The Scottish Banker of Surabaya

by Ian Hamilton

  “The Mandarin Oriental in Central.”

  “Do you have plans for lunch?”

  “Not yet.”

  “How about meeting me? I stayed at the apartment last night, so I’m close to the Oriental. I could walk down for dim sum.”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  “What time works for you?”

  “I should be finished my run and back here by eleven. How’s eleven thirty?”

  “That works. I’m planning on coming alone — no Michael. I hope that isn’t a disappointment.”

  “Truthfully I’d rather it be that way. I’ve been seeing too many men on this trip.”

  “Good. I’ll see you at eleven thirty,” Amanda said, and then hesitated as if she wanted to add something.

  Ava waited for a second and then said, “Look, I’d better go if I’m to get my run in.”

  She caught the MTR in Central and rode it to the Causeway Bay station. It was the last gasp of rush hour and the trains were still jammed. In her shorts and T-shirt, Ava drew a few stares. More than normal, she thought, and then just as quickly wondered if she was being overly sensitive to the attention.

  The weather was perfect for a run, the temperature in the low twenties, a light breeze coming in from the bay. Victoria Park was mercifully quiet; the early morning crowd had finished with their tai chi and their group exercise classes and had retreated to the apartment towers and office buildings that circled it. The inner jogging track was six hundred metres around. Most of the time when Ava came to the park, she was forced to walk as often as run. This morning it offered a clear path and she took advantage of it, putting in eight quick laps, until her thighs felt like rubber, her breath came in gasps, and sweat flew off her body.

  She took the train back to the hotel, the other passengers giving her a wide berth as the sweat kept pouring off her. By the time she walked into the Mandarin lobby, she had cooled off, and as soon as she was in her room she hit the shower.

  She dressed in the clothes she had worn the night before: black linen slacks and the blue Brooks Brothers shirt. She fastened her hair back with the ivory chignon pin and then stared down at the green jade cufflinks that sat on her dresser. She hadn’t worn them the night before, almost subconsciously avoiding them. Now she reached for them.

  The two women had last seen each other the day before Ava went to Macau to invade the house in which Michael’s partner was being held captive. They had communicated only by email since, and as Ava rode the elevator down to the lobby she wondered what changes the past few months had wrought in Amanda.

  Ava saw her first, standing by the concierge desk, as slim as ever. She wore black Versace jeans, her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and there wasn’t a trace of makeup on her face. When she saw Ava, she held out her arms and ran towards her. Ava was taken aback by the display of emotion and recoiled ever so slightly. That didn’t deter Amanda, who wrapped her arms around Ava and hugged her with more force than Ava thought that slight body could generate.

  “I’m so happy to see you!” Amanda said.

  “Me too.”

  “How is your leg?”

  “Like new, except for the scar.”

  They walked together to the elevator for the ride up to Man Wah. “My father sends his regards,” said Amanda.

  “And how is Jack?”

  “Happy as can be. He’s already talking about having grandchildren, even though he wants me to take over more and more of the business. I don’t think he sees the conflict there.”

  “And how does Michael feel about both those things — children and your career?”

  “I don’t think he’s ready to start a family, and truthfully neither am I. We both still have some figuring out to do.”

  Michael more than you, Ava thought as she said, “Not everyone is cut out to be a parent.”

  They were just ahead of the lunchtime crowd and were able to get a table near the window. As the waiter poured jasmine tea, Ava scanned the menu and felt her appetite kick in almost at once. “I do like this place,” she said.

  Amanda looked around the restaurant. “It hasn’t changed in years. This is the restaurant my father used to take me to on special occasions. I have so many good memories of it.”

  “Is there anything in particular you’d like to eat?”

  “They have siu mai with pork and black truffles that I love, and they do a deep-fried green chili with garlic and soy sauce that’s great.”

