“Not knowing what risks were involved, I was never certain whether I should acknowledge what you were doing. Whenever possible, I tried to help you by lending my support behind the scenes. After you were kidnapped by those Samson operatives, all I could do was hold my breath and hope you would survive. Learning of your rescue was one of the happiest days of my life. Since then, however, I have been worrying about your health. I’ve heard many stories about a person’s mind shutting down to protect it from overloading. I’ve been receiving your medical reports, but you have no idea how relieved I am to see you in person and observe your complete recovery. You were very lucky.”
Cecelia patted her father’s hand. “My doctors said if I feel any light-headedness or sudden loss of energy, I should immediately stop whatever I’m doing and get plenty of rest. But as long as I wait for twenty-four hours after the last of the symptoms have disappeared, I should be okay.”
“If that is the case,” said Tai-Pan, “why have you decided to return to Hong Kong now? Aren’t you taking a big risk?”
“Not in my mind,” she replied. “As long as I back off the minute I start to feel strange, this trip is an opportunity for me to test my capacity for added stress and take care of some timely and important work—and of course see my family.”
“And you promise me you will follow your doctors’ instructions?”
As the acknowledged leader of the Orient’s most powerful trading company, Tai-Pan knew his industry’s practices needed to adapt to the new ways of the fast-changing world. With the defeat of the Japanese, Hong Kong was rapidly reverting to its former state as a British colony. On the mainland, the withdrawal of the Japanese was being closely followed by Mao Tse-tung’s resumption of his Communist revolution. It seemed to Tai-Pan it was only a matter of time before Communism would consume all of China, forcing Chiang Kai-shek’s Nationalist government and its prominent families to relocate to the island of Taiwan.
Once that occurred, Hong Kong would become an even more important window to China. For the first time in its history, the House of Chang would require the assistance of high-level executives who understood the business climate and cultures of both the Orient and the United States.
As he rode in the limousine with his daughter, Tai-Pan wondered whether Cecelia, with her advanced degree from the University of California, Berkeley, and her executive-level business experience in America, would consider moving back to Hong Kong. Could it be that after all these years she had returned home to evaluate such a possibility?
“Cecelia, there are a lot of very grateful people who would like to meet you and express their appreciation for all you have done. The wealth you helped protect represents a significant portion of the private capital needed to rebuild postwar China. Your old friend Ted Lee from the Bank of Hong Kong and I have been hoping you wouldn’t mind mixing a little bit of business with pleasure.”
“Not at all, father,” she replied. “My boss and mentor, Pete Ferrari, specifically asked me to visit with Ted in an effort to create a cooperative working arrangement between his bank and American West. I’m looking forward to seeing him. When we were both living in San Francisco, he was always one of my favorite friends.”
“To be perfectly honest, my child, when I learned of your success with American West, I couldn’t help but consider what someone with your credentials and connections could accomplish here in China.”
“Father, at times I really would have considered coming home, but I think I was afraid of becoming trapped in China’s parochial business environment. As limited as things are in the United States, there is some improvement in attitudes about women in the workplace. It’s a problem I have to fight every day.”
“Little daughter,” said Tai-Pan, “if you could see the growing need for someone with your skills and experiences here in Hong Kong, I doubt you would give the matter of gender much thought. How many people do you think there are with your background, your connections, your track record, and your familiarity with both the Chinese and American business communities? Do you have any idea of the many options available to you? At a minimum, you should keep your eyes open while you are here.”
“Father, I confess that leaving Hong Kong was never easy. Without your support, I never would have had the courage to leave. Surviving as a female foreign student was lonely at times, but never as difficult as taking that step of leaving home. In fact, upon occasion I was really tempted to leave the United States and return to you and mother. If it hadn’t been for my fear of failing and dishonoring the House of Chang, and the thought of jeopardizing my relationship with Mike, I probably would have come home a long time ago.”
Cecelia had been looking directly into her father’s eyes as she spoke. His facial expression and body language didn’t change. I’d forgotten how inscrutable he is when he chooses to be, she thought. I thought I’d at least get some sort of reaction when I brought up Mike.
“Tell me about Mike Stone,” her father said after a period of silence.
She was startled that he knew Mike’s last name. “How did you know about Mike?” she asked guardedly. “I have always been careful to never talk of him or our life together.”
“If it hadn’t been for his call when you were kidnapped, your mother and I wouldn’t have known he existed. I could tell by the concern in his voice that he must love you very much. His father, Morgan, and I have met on several occasions before the war. You can’t do business on the scale we do without the assistance of the New York banking community.”
“How come you’ve never asked me anything about him?”
“He asked me not to mention anything about his call, and I’ve continued to respect his wishes. Besides, I always assumed you would tell me about him when you were ready.”
“Well, we met my first day at Berkeley,” said Cecelia. “We were attracted to each other at first sight. We were in the same study group, so we were constantly together. He’s a lot like you, father, both intense and intelligent. He’s amazingly disciplined and organized, but Mike is also a sensitive and an affectionate man. He’s been highly supportive of my career and never appears to be threatened by my independence. It’s important to me that you understand there is no doubt in my mind how I feel about him.”
