Monsoon

by Di Morrissey

  ‘Three from Jean-Claude. Kim called and so did Cherie. And . . . there’s a message from Tom about my father. Dad went to the commemoration of Long Tan after all but is on his way home now. Tom says that he’s sorry he missed me but he wanted to get back to Mum.’

  Anna stared at Sandy in shock. ‘God! He came. And you weren’t here. Oh, Sandy, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault . . .’

  ‘No, not at all. I’m just so glad he came. I wonder how it went. I must call Tom and Mum and find out what happened. No, to be really honest, I’m glad I wasn’t with him. I don’t think I would have been much help. I think we both would have been embarrassed.’

  ‘It must have been a big deal for him,’ said Anna softly. ‘Well, tonight will be phone home and talk to parents night, eh?’

  They finished their coffee in silence as their flight to Ho Chi Minh City was called. Each was thinking of family and of the men closest to them – especially their fathers.

  15

  ANNA NOW RECOGNISED THE familiar landmarks on the drive from Hanoi airport and as the taxi turned in to the one-way street that led to Sandy’s apartment, she yawned.

  ‘I hope Carlo isn’t in yet; I’m so tired, emotionally drained. I don’t even want dinner. Just to go to bed. I’ll call Dad in the morning. But, Sands, I feel badly about putting you out of your flat.’

  ‘Are you kidding? I’m wallowing in luxury at Jean-Claude’s place. So nice of him to let me stay there.’

  ‘When do you see him again?’ She gave Sandy a big grin.

  ‘No idea. That man flits about like I can’t believe.’

  ‘We haven’t done too badly in the flitting department,’ said Anna. ‘I must send copies of the photos of us all to Dun and Chip.’

  ‘They enjoyed it too, I think. Different from the normal customers’ trips,’ said Sandy.

  The taxi dropped Anna off at Sandy’s flat and continued on to Jean-Claude’s affluent district. Sandy let herself into the security lobby, glided up in the quaint lift and went into the apartment. And froze.

  The lights were dim; soft music was playing; she noticed the fresh roses; and there was the smell of food. Oh lord, she thought, he’s entertaining a woman. She turned and, as gently and noiselessly as possible, opened the front door again.

  ‘Where’re you going?’ Jean-Claude came into the main room.

  Sandy put a finger to her lips and whispered, ‘Sorry to barge in. I thought you were away and I know you thought I was in Saigon.’

  ‘No, I didn’t. Anna phoned me to say that you were coming back here this evening. Thought I’d surprise you with dinner.’ He took her bag and kissed her on the cheek. ‘I’m anxious to hear your news. Anna sounded elated but she said she’d let you tell me all.’ He took her hand and led her to the sofa. ‘Sit down; I’ll dump this. There’s cold champagne waiting. I thought this called for a celebration.’

  Sandy sank into the plump cushions and found her heart was still racing. Anna had set this up. She took the flute of champagne and grinned at Jean-Claude. ‘I thought I’d walked in on a tete-a-tete.’

  He looked quite shocked. ‘Sandy! Who would I be entertaining?’

  ‘I don’t know, Jean-Claude. You must know lots of attractive women here.’ Sandy realised she knew so little of Jean-Claude’s life. With all of his travelling around the country, he must know women everywhere. And what was his life like back in France, was there someone patiently waiting? He was too appealing and successful to be unattached.

  ‘Of course I do.’ He sat beside her. ‘And I have business contacts with successful and interesting women from all over. And I’m always being invited to dinner parties and functions to meet unattached young ladies.’ Seeing Sandy take a gulp of her champagne, he took the glass from her hand and put the champagne on the table beside his. He lifted her hand and kissed it. ‘But, Sandy, none of them interest me like my adorable Aussie.’ He pulled her to him and gave her a long, hard, passionate kiss. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  Sandy was flustered and her heart was thumping again.

  Jean-Claude topped up her glass. ‘Here, sip this. It’s too fine a vintage to gulp. And tell me everything. Is Anna happy?’

  Sandy drew a deep breath and began to relax. She smiled at Jean-Claude, took a small appreciative sip of the French champagne, curled her legs under her, settled into the cushions and reached for his hand. ‘Let me tell you all about it.’

  By the time she’d shared Anna’s story with Jean-Claude, had dinner, tidied the kitchen together, talking all the while, it just seemed natural that they slip into bed together, wrapped in each other’s arms.