  Ava ticked those boxes on the dim sum order sheet and then added crispy diced codfish, a shrimp dumpling with chives and mushrooms, and a dumpling stuffed with barramundi, thousand-year egg, and cilantro. She handed it to the waiter and then looked across the table at Amanda. “I’m not used to seeing you dressed quite so plainly.”

  “I decided to abandon my Hong Kong princess look — not entirely, of course, but at least most workdays. My father’s office is rather mundane and I got tired of looking out of place.”

  “Well, it suits you. You look so young and fresh, like a first-year student at the Polytech.”

  “I’m not sure that’s quite the impression I want to make, but thank you anyway,” she said with a laugh.

  Then Ava realized she hadn’t mentioned the wedding. “My God, Amanda, I’m sorry — I haven’t congratulated you yet.”

  Amanda gave a little shrug. “All we did was fix the date.”

  “Still, you’re going ahead with it.”

  “Did you doubt that we would?” Amanda asked.

  It was Ava’s turn to shrug. “I wasn’t sure . . . That was a traumatic experience you both went through, and things like that can change the way people look at their lives and each other.”

  “You’re always so honest.”

  “Not always.”

  “Well, you’re right about it changing the way we view each other. Michael was always so sure of himself before, and Macau rattled him. Now he doesn’t take things so much for granted; he’s not so cocky. I kind of like that vulnerability in him. And as for me, I surprised even myself with how strong I was during that time. Michael saw that too, of course, and now he takes me a lot more seriously.”

  The first wave of food arrived, and the talk idled as both Amanda and Ava plucked shrimp-and-chive dumplings from their bamboo nest. Ava slathered hers in red chili sauce while Amanda opted for the hot mustard.

  “Is your father really ready to retire?” Ava asked. Her eyes wandered to the next table, where a diner was biting into a piece of puff pastry that even from a distance smelled disturbingly aromatic. “What is that dish?” she asked Amanda.

  “The wagyu beef puff. It comes with a black-pepper sauce. We should have ordered it.”

  “Not too late,” Ava said, waving at their waiter.

  When he left, Ava turned back to Amanda. “I was asking about your father — is he ready to retire?”

  Amanda looked slightly uncomfortable.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to poke my nose into family business,” said Ava.

  “No, it’s not that,” Amanda said quickly. “It’s May Ling.”

  “May Ling is involved with your business?”

  “Not really, although she has been tremendously supportive over the past three months and has thrown all kinds of deals my way. It’s more that she wants me to leave the family business and join her.”

  “To do what?”

  “She won’t say specifically.”

  “You’re confusing me,” Ava said, biting into a slice of crispy cod.

  “Maybe because I’m confused myself . . . Tell me, has May Ling discussed the possibility of you joining with her in some business ventures?”

  “Yes, she’s been at it constantly, but I’ve put her off.”

  “You have no interest?”

  Ava hesitated as she saw Amanda’s eyes boring into her. How well did she really know this young woman? Not well enough to be completely forthcoming. “Amanda, after Macau I took a break from my own business. I’m on a job now but I was so
rt of tricked into it. The truth is, I don’t know if I want to keep doing this thing. That’s what I spent the summer trying to figure out, and I’m no closer to making a decision in September than I was in July. If I do decide I’ve had enough, then I have to make another decision, about what it is I want to do instead. And God knows how long that might take.”

  “So you haven’t discounted the idea of working with May Ling.”

  “That’s fair to say.”

  Amanda poured tea for the two of them and Ava tapped her middle finger on the table in a silent thank-you. “I have to tell you, Ava, I do want to work with her,” Amanda blurted.

  “What about your father and his business?”

  “It’s a trading operation — just deal to deal. You can’t build any equity that way. It makes money, of course, and enough that my father could retire tomorrow. But then what? I do more of the same, flipping this and that? That’s not where my interest lies. I want to build something more permanent, or at least I want to be part of something permanent. That takes working capital and patience and contacts and smarts. And May Ling has all those things.”

  “She also has a husband as a partner.”

