Following the tall Chinese through a beautiful courtyard, they didn’t see another soul. Passing beneath a carved archway, its roof surmounted by writhing dragons, they emerged into a second even more sumptuous and wonderfully perfumed garden. Again they saw no one. On the far side, their guide trotted up a short terrace of steps, opened a door then beckoned them to enter.
They found themselves in an anteroom furnished with an ornately carved bench and a low table on which sat an exquisite cloisonné urn nearly three feet high.
‘Wait,’ the big Chinese man said.
Kitty sat on the carved bench, which wasn’t any more comfortable than it looked. Somehow a small stone had found its way into her boot: she untied the lace, removed the boot and decanted the stone onto the flagged floor. Of course, at that moment their guide returned.
‘Mr Yip see you now.’
Damn. She jammed her foot back in its boot and stood, conscious of her trailing bootlace, then followed the others into the next room.
Yip Chun Kit was ensconced in a high-backed chair carved with dragons chasing their scaly tails and phoenixes and the like – almost a throne, really – and she immediately thought, oh dear, he does look like a frog. We must get poor Bao away from here. His English, though, was very good.
Introductions were made, a short discussion ensued regarding the voyage to Hong Kong and how lucky they’d been to secure a berth at Pedder’s Wharf given the busyness of the waterfront, and if Chun knew who they were he didn’t show any indication. In fact he was most gracious and offered tea. Kitty’s heart sank. Taking tea in China wasn’t like taking tea in England, where you simply boiled the kettle, tipped some leaves in the pot then poured yourself a cup. Here, taking tea was a ceremony and could take quite some time depending on the participants and the context. But to decline the offer of tea was the height of rudeness and she knew that Rian wouldn’t dare, even though he wasn’t fond of green tea in particular. However, he surprised her.
‘Before we accept your kind offer,’ he said, ‘perhaps I should clarify exactly why we’re here.’
‘Ah, yes.’ Chun nodded towards the big man who’d taken up position near the door. ‘My man, Tsang Ho Fai, said you have for me a very lucrative business proposition? I have to say I cannot wait to hear it.’
He smirked and Kitty realised then that he knew exactly who they were.
‘Well, here it is,’ Rian said. ‘I want you to hand over Wong Bao Wan now. We’re here at the direct request of her father, Wong Fu. There won’t be a wedding, Wong Kai won’t be the next Cloud Leopard, and there certainly won’t be any money in it for you, do you understand?’
Chun looked vastly amused. Kitty felt like slapping him.
‘I am afraid I do not. I have never heard of this . . . What is her name?’
‘You know exactly who I’m talking about,’ Rian said. ‘And I know she’s here somewhere, if not in this compound then somewhere in this city. So I suggest that you save yourself some trouble, go and fetch her, and we’ll be on our way. Kidnap is a capital offence, you know, and this is a British colony.’
Spreading his chubby hands in a parody of bemusement, Chun said, ‘That is as may be, however I still do not know of this Miss Wong.’ Then he raised his groomed eyebrows and a forefinger as if he’d just had the most marvellous idea. ‘But if I meet her I will tell her you are looking for her.’
‘No need, we’ll find her soon enough,’ Rian replied with forced good humour. ‘And no thank you, we don’t want any of your tea. I’d rather drink boiled grass clippings.’
He gave the shallowest of bows, less than the effort you’d put into glancing down at your boots, took Kitty’s arm and marched from the room, followed smartly by Simon and Hawk.
‘Keep your eye out for Bao,’ he said out of the side of his mouth as they crossed the inner courtyard. ‘If she’s here she’ll know we are, but I’m betting she’s locked up.’
Simon said, ‘Kidnap’s not a capital offence, is it? It’s only a misdemeanour.’
‘He won’t know that, will he?’
‘He might.’
Glancing over her shoulder Kitty saw that Tsang Ho Fai was following them. She gave him a little wave.
Through the archway and into the front courtyard, then out onto the street. Behind them the door shut with quite a bang.
‘Bad-tempered sod,’ Rian said.