  ‘You’re tired. What a few days it’s been for you,’ murmured Jean-Claude.

  ‘Sitting on the back of a motorbike over those rough roads there and back wasn’t too comfortable either,’ said Sandy sleepily.

  He stroked her hair and nuzzled her neck. ‘Much as I want to make love to you, sleep tight, my darling.’

  Sandy smiled and closed her eyes and was almost instantly asleep, locked in Jean-Claude’s gentle embrace.

  Jean-Claude watched Sandy drift into a deep sleep, her breathing slow and steady, before smoothing her tumbled hair and settling himself to sleep beside her. He had never felt so protective of a woman before, yet Sandy was one of the most independent and capable women he’d ever met. He hoped that the phone call with her father went well tomorrow. Phil Donaldson’s visit had been so brief and Sandy, despite what she said, felt guilty she hadn’t been with him to share some of the experience. Jean-Claude thought of his own elegant and particular parents and considered what they would think of Sandy. His father would be enchanted, but Sandy might not be the woman his patrician mother would choose for her son. Tant pis pour toi, Mama, he smiled to himself: this is the one.

  When Sandy awakened the next morning, she found that Jean-Claude had left and there was a rose on his pillow beside her. She made coffee and phoned her mother.

  Patricia answered the phone and was relieved to hear her daughter’s voice. ‘Sandy, pet, it’s been ages without any contact. You must have been way out in the bush. How are you? How is Anna? What news?’

  ‘It’s all good, Mum. First things first: how is Dad? How did it go? I was so upset I missed him. I had no idea.’

  ‘Yes, it was all a bit sudden, thanks to Maxie getting the visa through. He’s jetlagged and I think still chewing it over. But he’s glad he went. He hasn’t gone into a lot of detail but he said he’d caught up with old mates from his unit and I think that meant a lot to him.’

  ‘Has he changed at all? Do you think it did him good?’

  ‘Oh, Sandy, love, it’s too soon to tell. But he’s proud of himself for going. And so am I.’

  ‘Oh, me too,’ said Sandy quickly. ‘I hope he comes back. And brings you, then I can show you some lovely places.’

  ‘But aren’t you coming home, dear? What about your work?’ asked her mother, sounding worried.

  ‘Of course. I have to come back. And get another assignment or look for another job. I haven’t saved very much.’

  Patricia knew Sandy wanted to work overseas rather than stay in Australia so she changed the subject. ‘Now, tell me all the news about Anna. Did she find any of her family?’

  ‘Yes, she did!’ Sandy quickly told her mother and suggested that Patricia give Kevin a call and see how he was feeling about the news.

  ‘Well, well, isn’t that marvellous. Hard though, when she couldn’t speak her great-uncle’s language. What was the place where her mother came from like?’

  ‘Simple, a big village. But quite pretty. The house probably hadn’t changed since her mum’s day, so that was nice.’

  ‘And what did Carlo think?’

  ‘Ah, he didn’t go with us. He’s got some business deal going.’

  Patricia had only met Carlo a few times and although she thought of Anna almost as a second daughter she wasn’t overkeen on Carlo. ‘I always find him so boastful. I was sorry he chased her over there whe
n she went. I wanted you girls to have fun together. Just the two of you, like you’ve done since you were little.’

  ‘We did, Mum. Especially on this trip.’

  ‘And what about you, Sandy? Met any nice Australian boys over there?’

  Sandy smiled. Her mother was always worried she’d marry a foreigner and live away from Australia. She wanted grandchildren and all the family over for Sunday lunch each week. ‘I know two Americans and a Frenchman.’

  ‘No one special?’ probed Patricia.

  ‘I rather like the Frenchman. Jean-Claude. You’d like him too.’

  ‘Is he coming here?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘I doubt it, Mum.’ Sandy sighed. ‘I’ll try to get hold of Dad another time, then.’

  ‘All right, pet. Take care.’

  Sandy called Anna. ‘I need to pick up a few things: can I stop by the flat?’

  ‘Of course. Have you had breakfast? And we want to get in touch with Rick Dale. What’s his number?’

  Sandy bought some of her favourite croissants from a nearby bakery and waved to Mrs Minh as she went through the courtyard and up to her flat.

