‘What would you like to do?’ James leaned forward and kissed her lips.
‘I’m serious about you becoming a partner in the factory,’ she said, ignoring the heat rising between her thighs. Business first, pleasure later. ‘We would make a great team.’
‘But I don’t know anything about cotton-spinning.’
‘I’ll teach you. We import raw cotton from Pakistan at the moment. You could help us secure suppliers in America and Mexico. It would mean travelling to those countries and making contacts. You’d be the right person for the job.’
‘I might enjoy that. Who do you ship the yarn to?’
‘Mainly Indonesia and Malaya. Uncle has family there. But markets in Asia are wide open, as much of Japan’s textile industry has been bombed to smithereens. In fact, Uncle bought his looms from the Japanese. He told me it gave him a sense of satisfaction buying them from the defeated enemy.’
‘How do you see the future of the factory?’
‘Currently, we can only produce coarse yarn, because of Hong Kong’s summer heat and humidity. I want to install air conditioning as soon as we can afford it and then conditions will be suitable to spin finer yarn. I’d like to move into weaving, dyeing and eventually garment manufacturing.’
‘Sounds like you’ve got it all mapped out, sweetheart.’
Could she hope that she and James would have a future together? She sighed to herself. Only if everything went according to Uncle’s plan and she could get away from Leo. Leo, she shuddered. I won’t think about him now.
James carried her back to the bed. ‘This time, let me do the work,’ he said, sitting her down. ‘Open your legs.’
Her first thought was, thank God she’d had a wash. Then, she couldn’t think anymore, just feel, as his tongue explored her folds. And it was wonderful, so, so, wonderful. She couldn’t stop coming, wave after wave, her pleasure as great as the ocean. He lifted his head and rolled her back. She parted her thighs for him, swallowing him into her until they were one. James and Sofia. The perfect partnership. She looked deep into his eyes while they rocked together. ‘I love you, James.’
34
I had stepped onto the veranda to enjoy the evening view. Glancing at my watch; I realised it was time to get on with some marking and preparing tomorrow’s lessons. I’d been distracting myself from my frustration at not seeing Charles by concentrating on my job. I’d even taken my pupils on a day-trip to the Children’s Home, where they’d each given the orphans new toys donated by their parents. Every day, for the past week, I’d spoken at length with Charles on the phone, but only when Papa was out. Was Charles being too cautious? He was like his uncle in that respect. Maybe I should come right out and tell Papa myself . . .
I lowered my gaze towards Kowloon, then stepped back in surprise. Billows of black smoke were rising from a hillside and an orange glow lit up the sky. I ran indoors. ‘It looks like one of the squatter camps is on fire,’ I said to Papa, my hands flailing. ‘We’ve got to help. Come on! Those poor, poor people.’
In the kitchen, I asked Ah Woo to find some food and fill as many vacuum flasks as he could with hot tea. Murmuring under his breath and clearly thinking his young missy had gone mad, he opened a cupboard and removed a large Dundee cake which he sliced into small pieces. Then he put some old teacups into a cardboard box.
I went back to the veranda. Papa was holding a pair of binoculars to his eyes. ‘You aren’t seriously thinking of going over there?’
‘I’ve got to do something.’
‘What can you do? Leave it to the authorities, dear girl!’
‘It’s George’s day off. Can you give me a lift?’
‘All right. All right. Hold on!’
Papa fetched his keys. I raided the linen cupboard for blankets, bundling them up and taking them to the car. Ah Woo carried baskets of flasks and food. Papa loaded everything into the boot. All three of us got into the Daimler and set off down the Peak. ‘Can’t you go a bit faster?’
‘These hairpin bends are too dangerous for speed. Be patient!’
We took the car ferry across the harbour, then drove until we arrived at a road block. ‘I’m a doctor,’ I lied to the Chinese policeman at the barricade. ‘Please let me through!’
There was nowhere to park, so Ah Woo and I left Papa with the car. Thousands of people, evacuated from the inferno, were sitting on the streets. The air was bitter with the acrid stench of burning rubber and textiles. Flakes of ash floated down; some of them still glowed red from the flames. A fire engine, its hose attached to a street hydrant, sprayed water in a high arc that hardly seemed to make any difference.