True to his word the driver of the ox and cart was still waiting. The ox stared at them through mournful brown eyes as it chewed yet more hay while the driver lay along the seat, conical hat over his face, his skinny ankles revealed by too-short trousers. Kitty thought the ox probably ate better than its owner.
Hawk rapped on the cart to wake the man without giving him a fright. He sat up quickly, swivelled on the seat, put his hat on and grabbed the reins.
‘Where now?’
‘Back to the docks. And there’s an extra shilling in it for you if you hurry.’
That was a generous bonus, Kitty thought, and was guaranteed to garner more bruises: when an ox trotted all hell could break loose. But she was glad to be heading back to the waterfront. They’d done what they could about Bao for now and, as Rian had said, if she was at Yip Chun Kit’s compound, at least now she would know they were looking for her. They would make a plan to do what they could to help her escape. In the meantime there might be news about the whereabouts of Lee Longwei, and therefore Amber. Even just knowing where she was would make things better. Well, a tiny bit better, at least.
*
Bao bent to inhale the scent of a newly unfurled peony, a perfume which reminded her achingly of her father. Peonies were his favourite blooms.
‘Be careful the entire flower does not disappear up your nostril.’
Bao didn’t need to look to see who had spoken: only Lai Wing Yan would say something so insulting to her.
Over her shoulder she replied, ‘Do you have to be so rude?’
‘No. I choose to be.’
Bao turned and faced Wing. It was true that in comparison to Wing’s finer nose, Bao’s nostrils were more full, but they’d always been perfectly serviceable. She could breathe through them, blow them and even pick them quite comfortably, if she felt like it. About to suggest that perhaps Chun liked Chinese-looking noses, she bit her tongue as annoying Wing further wouldn’t be productive at this point.
Instead she said, ‘Tan is looking very eye-catching today.’
Wing gave an inelegant snort of amused derision. ‘Ha! Eye-catching? That is one word for it, I suppose.’
‘Two.’
‘What?’
‘Eye-catching is two words.’
Wing flapped a dismissive hand at her and they shared a few moments studying Chun’s wife as she tottered along the garden’s gravel path on her tiny feet, followed by her personal servants. She wore a beautiful gown of embroidered sage green silk, too much jewellery for a walk outdoors, heavy face powder, and her hair had been shaped into elaborate knots at the back and sides of her head and decorated with artificial flowers.
‘She dyes it, you know,’ Wing remarked.
‘Her hair?’
Wing nodded. ‘She is older than Chun by five years, but brought a huge dowry with her when they married and at the time Chun needed money. Delivering her last child nearly killed her. A pity it did not.’
‘If she had died, would he have married you?’
‘I am Chun’s primary concubine. Of course he would have.’
She said it so quickly that Bao wasn’t sure even Wing believed it.
‘She is jealous and frightened of you,’ Wing went on. ‘She does not want to be wife number two, hence the extra effort she is making.’
‘And are you jealous of me?’
Wing’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Me? Jealous of your big feet and tea-coloured complexion and the muscles in your arms like a man’s? Ha! That is a joke.’
‘My feet are not that big. They are just not dainty.’
‘Chun will soon see
what a mistake he has made and you and Tan will end up walking around and around the garden bemoaning your lot while he spends his time with me.’ Wing picked a chrysanthemum, pulled a handful of petals off it and let them fall to the ground. ‘I do not even know why he wants to marry you.’
Far better you don’t, thought Bao. She looked around for Po but the girl was well out of hearing distance, gazing into the lotus pond. The day before, when Rian and Kitty had come, she, Bao, had been locked in her apartment and hadn’t seen them but she’d heard the gossip from the servants and from Yu Peijing and So Mei Yan. She’d overheard the servants talking and had gone to Peijing and Mei, with whom she was on reasonably friendly terms, and pumped them for details. They hadn’t wanted to tell her anything at first, and she’d realised they’d been warned not to speak to her about the matter, but they were terrible gossips and eventually the story of Kitty, Rian, Simon and Hawk’s visit had come out. No one had encountered them directly but everyone had been peeping through their windows and had compared notes later. Even Tsang Ho Fai had gossiped, boasting about how he’d put the fear of the gods into the gweilo visitors.