“Have you considered marrying him?”
“Father, I could never marry a man without your consent, and I have always been afraid to ask. Allowing me to attend school and work in the United States was one thing, but consenting to my marrying a Caucasian male of Jewish descent is quite another. I realized it would upset you, so I never asked. We have both always believed that you and Mike’s parents would be opposed to our getting married and having children, so we decided that living together was our next-best alternative.”
“How do Mike’s parents feel about you?”
“For a long time we kept our relationship a secret from them as well. Mike wasn’t prepared to take the risk of being forced to make a choice between his father’s expectations and me.”
“For a long time, you say? Has something changed?”
“When I was kidnapped, Mr. Stone, out of concern for his son, became involved. Then, this winter, when Mike and I were going to be in New York for business, the Stones invited Mike and me to stay in their home. While we were there, I was invited to join Mr. Stone and his international banking team for lunch. Gradually, we expanded our talks to personal interests. He is quite a student of Asian art and literature. We got along just fine.”
“I’m impressed,” said Tai-Pan. “It sounds as if Morgan treated you with dignity and respect, and his invitation to stay in his home must be regarded as a singular honor.”
“Oh, I think it was even more than that,” said Cecelia. “Dinners at the Stones always include a different group of influential men and women. I think Mike’s parents have introduced me to most of their closest friends. It’s been their way of expressing their approval and support of our relationship. And … Father, it would mean a great deal to
me if you could come to San Francisco and meet Mike. I’m not asking you to consent to our getting married. It’s just that I would prefer to continue my relationship with Mike knowing everything is out in the open.”
Chapter 14
THE INSULT
Arriving at his club well before Natalie would make her grand entrance, David asked the maître d’ to show the three of them to his table. As they passed among the other members already seated for dinner, there was nothing David could do but stop at almost every table, say hello to his friends, and introduce the prince and Claudine.
Even when they were seated at his private table, other members, breaching the club’s code of privacy, approached the table to say hello and be introduced.
The three of them were so immersed in conversation, they almost missed Natalie’s entrance into the club. Suddenly, there she was, standing under the light near the maître d’s station. Her transformation from singer-dancer-actress to wholesome-looking woman, wearing a simple knee-length black cocktail dress, perfectly tailored to accentuate her hourglass figure, was remarkable. The three-inch heels made her appear taller than her usual five feet four. Her short curly hair, washed and combed, framed her smiling face with the perky nose and the large brown eyes. Wearing no jewelry and only a minimum of makeup, the healthy-looking farm girl from Sussex stood searching the room for David and the others.
Excited by Natalie’s presence, the club’s members and their guests rose to give the actress a standing ovation. Walking forward and clapping, David arrived in time to greet her before the applause subsided. He took one of her hands in his and stepped back so that he could enjoy the vision of her, up close, before saying, “Natalie, would you give me the distinct pleasure of joining my friends and me for dinner?”
David was enjoying the moment. How often does a man have the opportunity to escort such a celebrated actress through a room filled with so many friends? he thought.
Once they sat down, the chilled Dom Pérignon, the caviar and toast points, and all the other accoutrements were quickly served.
Natalie couldn’t help but think, Can this all be true, or am I dreaming? How is it that a tomboy from Sussex can star in an opening-night show, receive such a lovely welcoming ovation, and be joined at dinner by the Duke of Trafalgar, the Prince of Saud, and the beautiful and talented wife of my previous lover?
With her adrenaline flowing, Natalie knew this was going to be a great opening night, one she would long remember.
After lifting up his freshly filled glass of champagne, David said, “Natalie, not only have we witnessed a rare night in the history of London theater, but my instincts tell me that Claudine and her friends are about to embark on a very important journey that could affect the world for a very long time. Here’s to the success of all of you.”
Shocked by David’s toast, Claudine wondered, Doesn’t David understand this is Natalie’s evening? Why would he include me in his toast? I hope Natalie doesn’t mind!
Wanting to steer the conversation in another direction, Claudine asked, “Natalie, what is it like to have to perform the same play, night after night? How do you keep from becoming bored?”
“Good question!” said Natalie. “Not many people ask me that. First of all, while it might seem that we are always performing the same play, in reality, that isn’t the case. In our minds, each night’s play is different. Before each performance, we are consciously or subconsciously thinking about some new twist that we can introduce to make the play better or our personal performance more convincing.”
“How interesting!” said Claudine. She then took a sip of champagne and eyed the caviar. “I never am quite certain, do you put the caviar on the toast and then add the onions, capers, and the grated egg, or is it the other way around?”
“Here, let me help you,” the prince offered.
Still impressed by Claudine’s question, Natalie continued, “You might say that we use each performance to test fresh ideas on a new audience. As you can imagine, not all audiences are the same. The challenge of winning their approval never stops.