  Anna was still in her nightdress in the kitchen as Sandy let herself in. ‘Mm, those smell good,’ said Anna. ‘Tea or coffee?’

  ‘Another coffee would be nice. Here’s Rick’s number. Is this something to do with the Thang Long site?’

  Anna put a finger to her lips and inclined her head towards the bedroom. ‘Carlo is getting dressed. He’s grabbing breakfast on the run. A meeting.’

  Carlo appeared and grunted at Sandy.

  ‘Don’t you want some fresh croissants, Carlo?’ asked Sandy.

  ‘Nope. Gotta go. You got that number?’ Anna gave him the piece of paper with Rick’s number on it. ‘See you later.’ He left, closing the door none too gently.

  ‘He’s grouchy; what’s up with him?’ asked Sandy.

  Anna reached for a croissant. ‘Oh, he has the shits because I wasn’t paying enough attention to him. I was tired. His male ego is dented,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Hey, I spoke to my dad; he’s so happy for me.’

  ‘Let’s ring Tom. Tell him your news and get the full story on my father at Long Tan.’

  Tom was delighted to hear from Sandy and Anna and wanted every detail about finding Anna’s great-uncle. ‘That’s brilliant news, Anna! I’m looking forward to seeing the photos. Meryl and I are going over to see your father when we get back home. I wonder what he thinks of Phil’s trip to Long Tan.’

  ‘Dad and Phil are friends,’ said Anna. ‘But they only talk cars, we girls, and sport. So I doubt he’d share much.’

  ‘What’re your plans?’ asked Tom.

  ‘Carlo has to sort out a business deal and I’m just lazing around. I’ll let Sandy fill you in on her stuff. Take care, Tom.’

  ‘Hey, Tom. You missed a great trip. On motorbikes, too!’ laughed Sandy.

  ‘Maybe next time. Anna sounds so pleased; it’s a great outcome. Very clever of you to track down the family,’ said Tom. ‘What do you know about Carlo’s business deal?’

  Although Anna had gone to have a shower, Sandy lowered her voice so that her friend would not hear. ‘I know he’s planning to export garden pots. But I think there’s something else going on.’

  ‘Keep me in the loop. I’m intrigued.’

  ‘How long before you leave Saigon to fly home?’

  ‘Only a couple more days. What are your plans?’

  ‘I don’t know, Tom. I just hate to leave here, but I don’t really want to renew my contract with HOPE. I’d like to try something else. And I don’t want to work in Australia.’

  ‘And Jean-Claude, would he be a factor in your reluctance to leave?’

  Sandy laughed. ‘You’re a smartie, Tom. Yes, actually. He’s lovely, but I can’t see us melding our lives, careers. He might have a lady waiting back in Brittany or Paris.’

  ‘One way to find out, Sandy. Ask,’ suggested Tom.

  ‘That’s not very subtle. We’ll see. I have a little time yet. After Anna leaves I have to run a week-long orientation for all the new HOPE recruits.’

  ‘Good luck with it, Sandy. I’ll visit your mum and dad and send you a report.’

  ‘I’d appreciate it, Tom. When I do get back there, I’d love to see you and Meryl.’

  ‘Of course, kiddo. The greatest pleasure I had in Vietnam was meeting you two gals.’

  ‘Thanks, Tom.’

  Around mid morning Anna got a call from Carlo. ‘Can you come down to the Harp coffee bar at the lake? I’m meeting Rick. I think you should be here.’

  ‘Sure, happy to.’ Anna walked the few blocks to the lake, pausing to peer into the window of her favourite shop, which was filled with dainty embroidered linens. She thought of the gifts she’d take home for friends and the things she’d like to have in her own home one day.

  Rick and Carlo were seated at an outdoor table, deep in conversation. As she joined them Rick jumped up.

  ‘Hi, Anna. Good to see you. Congratulations on finding some family here. That must be pretty special.’

  ‘Oh, Carlo told you? Yes, it was. Wonderful.’

  ‘I didn’t actually get the details but, when you have time, I’d love to hear all about it.’

  ‘Some other time, Rick. Now, listen, Anna, there’s an opportunity here,’ interrupted Carlo.

  ‘Vietnam seems full of opportunities for you. What do you think, Rick?’ Anna smiled at the American.