Also, last night someone had slipped a note beneath her door written in beautiful Cantonese characters which read:
Wong Bao Wan,
Your English friends Captain Rian and Mrs Kitty Farrell came to the house today, looking for you. Chun lied and said you were not here. If you wish to leave you must try to get a message to them. Their ship is moored at Pedder’s Wharf. Do not dally.
It hadn’t been signed and there was no other indication of who had written it, but Bao suspected Tan. The confident strokes and curves had the same elegant formality she did, and the sentiment behind the message was certainly hers. Had Wing written it, Bao was sure the message wouldn’t have been half as polite.
‘Can I trust you?’ she asked.
Caught between suspicion and curiosity, Wing eyed her. ‘Not really. Why?’
‘I do not want to marry Chun.’
Wing sniffed the remains of the chrysanthemum and made a face. ‘Then tell him.’
‘I have, repeatedly.’
‘Tell your family. Tell your father, or the matchmaker.’
‘My father is in New Zealand on the goldfields, the matchmaker is in Chun’s employ, and . . . Well, it is complicated. I have no one to represent me. The decision has been made. I am to marry him in two weeks.’
‘Two weeks!’ Wing looked stunned.
‘Yes. I have even seen the wedding costume.’
Wing’s pretty mouth twisted into something very ugly, but she remained silent. In her fist the chrysanthemum was crushed to pieces. Noticing what she’d done, she dropped it and wiped her hand on her gown.
Bao said, ‘The thing is, I would rather die than marry Chun, so I must leave.’
‘Leave this house?’
‘Yes.’
‘But I have seen Chun’s men outside your apartment door at night. I know you are not permitted beyond the compound walls. You cannot leave.’
‘I can, with your help.’
‘Why should I help you?’
Bao was disappointed. She’d thought Wing quite a lot smarter than that.
‘Do not look at me in that manner,’ Wing snapped. ‘I do not like you. The worst thing I can do to you is not help you so that you have to stay here. Had you thought of that?’
‘Would you really cut off your silly little nose to spite your face?’
Looking absolutely horrified, her hand cupped over her precious nose, Wing demanded, ‘What do you mean?’
Bao sighed. She’d forgotten the idiom was an English one, not Chinese. ‘Would you really see me marry Chun rather than help me escape, just because you do not like me? I mean, the reason you do not like me is because I am supposed to marry Chun, yes?’
‘Yes,’ Wing answered slowly.
‘So if you help me escape, your problem goes away and so does mine.’
A short silence fell while Wing thought it through. Then: ‘How involved would I need to be?’
‘Not very.’
‘Would there be any risk to me?’
‘I can arrange things so that there is not. Well, hardly any.’
‘When were you thinking of going?’
‘I need a day or two to get ready, with your help, so possibly the day after tomorrow.’
Another silence. Then: ‘All right, I will help you. But only to get rid of you.’
‘Of course.’
‘And if you do get away and I am blamed, I will say you threatened me with my life.’
‘Naturally. You can say whatever you like. I will be long gone.’
Wing nodded, apparently satisfied. ‘What will you need?’
So Bao told her.
Chapter Eight
There had been no word the day before of Lee Longwei’s whereabouts, a dearth of news that had crushed Kitty. She didn’t know whether to scream, weep, hit out at something or collapse on her bed with her pillow over her head. Rian was just as upset and as usual his tension manifested as a foul mood, resulting in everyone doing their best to avoid him, except Hawk, Pierre and Haunui, who were impervious to his temper. Poor Tahi, too, was in a state, his jaw tight, his face drawn and his eyes bleary from lack of sleep. Israel was also horribly on edge, pale-faced and hair-triggered. They were all tired, and desperately worried about Amber and Bao.