  “That’s the thing,” Amanda said as the wagyu beef puffs arrived. “She keeps telling me she wants to do something separate from him, something for just us girls.”

  “Just us girls?”

  “Me, you, and her, with the idea of bringing more women on board.”

  “She’s never discussed anything like that with me,” Ava said. She bit into the puff, the black-pepper sauce exploding in her mouth, the meat so tender it almost melted on her tongue.

  Amanda ignored the food, her chopsticks waving in the air as she became more excited. “And with me she’s been vague about the details, just saying that she wants us to be in business together. When I pressed her for information, she sidestepped the questions, saying she wanted to make sure you were on board first. I just assumed she’d talked to you about it — whatever it is.”

  “No, nothing.”

  “That’s strange.”

  “Not really. I’ve been evasive from my end. Maybe she wanted to wait until she knew she had my attention.”

  “Will she get it?”

  “Yes, soon enough, I think. I’m beginning to sort things out.”

  Amanda reached for the last puff. “Ava, if you go into business with May Ling, I’m going to leave my father’s firm and join you.”

  “You’d better not make that commitment until you know what sort of business she has in mind.”

  “No, it doesn’t matter. The most important thing for me is the people I’m in business with. Everything else will sort itself out.”

  Ava sat back and stared at her. “How can someone so young be so wise?” she asked.

  Amanda waved off the compliment, but a smile played at her lips and a slight flush had crept into her cheeks. Then she said, “Ava, do you mind if we change the subject now?”

  “What do you mean?” Ava asked, surprised.

  “The wedding. We need to talk a bit about the wedding.”

  “Of course we do,” Ava said, just as her cellphone rang. It was her mother. Almost without thinking she answered. “Hello, Mummy.”

  “Ava, is everything all right?”

  Ava could hear voices in the background and the fearsome click of mah-jong tiles. “Yes, I’m fine, but why are you calling me from a mah-jong game?”

  “Theresa Ng just phoned. I should say, just phoned again — it’s almost harassment at this point. She says all those Vietnamese people you spoke to are calling her every day to find out what’s going on. At least, that’s the excuse she uses to justify her calls.”

  “I told them when I met with them that I don’t give progress reports.”

  “I know that, and Theresa is always apologetic about asking for one, but then her apology turns into fifteen demanding questions that I can’t answer. I have to tell you, I’m sorry I ever asked you to get involved in this.”

  “It’s a bit late for that.”

  “What can I tell her?” Jennie asked, ignoring the mild reprimand.

  “Do you mean what can I tell you so she’ll get off your back?”

  “You don’t have to put it in such a mean way.”

  “I don’t know how else to put it.”

  “Look, I’m sorry I asked, but please be a bit more understanding about what it’s like from my side.”

  “God.”

  “Please.”

  “Okay, you can tell her this. I found Lam in Ho Chi Minh City and I’m currently in Hong Kong working on another lead. I expect to have some hard information by the end of the week.”

  “She’ll ask me what you mean by hard information.”

  “I’ll know by the end of the week whether or not they will get some money back.”

  “What chance is there that you will be successful?”

  “Ten percent.”

  Ava heard her mother sigh and knew she didn’t like that number. “Maybe I’ll skip that part.”

  “It’s your choice. But, Mummy, either way, tell Theresa not to call you anymore, because you won’t have anything else to tell her, because I’m not going to tell you any more until this job is finished.”

  “I understand, Ava.”

  “I’m sorry if it sounds rude.”

  “No, don’t be. I know your job is stressful and I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Sweetheart, is everything else okay? I have to say I was worried when I got that email from Indonesia.”

  “Yes, Mummy, everything is just fine. I’m sitting in the Mandarin having dim sum with Amanda. We’re just about to talk about the wedding plans.”

  ( 42 )

  The afternoon was all loose ends for Ava. Amanda left Man Wah just after one thirty after filling Ava’s head with details about the wedding. Ava had been to one other wedding in her life — her sister’s, which had been held, out of deference to Bruce, in a Unitarian church in Ottawa.

