look beautiful. You always do, but it’s nice seeing you in traditional dress. Now you’ve taken this step, why not go further? Think about your family, eh?’ He kissed her lightly on the cheek.

  On the way back to Barney’s Anna thought about what Rick had said. The idea of trying to find some family, some remote relatives, began to impose itself more forcefully than previously. But would she be opening a can of worms? Perhaps she could just find out exactly where her mother came from and quietly visit the area.

  The taxi driver spoke to her in Vietnamese. She glanced at the meter and handed him money, understanding what he was saying and realising how her Vietnamese vocabulary was improving.

  Carlo was hovering by the bar pouring drinks for a customer, his companions having left. ‘So how was it? Did anyone ask you for a drink? Did they mistake you for staff,’ he joked.

  ‘It was very interesting. You should have been there: you might have learned something,’ Anna retorted.

  ‘Get that gear off and give Sandy a hand; she’s going nuts out in the kitchen. Been a busy night. Thought you’d be back earlier,’ he grumbled.

  ‘I was busy time-travelling between the tenth and eighteenth centuries. Oh, never mind.’ She hurried upstairs to change.

  Much later, as she lay curled in bed, in a state of half sleep and half wakefulness, Anna dreamed of statues of serene Buddhas, many-armed bodhisattva gods, dragons and tigers, and heard the throb of massive Dong Son drums that shivered through her body. But she was shaken awake by the insistent nudging and nuzzling of Carlo.

  ‘I was asleep.’

  ‘I’m not. C’mon, cuddle me.’

  ‘Carlo, I’m tired. I don’t feel like it.’

  ‘You’re tired because you went to a party and now you don’t have time for me.’

  ‘I worked till after midnight, you may recall.’

  ‘So who’d you see there?’ Carlo rolled onto his back.

  ‘At the party? A lot of people you don’t know.’ She yawned.

  Carlo grunted. ‘What’d they say about your getup?’

  ‘Everybody thought I looked very nice. That I should wear it more often.’

  ‘Not with me. Don’t go getting any ideas about this Vietnamese stuff.’

  ‘But I’m half Vietnamese! Maybe I can wear it in your shop to sell your frigging Vietnamese pots and water features,’ she answered, and rolled on her side.

  Carlo didn’t answer, but he was thinking, finally muttering, ‘That’s not such a silly idea. Get some Vietnamese birds from Cabramatta, put them in slinky pyjamas, yeah, could be a bit of an attraction.’

  ‘I was joking.’

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ said Carlo. But Anna knew he wasn’t.

  ‘Enjoy your break, Anna.’ Sandy hugged her as Carlo fussed with the luggage for their trip away together.

  ‘I feel bad, leaving you to manage without me. Are you sure?’ Anna asked again.

  ‘Bit late to change your mind: the bags are in the car; the driver is waiting. C’mon, Anna. Let’s go. See ya, Sandy.’ Carlo got in the car.

  ‘Are you positive you’ll be fine?’ repeated Anna.

  ‘I’m sure. Kim has offered to help in a pinch. All the staff are on standby in case we get busy. Ho has his sleeves rolled up. Listen, we’ll miss you, but we’ll cope. Enjoy Halong Bay. You and Carlo need time together.’

  As they left the city behind, Anna relaxed and held Carlo’s hand.

  When they passed a wicker shop with furniture stacked outside, Carlo pointed. ‘See, that stuff’d sell well at home.’

  ‘You want furniture? Very good wood furniture here. Very cheap,’ said the driver.

  Carlo nudged Anna and said in a low voice, ‘I tell you, there’s so much stuff here. A couple of container loads and we’ll make a killing. Easy.’

  ‘Listen to what your partners say,’ she advised.

  ‘Hah. I know what I’m doing; I’m the businessman.’

  The driver suggested they stop in Bat Trung for a coffee break. But Carlo refused to go to the popular handicrafts workshop where all the tour buses stopped for coffee. The government-run shop had good prices for all types of handicrafts from jewellery to linen, clothes, paintings and pottery, and visitors could see girls and women embroidering clothes and gifts.

  ‘Tourist stuff,’ said Carlo, to Anna’s disappointment.

  ‘Well, as we’re in Bat Trung, come and visit Mr Thinh’s pottery, as you didn’t when you came here before. His place produces beautiful ceramics, both modern and traditional.’