“One of the great things about the theater is that you are constantly being tested. The excitement you feel from an appreciative audience is like no other. The depression when things go badly can be devastating. Believe me, life in the theater can be just as cruel as it is rewarding.”
“What an exciting life you must lead!” said Claudine. “I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to be so talented, and to have so many people appreciate your work.”
“In a way,” said Natalie, “I often think those of us who are fortunate enough to have lives in the theater must be part of some very special cult. The work can be very demanding and exciting, but it is not a very realistic part of life. Often, I wonder how it would be to have a more normal kind of life, one more like yours.”
The prince sensed that it was a good time to change the subject. “Tell us how you prepare for a new role, Natalie,” he said. “I understand a good actress frequently conducts a lot of personal research in an effort to learn more about the character she will be playing. Is that true?”
Without hesitating, Natalie reached into her cocktail purse and proudly extracted her library card. “Say hello to Mr. Dewey Decimal.”
David laughed. “Come on, Natalie, are we to believe that you actually show up at a public library and check out real books and actually return them, like a regular person? You, our star of stage and screen? You’re much too pretty for that.”
What was supposed to be an amusing statement made the evening of celebration suddenly turn ugly. Before anyone could react, Natalie said, “Well, Mr. Know-It-All, who do you think I am? Do you really think of me as some brainless theater trophy to be shown off in public and pummeled in private?”
Natalie, now in tears, was halfway across the room before Claudine could react. Whatever just happened must have been a long time coming, she thought as she chased after her. I don’t blame Natalie—if someone had made a comment like that to me, I don’t know how I would react. What a horrible way to end such an important evening!
Catching up with her outside the restaurant, Claudia said, “Why don’t you come back to the hotel with me, Natalie? I’m told Claridge’s is an excellent place to have a cognac and conduct some good old-fashioned girl talk.”
Seated in the back seat of the same limousine that had delivered Natalie to David’s private club, Claudine put her arms around the sobbing actress, held her close, and gently patted her back on the way to Claridge’s. By the time they reached the hotel, Natalie had stopped crying, content to remain quiet in the protective arms of her caring new friend.
Hoping not to be noticed, Claudine requested that the driver deliver them to the rear entrance of the hotel, where they could enter the restaurant through the service entrance. Choosing a table near the fireplace, she helped Natalie sit down before signaling to the bartender. Recognizing both Natalie, a regular customer, and Claudine, from earlier in the evening, and remembering both women’s preference for vintage Napoleon cognac, he simply nodded to her before warming two snifters, pouring a generous portion of the clear brown liquid into each glass, and delivering them to the table.
Instinctively, both women leaned forward, picked up their glasses, and, looking into each other’s eyes with a knowing expression, took a healthy swallow. Natalie reached into her purse, took out a hanky, wiped her eyes, and then let out a little laugh, surprising Claudine.
“Do you realize where we are sitting?” said Natalie. “This is the same table where Jacques and I were sitting the first night we met. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if we move over there.” She pointed to a table on the other side of the room.
After settling down at their new location and taking the first taste of their second order of cognac, Natalie said, “Claudine, this is a difficult thing for me to admit, but I really, truly loved your husband. Naturally, I didn’t know about you or anything about your relationship with him. The first tim
e I heard about you was the afternoon when we were standing at the top of the Statue of Liberty. He had just returned from Geneva. It was in the fall of 1944. He was telling me about his love for you and his desire to marry you, providing you showed up in New York after the war to accept his offer.
“Comprehending what he was telling me, and not overreacting to it, was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. It was at that moment that I realized the things I most cherished in life were not to be found in my world of the theater.”
After draining the last of her cognac and asking for another, Natalie continued. “Tonight was supposed to be such a special evening. I was so excited. There have been other openings when I spent the night by myself in a strange hotel room. Tonight, I was looking forward to celebrating my return to the London stage with my friends. I even thought I was going to finally deal with the memory of that horrible afternoon atop the Statue of Liberty.”
Claudine was still as she listened to Natalie and sipped her cognac. She could hardly believe the amount of sympathy she felt for the woman across the table from her.
“I understood that David was trying to be funny when he made that crack about the library card,” Natalie continued, “but to me his remark represented further verification that I am regarded as nothing but a sexy musical star, someone to be conquered, bedded, and added to a personal trophy case of masculine conquest, not someone who is cherished or taken seriously. You have no idea how difficult it is to live with that kind of fear.”
Pausing to thank the bartender for the next drink, Natalie said, “I regarded your earlier question as being very perceptive, and I was looking forward to answering it more fully, before David made that unfortunate remark.”
“Natalie,” said Claudine, “it’s important that you not overreact to a careless remark. If it will make you feel any better, I have spent most of my life worrying that people will fail to recognize me for my intelligence and my professional accomplishments. You, better than most, can appreciate how many times I have wished they weren’t focusing on my physical appearance or my family’s banking background.”
Crude Deception Page 8