Kitty couldn’t remember ever feeling this awful. No, that wasn’t quite true. Once, when Amber had been a little child, a young woman named Amiria – not much more than a girl herself – had taken her and Kitty had had to hunt her down and take her back. That had been pretty damned terrible. And the time that Amber and Bao had been abducted by Searle and Tuttle at Ballarat had been hideous, too. In fact, counting Lo Fang’s and Lee Longwei’s deeds, this was the fourth time in her life Amber had been abducted, which, if the present situation wasn’t so terrifying, would be ridiculous. It was almost, Kitty thought in her lowest moments, as though she were being made to pay for plucking Amber from the streets of Auckland when she’d been tiny, and daring to presume she and Rian could raise her as their own. But would God really do that? She’d asked Simon, who should know, having been a missionary. Would He really punish her for taking someone else’s child?
‘Don’t be silly,’ Simon said. ‘Of course He wouldn’t. That isn’t the sort of thing God does. If he bothers to do anything at all.’
‘Then why do I feel like I’m being punished?’
‘I don’t know. Let’s try and concentrate on finding Amber rather than brooding over our . . . selves, shall we?’ Simon had replied.
That had given Kitty a shock. ‘Are you calling me self-indulgent?’
Simon had looked shocked then. ‘No. God, no. I just don’t think it pays to dwell on why things happen. Don’t look for hidden meanings when there aren’t any. Look, you did nothing wrong when you took Amber off the streets. I was there, remember. You’ve raised her beautifully and given her a wonderful life. Why would God or anyone else punish you for that? Don’t waste your time worrying about the past. Worry about now if you have to, but don’t make it any worse than it needs to be.’
Kitty had felt a little better after that conversation but of course her fear and distress remained. This time it felt as though Amber really had been snatched away and hauled up into the sky by the creature in Tahi’s vision, never to be seen again, which was absurd, yet not. There were different degrees of gone – gone for the day, gone for a week, gone forever – and Amber felt very gone. Even when Rian had been caught in a flash flood on the Ballarat goldfields and everyone was convinced he’d been killed and his body lost downriver, she hadn’t felt this empty. She’d known then he was still alive, and so had Tahi.
Now, she finished setting the mess room table, then went into the galley.
‘Pierre?’
‘Oui, ma chérie?’
‘Will you do a reading?’
Pierre tipped the fat from a roast leg of pork
into a metal bowl to keep for later, then wiped his hands on his linen apron. ‘For Amber?’
Kitty nodded. ‘And Bao.’
‘You know Rian don’t like it.’
‘Bugger Rian. I don’t like not knowing what’s happened to our daughter.’
‘Have to be just the bones. I don’t have the snakes here.’ Pierre frowned, adding twenty extra wrinkles to his already incredibly lined forehead. ‘Or the little snakes, do they like Hong Kong?’
‘I’ve only seen bigger ones, though they were dead and hanging up in the marketplace, and I’ve heard a lot of them are quite venomous. I really don’t want one of those loose on the ship.’
Pierre looked comically alarmed. ‘Samson and Delilah will have the heart attack! No, we stick with just the bones. After supper, oui? I will need half an hour or so to prepare the dollies.’
‘Good. Let me talk to Rian.’
Chuckling, Pierre said, ‘Heh. Mick will shit.’
Rian wasn’t the only one aboard the Katipo not entirely comfortable with Pierre’s eclectic mix of Louisiana voodoo and Catholicism.
Kitty managed one slice of pork at dinner, even though it was expertly roasted with delicious crackling, half a potato and seven green beans, and Simon and Pierre only picked at theirs because they, too, were the sort of people whose appetites were affected when they were upset, but everyone else took deliberately small servings out of respect for the missing girls, then sat staring miserably at their empty plates, which annoyed Kitty.
‘For God’s sake, eat, would you? They wouldn’t want you all to starve just because they’re not here.’
There was a mad rush then for the pork and vegetables, and a palpable lifting of the mood around the table. It was a pity Kitty was going to have to flatten it again.
‘Rian?’
‘Mmm?’ Said through a mouth stuffed full of potato.
The Cloud Leopard's Daughter Page 17