I ran backwards and forwards to the car with Ah Woo, distributing blankets, slices of cake, and tea to the shocked refugees. A young woman sat on the kerb, clutching a small child to her breast. Silent tears squeezed from her eyes. Her husband cradled their other child, a baby, and made soothing sounds. I went up to them with a thermos flask and a china cup. They took the tea from me, and nodded their thanks.
I went back to Papa, Ah Woo at my heels. ‘It seems as if everyone got out, thank God.’
‘Good. Can we go home now? I’m missing a concert on the wireless.’
‘Is that all you can think about? Haven’t you got any conscience?’
‘Of course I have, but I’m realistic as well. This mess isn’t of our making. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Let the authorities handle it, dear girl!’
‘I can’t stand by and watch. I’ve got to help these people. Surely, there must be something I can do?’
‘You could start a charity, I suppose,’ Papa said, shaking his head. ‘Involve Jessica! She’s good at organising things. Remember the amateur dramatics in the camp?’
A vision of Mama tripping the boards flashed into my mind, and I swallowed my guilt. One day I’d visit Mama’s grave. But only when I was ready. The memories were still too painful. I stared at the thin white scars on the backs of my hands . . .
***
The Ladies’ Recreation Club sprawled down the side of the Peak at the mid-levels: a clubhouse, tennis courts and a couple of swimming pools. A waiter showed me to a table in the corner.
Jessica came through the door and took the chair opposite. She delved into her handbag for her cigarette case. ‘I’m not late, am I?’
‘No. I’m early. Shall we order straight away?’
‘Definitely. I could eat a horse.’
‘I hope not.’ I let out a laugh. ‘I’d never eat horse meat.’
‘Ever since Stanley my stomach always seems to be crying out for food.’ Jessica flicked open her lighter and lit a cigarette. ‘Thankfully, I’ve managed to keep my figure in spite of becoming a complete glutton.’
The waiter took our orders - steak for Jessica and fillet of sole for me. Jessica moved to sit on the edge of her chair. ‘So, you want to set up a charity to help the refugees?’
‘I thought we could begin by organising a ball at the Peninsula Hotel. We could sell the tickets above the odds and get people to donate prizes for a raffle. It’s not much, but it would be a start.’
‘And it’ll be fun.’
We chatted about setting up the charity until our food arrived, then went on to discuss my teaching job and work at the orphanage.
‘And here I am, living a life of leisure,’ Jessica said. ‘Tony and I have been trying to start a family, but no go I’m afraid. Seems semi-starvation has buggered up my baby works.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, shocked.
‘There’s a specialist in London I plan to visit next year. Now, tell me! I’m dying to know. Why aren’t you seeing James anymore?’
I stiffened. ‘What a question!’
‘Tony heard it from James himself. He was a bit concerned, as he bumped into him with the daughter of Paulo Rodrigues on the Ferry the other day. Then James told Tony he wanted to resign from Holden’s Wharf and help the girl expand her cotton spinning business.’
I gripped th
e table cloth. ‘I wondered why he hasn’t phoned recently. I thought it was because I was giving him the cold-shoulder.’
‘And why did you do that? As if I can’t guess …’
‘Charles Pearce, of course.’
‘I hope you know what you’re doing, Kate. Crossing over the cultural gap is a huge step.’
‘That’s why we’re keeping it secret from Papa until the time is right. Promise me you won’t tell him!’
‘Of course not. I’m on your side, as a matter of fact. Charles is a charming young man. I sat next to him at dinner the other week, remember? And he can certainly dance. Actually, he doesn’t even look terribly Chinese. If I didn’t know, I’d say he was Mexican . . .’
Just the sort of thing Jessica would say but kindly meant, I suppose.