  ‘Carlo has a lead on some real antiquities from Thang Long that seem to have, er, gone astray. Frankly, I think that it’s too risky to be involved with these pieces. They are relics that show that Vietnam was a prosperous, cultured nation with centuries of continuous occupation. The government is planning big celebrations for the one-thousandth anniversary of the founding of Thang Long in 2010.’

  ‘What exactly is Thang Long?’ asked Anna.

  ‘It’s a legend. King Ly Thai To chose the site for his new capital by the Red River and when he saw in the sky a golden dragon flying into the clouds he named it Thang Long, which means Rising Dragon. Hanoi, today.’

  ‘Very auspicious,’ said Anna.

  ‘The thing is, this is such a big deal that any objects associated with it are going to be carefully scrutinised. I wouldn’t touch them,’ said Rick firmly. ‘Now, these old plates that you’re interested in are another matter.’

  Anna gave Carlo a questioning look. He lifted his hands as if to say, I couldn’t help it. ‘Babe, Rick is the expert. We need someone we trust to confirm they’re the real deal. I can’t fork out a pile of my father’s money for nothing. Isn’t that what you do, Rick? Authenticate antiques?’

  ‘Could you do it? Carlo will pay you, of course,’ said Anna.

  ‘I’ll deal with this, Anna. So, Rick, what do you think? Your expertise would help a great deal.’

  ‘My fee depends on how many pieces and their value. So you want me to come to Halong Bay with you to see some antique plates that you’d like to buy? What do you know about them?’ asked Rick.

  Carlo said smugly, ‘I’m going to purchase a shipment of fifteenth-century, perfect-condition porcelain that has come from a wrecked ship off Halong Bay. I’ve finally struck the big time. This will be the deal of my life.’

  Rick let out a small whistle. ‘Well, there are certainly people who would pay handsomely for Vietnamese porcelain, provided they thought it was pretty rare. And genuine.’

  ‘In other words, as long as it can be properly authenticated,’ said Carlo.

  ‘Yes, it’s important to be able to give provenance to a piece especially if it was made to honour an occasion, an event or an emperor. Or was a tribute for an emperor,’ said Rick.

  Anna was thoughtful. ‘Actually, when you mentioned an emperor I thought of the story of the emperor who was secretly buried with all his treasure – we joked about finding it. And when Sandy and I sheltered in that mausoleum from the typhoon we met this old farmer who said his distant ancestor was
one of the slaves who buried the emperor.’

  Carlo jumped in, ‘And the secret was passed down in the family!’

  ‘No one would keep that secret for generations,’ said Rick. ‘Greed rules. That would be too powerful a secret to keep. I doubt that there ever was a treasure and even if there were, it would be long gone by now.’

  ‘Okay, now what if the farmer happened to dig up something in his rice paddy or whatever? That’s how stuff is found. That’s how they found Thang Long in the middle of the city for chrissake!’ exclaimed Carlo.

  Rick nodded. ‘It’s true. That is how finds are made. Either an educated guess or sheer luck.’ He grinned. ‘I am very particular about accurate documentation – as far as possible – to authenticate a piece. In the case of a shipwreck, if anything is left of the ship, that would help. Sometimes these pieces are easier to identify.’

  ‘What about the pattern?’ asked Anna.

  ‘If it’s the dragon phoenix,’ said Rick, ‘that’s highly significant and sought after.’

  ‘Do you suppose there are any of those?’ asked Anna.

  ‘You’d have to go through every piece in the shipment. When do you get hold of the porcelain?’ said Rick.

  Carlo chewed his lip.

  Anna knew what he was thinking: that Rick might tell him that the pieces weren’t genuine after all. ‘How are you going to sell them?’ she asked. ‘Not on eBay, I assume?’

  ‘I’ve heard of chunks of Angkor Wat in Cambodia up for sale on eBay. Fake or stolen, you wouldn’t know. No, I can put Carlo in touch with two dealers. They’ll place his goods around the world. Some might find their way into a museum or art gallery’s collection,’ said Rick. ‘There’s actually a pretty well-oiled system of . . . distribution.’

  ‘No questions asked?’ said Anna.

  ‘Rick provides the bit of paper that guarantees the age and origin,’ said Carlo, triumphantly.

  Rick smiled at Anna. ‘Something like that.’

  Carlo leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head. ‘You get paid for saying something is old and it’s such and such. You tell ’em what they want to hear. Who’s to say you’re right or wrong?’