  Amanda’s was going to be a different animal, as befitted the only child of a wealthy Hong Konger marrying the oldest son of one who was probably richer. A large bridal party, various gift registries, pre-wedding events, the Catholic cathedral, the Grand Hyatt. At first Ava found it distracting, but then it became mind-numbing and she found herself tuning out, until Amanda asked, “Is it possible you could come to Hong Kong a while before the wedding to help?”

  “Was that implied when I said I would be maid of honour?”

  “Sort of,” Amanda said, looking away from the table.

  “Then I’ll try to organize myself to make that possible,” Ava said.

  After saying goodbye to Amanda, she had returned to her room. The lunch had gone well in that it hadn’t generated any unexpected emotions, and she had been able to handle the call from her mother. Maybe she was getting a grip on herself. She thought about calling Maria and then put the notion aside. It was the middle of the night in Toronto. There was no one more tender, more vulnerable, more loving than Maria when she had just woken up, and Ava wasn’t sure how she would react to that.

  Maria was Ava’s first real girlfriend. There had been relationships before, but none that she had ever thought of as permanent . . . Ava paused at the thought. She had never discussed the future with Maria.

  She went to the desk, opened the computer, and began to write to Maria. I am sitting here in my hotel room and all I can think about is how much I miss you and how much I love you. When I get back to Toronto, we need to sit down and talk about us. Then she stopped. What did she actually mean by “talk about us”? Was she prepared to make a commitment to live together, to marry? She didn’t know. Then she imagined Maria reading those words and the meaning she might ascribe to them. She deleted the message and started a new one. I miss you and I love you. See you soon.

  Ava walked over to the window and looked out at Victoria Harbour. The afternoon was going to drag and the room was b
eginning to feel like a prison. She phoned Uncle. Lourdes answered, her voice again filled with worry. “He is sleeping,” she said.

  “Don’t bother him. I’m going over to the Kowloon side to shop, so if he wants to have dinner with me, tell him to call me on my cell.”

  She left the hotel and walked to the Star Ferry terminal. At mid-afternoon it wasn’t that busy, and she was able to get a seat in the rear that gave her a clear view of the Hong Kong skyline. When she stood among the skyscrapers that lined the harbour, she felt overwhelmed, almost oppressed, by their size and number. As the ferry moved across the harbour, the density and variety of the buildings changed and they became less ominous. They ringed the harbour in a solid line, most of them soaring sixty storeys or more, reflecting the energy and ego of the new China, each built to draw one’s eye through clever combinations of steel and glass and colour. Ava thought of them as sentinels, projecting power, protecting the city.

  The ferry berthed at Tsim Sha Tsui. She strolled over to the nearby Harbour City shopping centre and began to explore its more than seven hundred shops. Three hours later she re-emerged with a pair of Ferragamo shoes and two new Brooks Brothers shirts. It had been an afternoon of complete calm. The centre, like all the others in Hong Kong and the New Territories, was swamped with people on weekends, but on this Monday afternoon Ava had been the lone shopper in many stores, and she never felt hurried or crowded. Her sense of calm was enhanced by the fact that her phone didn’t ring. Twice she checked it to make sure it was on.

  Near the Ocean Terminal part of Harbour City was a row of restaurants, including a McDonald’s and a congee shop that Ava and Uncle had eaten at many times. She went into a coffee shop, ordered a plain black coffee, and checked her voicemails — none — and emails — all spam.

  She called Uncle’s apartment again. Lourdes answered. “He’s gone out with Sonny,” she said.

  “Did you tell him I called?”

  “Oh, Ava, I’m sorry, I forgot.”

  “Never mind, I’ll call his cell.”

  Uncle’s phone rang four times and cut off. She tried Sonny.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “I think so. He called me about an hour ago saying he wanted to get a massage. I took him to this place close to the Peninsula Hotel. They really baby him there.”