by Ian Hamilton
“So do you need me? Do you want me to stay?”
“No, you go,” he said quickly. “I’ll try to spend as much time as I can with Marian and the girls and hope time flies.”
“I love you.”
“Me too. Be careful.”
Ava went inside the synagogue to say goodbye to Henry and Bella. They were sitting on one of the benches, their eyes closed. She left as quietly as she could and made her way back to the ship to look for Jennie Lee.
She found her mother in the casino, sitting at the baccarat table with a stack of twenty-five-dollar chips in front of her.
“I have to leave,” Ava said. “Uncle just called. We have a client in Wuhan who needs us.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Your father won’t be happy.”
“I spoke to him first and asked his permission. He told me to go.”
Her mother shook her head. “You can’t leave me alone with them.”
“Marian and the girls love you to death. And Daddy is still here.”
“You are the only one who understands me.”
You mean who tolerates you, Ava thought. “That’s not true,” she said.
“Stay until we get back to Miami.”
“I can’t. It’s a crisis.”
Her mother stared at her. When Ava didn’t capitulate, she said, “I think Bruce may try to throw me into the sea somewhere between here and Miami.”
“He probably thinks the same of you.”
Her mother continued playing while she talked to Ava, her stack growing larger as she doubled her bet on the banker. When she won, she doubled her bet again, with success. “I suppose I can’t stop you from leaving, can I?”
“No.”
“Well, have a safe trip and call me whenever you can.”
“I need you to do something for me,” Ava said.
“What?”
“My clothes — I brought this ridiculous suitcase with me and I have all these clothes that I can’t wear anywhere else. Can you take them back to Toronto for me?”
“What will you wear?”
“I’ll take my running gear, some T-shirts, my toiletries, and some jewellery. I’ll throw everything in my carry-on. I can buy some business clothes when I get to Hong Kong. I need some new things anyway.”
Her mother sighed and passed her room key to Ava. “Leave your case in my room.”
Ava leaned over to kiss her mother on the forehead.
“Be careful,” Jennie said.
Ava went to her room and turned on her laptop. She found a flight that landed at eight a.m. in Hong Kong with a stop in Newark. She booked it and then called Uncle. He didn’t react when she told him she was coming, and she knew he had probably expected nothing less.
“There is an early Dragonair flight from Hong Kong to Wuhan,” he said.
“No, Uncle, I’m sorry. I have no business clothes with me and I need to shop. See if you can book something for later in the day.”
“Where do you want to shop?”
“There’s a Brooks Brothers store in Tsim Sha Tsui,” she said, knowing that his Kowloon apartment was no more than ten minutes from the popular shopping district and tourist destination.
“I will send Sonny to meet you at the airport. He will take you wherever you need to go. Wong will have to wait.” Uncle paused. “I hear that his wife is very attractive and a real power in their business. They should know that we have the whole package too.”
( 2 )
There was no Wi-Fi at Curaçao’s Hato airport but there was an Internet café, where Ava bought fifteen minutes of time. She emailed Mimi to let her know about her change in plans. The two women had been friends since meeting at Havergal College, a private girls’ high school in Toronto, and there wasn’t much they didn’t know about each other.
In recent months Ava had had some worries about their friendship. Mimi had fallen in love with Derek Liang, Ava’s best male friend and at times associate, when she needed the extra muscle. Like her, he practised bak mei, an ancient and lethal martial art that was taught strictly one on one. Their teacher, Grandmaster Tang, had introduced them to each other; they were his only two students in the discipline. Derek joked that the Grandmaster had dreamed they would one day produce a baby he could turn into the perfect fighting machine. Instead they had become friends, and occasionally employer and employee.
Ava had inadvertently brought Mimi and Derek together, not anticipating that the two would fall so hard for each other. Within days of meeting they had moved in together. As it turned out, Ava’s concerns about how their relationship would affect her friendship with Mimi had been unfounded. Mimi was as available and open as she had ever been. The only negatives were that Ava had to listen to Mimi’s graphic descriptions of their sex life, and so long as they were together, she didn’t feel she could ask Derek to work with her. Over the years they had confronted knives and guns and chains and even been outnumbered by three or four men. Now she didn’t see how she could put Derek at risk, knowing how devastated Mimi would be if anything happened to him. I can’t, she thought, and she closed her email by writing and give Derek a big kiss for me.
Ava thought about phoning Maria but sent an email instead. For someone who was so beautiful and intelligent, there was something almost heartbreakingly simple about the girl. When they were together, Maria was unfailingly buoyant, but the second that Ava left her side she was overwhelmed by waves of self-doubt.
“You need to have more trust,” Ava told her.