In the taxi on the way back to the Peak, I wound down the window and let the night air blow through my hair. I slumped back in my seat. It wasn’t that I wanted to be with James, but I envied him and Sofia managing to be together in spite of their different backgrounds. I straightened my back and set my jaw. How to resolve the problem of Papa? Jessica had said during lunch that he would be a tough nut to crack. It was true; he was set in his old-fashioned ways. What I needed was a catalyst. Something to jolt him into the twentieth century. Perhaps I should pack my bags and leave. But where would I go? The Helena May had a waiting list as long as a train and I’d searched for a flat, but hadn’t been able to find anything. I slumped back in my seat again.
35
Sofia lay in the cabin of her uncle’s launch. The nausea had subsided, but she’d spent the two hours since they’d left Kowloon going to and from the heads and vomiting. She ran a jerky hand through her hair. It had to be some kind of tummy bug. She swung her feet slowly to the floor and went up to the bridge.
‘I don’t know what came over me,’ she said to James. ‘I’m feeling a lot better now.’
‘That’s good.’ He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. ‘I was worried about you. You still look a bit pale, though.’
‘I’ll be all right once I’ve eaten something.’ She kissed the pulse beneath his ear. ‘Come down to the lower deck for some lunch. The plane won’t be here for a while yet.’
At the stern of the launch she sipped a soda water and munched on a cream cracker. They were motoring past Siu A Chau, the northernmost of the dozen or so islands making up the Soko group south of Lan Tau - Hong Kong’s largest island. She eyed crystal-white sands and lush green vegetation rising up to a small hill. Supposedly there was a hamlet hidden there somewhere, but otherwise the place was uninhabited. A small shrine nestled by the shore, painted bright red, and rocks at the far end stood up like ninepins.
The Catalina seaplane would touch down between Siu A Chau and Tai A Chau, the largest of the Sokos, just within the colony’s territorial waters. She glanced upwards and caught sight of Lantau Peak - a broad cone to the north.
Once they’d put masks on to conceal their identities, she and James would secure the Catalina and its prisoners with the help of Chun Ming and Uncle’s pilot, Wing Yan. Then they’d pick up the gold and head back to Kowloon by way of the dumbbell-shaped island of Cheung Chau, where it had been arranged for them to leave Uncle’s men in a safe house. The Marine Police would be tipped off by Special Branch as soon as the plane took off. By the time their boats arrived, Sofia and the others would be long gone.
Staring at the island across the short stretch of sea before them, she said to James, ‘Have you heard the story of Cheung Po-tsai, the famous pirate?’
‘Can’t say that I have.’
‘According to legend, he had a fleet of over one thousand war-junks equipped with cannon and over ten thousand men at his command.’
‘How long ago was that?’
‘The last decades of the eighteenth and beginning of the nineteenth century. Apparently, he had an English concubine and he lived with her in a sumptuously furnished cavern on Cheung Chau.’
‘Strange he should meet an Englishwoman in those days.’
‘She fell in love with him after he’d captured a British clipper and held her for ransom.’
‘Just like I’ve fallen in love with you.’
‘I’m not a pirate,’ she said, laughing.
‘Ah, but your uncle is. This whole malarkey smacks of piracy, in my opinion.’
Ignoring his remark, she pointed ahead. ‘They say the Englishwoman’s grave is on that island.’
***
After they’d eaten, she went back to the bridge with James. The rumble of an engine, and she shaded her eyes. The seaplane had levelled out over Lantau, but instead of starting its descent, it was tossing from one side to the other. Sofia clapped her hands to her cheeks. It had overshot its intended landing spot. Holy Mother of God! The plane had gone into a nosedive.
James swung around. ‘What the hell?’
In the distance, the Catalina plunged into the sea.
‘Oh no!’ Sofia felt sick again.
‘Bugger!’ James grabbed the charts, hung onto the table, and ran a finger down the map. ‘She’s ditched about ten miles away, I reckon,’ he said, his voice a pitch higher than usual. ‘We must go there straight away.’
They approached the crash site at high speed. Within minutes, it seemed, although it probably took longer, they spotted jetsam bobbing on top of the waves. Sofia looked around for the plane. Nothing. Suitcases floated on the surface and coldness spread through her.
James caught hold of her arm. ‘Look!’