  Reluctantly Carlo followed Anna, who remembered the way to the little studio and factory.

  Mr Thinh was delighted to see Anna again and with his limited grasp of English welcomed her and Carlo. He was clearly impressed with the interest both his visitors showed in his work and displayed with pride examples of the classic platters, bowls and dishes for which the area was famous.

  ‘It’s nice enough,’ said Carlo. ‘But it’s niche market stuff. I’m after high-turnover goods.’

  ‘You want niche, look at that beautiful platter. That’s a rare one. Sixteenth century. There are a few around. I’ve seen two others like that,’ said Anna.

  ‘Since when have you been into stuff like that? How much is it worth?’

  ‘What a collector wants to pay, I guess.’ She pantomimed money and asked Mr Thinh how much.

  He indicated it was not for sale, but then wrote a figure on a piece of paper and showed them.

  ‘You’re joking,’ said Carlo.

  ‘If someone wanted it, like a museum, I suppose that’s what they’d have to pay.’

  ‘So where did you and Sandy see the others like this?’ demanded Carlo.

  ‘In a ritzy antique shop in a hotel owned by a rich woman called Madame Nguyen. And . . . on an altar in a little pagoda where we met a nearly blind nun. We might go there.’

  He grinned. ‘Would she notice if it went missing?’

  ‘Carlo!’ exclaimed Anna.

  It wasn’t until Captain Chinh and his nephew Hung had them settled on the Harvest Moon that Carlo finally looked impressed. It was a sunny day, a cool breeze pushed the junk across the bay and as they came close to the limestone karsts jutting from the seabed, Carlo admitted, ‘Bloody amazing. How’d you be, abseiling down one of those monsters?’

  There was one other couple on the junk, from Sweden, on their honeymoon, who smiled and made it clear they too wished they were alone on this trip. They sat on the other side of the deck where Hung served them drinks and snacks. Anna remembered how she and Sandy had shared such a good time with Tom. Was it because they were all Australian? She half wished the old journo was with them now. He was good compan
y and they’d had some great discussions. Carlo was happy just to drink, take in the scenery and try to send text messages on his mobile.

  ‘There’s no reception out here. Try when we stop for the night,’ said Anna. ‘Who are you trying to reach, anyway?’

  ‘Business, baby.’

  After Captain Chinh and Hung had anchored the junk close to some of the stark peaks punctuating the sea, they all ate dinner together on the deck under the stars, and the Swedish couple retired early. Anna, too, was tired and after telling Hung about the joys and challenges of running Barney’s she decided to go to bed and read. She said good evening to Captain Chinh and Hung, and kissed Carlo.

  ‘I won’t mind if you wake me up when you come to bed,’ she whispered.

  ‘I might stay and drink up here for a bit. Very pleasant.’ He raised his glass and Hung sprang forward.

  ‘Don’t drink too much: you might get seasick down below,’ advised Anna.

  As Carlo fell into bed she knew it was late and he’d had too much to drink.

  ‘What kept you?’ she asked.

  ‘You were right – there was good mobile reception. But here I am, babe.’

  He made eager love to her. Afterwards Anna turned on her side and slept soundly, lulled by the motion of the wooden boat and the gentle creaking of the hull.

  Anna was up early and left Carlo snoring lightly. Only Hung was about. She greeted him warmly.

  ‘So, how has business been for you and your uncle?’

  ‘The tourist season here has been good. We lost some days with a typhoon,’ answered Hung.

  Anna sipped her coffee and, as no one else had appeared on deck, asked Hung, ‘Do you go to Hoi An?’

  ‘It’s a pretty place. Untouched from war. Very lovely. You went there?’

  ‘It was the first place my friend Sandy took me, after here.’ Anna hesitated. ‘I asked because I thought I saw you there. On a boat coming up the river.’

  ‘I have been there for business. So, how are you enjoying Vietnam? You have been many places?’

  Anna sensed he had shifted the conversation and seemed less friendly than when they’d been on the Harvest Moon before. ‘A few. There’s a lot still to see. I might have to come back next holidays. I want to show my friend Carlo where we went before. Can we do that? To the grotto and up to the pagoda, to see the blind nun?’