“You don’t understand,” Maria said, her voice quivering. “I lived at home in Bogotá before I came here to Toronto. I have never been apart from my family, and my very Catholic family — especially my mother — would never have accepted my sexuality. So I led a life of secrets. I hid my true self. It’s only now, living in a city where I’m anonymous, that I’ve finally been able to be open.”
When Ava told this to Mimi, her friend said, “You need to give her more time. She’s still learning how to be in a relationship.”
“What scares me is her intensity. I’m not ready to commit to being a life partner.”
“Has she asked you to be one?”
“No.”
“Then enjoy her. Let things develop. There’s so much to love about that girl.”
Yes, there is, Ava thought as she sat at her computer and wrote:
I have to go to Hong Kong and then China on business. I’ve been forced to cut short the cruise. I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’ll email when I can. Don’t worry, everything is fine. Love, Ava.
She left the café and walked to the departures gate to catch her flight to Newark. As a rule, Ava avoided American airlines, but there was no way to get out of Curaçao that made sense other than flying on Continental. She thought business class might be passable. It was — barely.
The flight at least landed on time, and once she had cleared Customs she boarded a Qantas flight that would take her directly to Hong Kong. Business class was only a third occupied and Ava had no one sitting next to her. She declined dinner, drank three glasses of Pinot Grigio, and then slept for the next eight hours. When she awoke, she ate a bowl of noodles and then debated whether to go online to research Wong Changxing or watch a Gong Li film. She opted for Gong Li.
The airline was screening both Raise the Red Lantern and To Live. She watched To Live first, quietly weeping three or four times during the movie. It was a powerful film, set in China during the tumultuous decades of the Cultural Revolution, that followed a land-owning couple and their descent into poverty. Li was at its core, her life a continuing tragedy that she bore with courage and tenacity. Ava couldn’t help but think of Wuhan as she watched. It wasn’t that long ago that it had been at the epicentre of the Cultural Revolution and women like Gong
Li were going through hell.
Ava had never seen a Chinese actress as good as Gong Li, and Raise the Red Lantern only confirmed her opinion. Set in the 1920s, the film told the story of a young woman who becomes the fourth wife of a wealthy Chinese man at the head of a powerful family. In Ava’s mind the story was timeless, and she never watched it without thinking about her mother. Her father didn’t house all his families in a compound, but not much else had changed in terms of the essential relationship between the man and the women.
As the film ended, the plane began its slow descent over the South China Sea to Chek Lap Kok, the man-made island where Hong Kong’s airport was located. It was an overcast day and Ava couldn’t see the water below until they cleared the cloud cover. By then they were nearing land, and the ocean traffic was thick with fishing boats heading in and out, sampans that doubled as homes for families and their import/export businesses, and hundreds of ocean freighters sitting patiently offshore, waiting to be towed into Hong Kong Harbour to load or unload the containers stacked three and four high on deck. Kwai Chung Container Terminal was the largest port in Asia, and one of the largest in the world.
Ava was fifteenth in line at Hong Kong Customs and Immigration, and she knew that meant she’d be cleared in fifteen minutes. One minute per arrival, that was the standard. Anyone who needed to be questioned was promptly shuffled off so the line wouldn’t be delayed.
On most of her trips to Hong Kong, Uncle met her in the Kit Kat Koffee House, a Chinese newspaper or the racing form open in front of him, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. This time she walked into the cavernous arrivals hall to see Sonny, Uncle’s driver and bodyguard, standing directly under a sign that read MEETING PLACE. She imagined he had been there for a while.
He was six foot two and weighed about two hundred and fifty pounds, with a layer of body fat that made him look a bit soft. Nothing could have been more deceptive. She had never seen anyone who could move more quickly or be as vicious as Sonny. Of all the men she had encountered he was one of the three whom she doubted she could best physically — the other two being Derek and Grandmaster Tang. Ava had once remarked to Uncle that Sonny seemed to lack imagination. Uncle said, “Imagination is the last thing you want in a man like Sonny. He is reliable and does exactly what he is told to do. That is all you should expect and ask for.”
Sonny wasn’t accustomed to seeing Ava without Uncle, and he smiled shyly when he caught sight of her. Ava blinked. Seeing Sonny smile was a rarity. His dark brown eyes were normally watchful, alert, full of menace, and his brow was locked in a permanent scowl. She nodded at him and then watched in surprise as he put his hands together in front of his chest, bowed his head, and moved his hands up and down. It was a sign of respect, a greeting to a superior. Ava felt a surge of pride, and then slightly embarrassed.
The Mercedes S-Class was parked directly outside the terminal in a no-parking zone. The only other vehicles there were police cars. Sonny waved at two policemen as Ava got into the car, and she heard him yell thanks to them for looking after it.
She sat in the back, in Uncle’s usual spot. “Where are we going?” Sonny asked.
“Ocean Terminal, Tsim Sha Tsui.”