She followed his gaze and there was someone, a man, clutching a piece of wreckage.
James grabbed a lifebuoy and threw it to the man. Sofia went to fetch a blanket while James and the boat-boy lifted the survivor onto the deck.
Chun Ming lay stretched out, his face white and heavily bruised; he was shaking and his leg dangled limply - obviously badly broken. ‘What happened?’ Sofia wrapped the blanket around him, but he stared at her as if he had no idea who she was.
James made radio contact with Gerry Watkins. Sofia listened to the brief conversation, trembling. ‘Fair enough,’ James said to Watkins. ‘We’ll take him to Queen Mary Hospital.’
‘He’s washed his hands of the matter,’ James said, pacing the deck. ‘We’re off the hook because of the deal with your uncle. But the plane has crashed, and the police are in the know, so Chun Ming will be investigated. There’s no chance of recovering the gold, I’m afraid.’
Sofia cradled Chun Ming’s head in her lap. She didn’t care about the gold. All she could think about was the plane’s final moments as it went down, taking everyone on board but Chun Ming with it.
***
Two days later, Sofia stood by the foot of Chun Ming’s hospital bed. He was sleeping, his face serene against the white of the sheets. His pyjamas had been buttoned up wrongly and she longed to re-button them, but she didn’t want to disturb him. His leg was in a pulley and covered in bandages. She sat down on the chair by his bedside.
He opened his eyes and smiled weakly.
A Chinese nurse, a wisp of black hair poking out from her cap, busied around arranging the red gladioli Sofia had brought. After plumping up Chun Ming’s pillows and helping him take a sip of water, the nurse left the room.
Sofia took hold of Chun Ming’s hand. ‘How do you feel?’
His face wore a pained expression. ‘I’ll be all right.’
‘What happened?’
‘I can’t remember much.’
‘Do you think you can piece things together if I prompt you?’
‘I’ll try.’ Chun Ming grimaced. ‘Well, a few minutes after take-off, I think it was, Wing Yan put a gun to the pilot’s head. He demanded the controls, but the pilot refused.’
‘What happened next?’
‘Let me think . . .’ Chun Ming stared at the opposite wall for what seemed like an age, his forehead wrinkling. ‘I know. I ordered the co-pilot and Derek Higgins, who was carrying the gold for your half-brother,
and the other passengers to move to the side of the cabin so I could cover them with my gun.’
‘And then what?’
‘The plane hit a patch of turbulence and Higgins drew his own gun.’
‘Did he fire it?’
‘No. Higgins lunged at Wing Yan, who lost his balance. Both guns went off and a bullet hit the pilot in the back of the neck.’
‘How terrible!’
‘The pilot’s body fell forward onto the flight controls. The plane veered left, then right, and then nose-dived. Everyone was screaming and I managed to jump out the door just before we hit the sea.’
‘There’s no easy way to tell you this, Chun Ming, but you’ve got to know.’ Sofia leaned forward. ‘There’s a policeman outside this room. Now that you’ve regained consciousness, he will want to interview you.’
‘Why?’
‘They knew about the robbery and they’ve recovered the pilot’s body.’
‘I didn’t shoot him.’
‘I know. But you’re the only survivor.’
‘I’m sorry about those who died. I never expected this outcome.’
‘I’m sorry too about them all, even Derek Higgins.’ She glanced down at the bed sheet.
‘I agree. He was very unpleasant, but I didn’t want him to die.’
‘Uncle will send some money to his parents,’ Sofia said, patting Chung Ming’s hand. ‘He has great respect for family.’ As if that will make it all right!
‘What about the factory?’
‘You’re not to worry about that. The main thing is you will get better. We’ll find you a good lawyer. In fact, I don’t think that policeman can interrogate you until you have one.’
A trolley rattled past the door and she stood up. ‘I must go, but I’ll be back tomorrow.’
She picked up her handbag. Two Chinese women were coming into the room. The Englishwoman, the one she’d seen with James, followed them.
‘Li! Ma!’ Chun Ming called out.
The Orchid Tree Page 21