Sonny’s phone rang just as they started across the Tsing
Ma Bridge, which linked Ma Wan Island to Tsing Yi, the northwest corner of urban Hong Kong. The bridge had been built to move cars and trains from the city to the airport. It was almost a kilometre and a half long, and double-decked. The top deck had six lanes for cars, while underneath were two sets of railway tracks. Ava looked down on Ma Wan Channel, which connected the South China Sea to Hong Kong’s harbour. It was a more than two-hundred-metre drop from the bridge to the water; the vessels that had looked so small from the plane didn’t look much bigger from the bridge.
Sonny listened to the phone for a moment and then passed it to her. She didn’t have to guess who was calling.
“How was your flight?”
“Good. I slept a lot, and then I watched Gong Li.” Ava doubted that Uncle knew who she was.
“We are leaving tonight at five thirty on Cathay. That will get us into Wuhan at seven thirty. Wong Changxing said there is some kind of formal dinner, so do not eat too much today.”
“Dinner?”
“It was already scheduled and we have been added to the guest list. I tried to beg off but I am finding he is a hard man to reason with.”
What wealthy Chinese isn’t? she thought.
“I had also booked us into a hotel and he cancelled the reservations when he found out. We are going to be guests at his house.”
“Uncle, is that really a good —”
“I agreed,” he said, cutting short her protest. “It is a very large house — more than eighty rooms, I am told, more like a hotel. Besides, he said the reason for our visit is in the house.”
“Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”
“No.”
And you didn’t ask, she thought, knowing that he respected the old-fashioned courtship that went with establishing new business. “What time do we need to leave for the airport?”
“I told Sonny to pick me up here at three. You can come earlier if you want.”
“Meet me for dim sum?”
“I have a meeting.”
“Okay, but I don’t need Sonny to wait for me while I shop. I’ll send him away. I’ll take a taxi to the airport when I’m done here.”
“If you prefer, I can meet you in the Wing business lounge.”
Hearing that name startled Ava. The last time she had been in the lounge, a former colleague of Uncle’s had informed him that a contract had been put out on Ava’s life. She was superstitious by nature. Still, it did remind her that the job had its peculiar challenges.
( 3 )
The Brooks Brothers store was on the third floor of the Ocean Terminal. It was early and the shop was quiet. Two salesgirls began to fuss over Ava the second she stepped inside. Over the past few years the level of service in Hong Kong stores had transformed remarkably. In the not-so-recent past it seemed that sales associates were hired for their ability to ignore customers, and they were sometimes surly when asked for help. The Hong Kong–based Giordano clothing chain had changed things by insisting that the staff smile and welcome people into their stores. The trend — and Ava thought Hong Kong had to be the trendiest city in the world — caught on, and now you couldn’t walk into a brand-name boutique without being smothered with attention.
Ava had been dressing in Brooks Brothers for years. The crisp, tailored look fit the image she wanted to project as an accountant, as a serious professional. At five foot three and a hundred and fifteen pounds, she was lean and toned, but her breasts were large for a Chinese woman — she was among the small percentage who didn’t need to wear a padded bra. Her legs and bum were muscular from years of running and practising bak mei. She was almost perfectly proportioned, something she was grateful for. She had a particular aversion — even admitting it was odd — to women with long waists.
Ava hated the idea of being thought of as a sex object. So while she was working she dressed as conservatively as she could. And when she wasn’t working, she wore Adidas training pants and Giordano T-shirts. Mimi often teased Ava, calling her preference for Brooks Brothers her “butch look.” But there was nothing remotely butch about Ava. When she put on a bit of makeup, let her black, silky hair hang loose or wore it swept up with one of her collection of clasps and hairpins, and slipped on a slim-fitting skirt with a pair of black leather Cole Haan heels, she turned heads — male and female.
There were four Brooks Brothers stores in Hong Kong, but Ava knew from previous trips that this one was the largest and had the best selection of women’s clothing. She bought three button-down, no-iron tailored shirts with modified Italian collars and French cuffs, in pink, black, and whit
e with blue pinstripes. She also purchased two pairs of black slacks, one cotton, the other linen. The slacks came in three styles; she opted for the Lucia fit, a clean look without pleats or cuffs.
She was about to pay for the items when she spotted a pair of black alligator high heels. They were gorgeous: soft, supple, classic. Ava turned a shoe over to look at the price tag. They cost more than eight thousand Hong Kong dollars, over a thousand U.S. What the hell, she thought, I’ll expense them.
It was almost noon when she walked out of the Ocean Terminal with her Brooks Brothers bags and another from Cole Haan with a pair of black leather pumps. She had two more shops to visit, but they were on Hong Kong Island, directly across Victoria Harbour from where she stood in Kowloon.
Ava walked to the Tsim Sha Tsui terminal and boarded the Star Ferry. The passenger load was light and she was able to find a seat near the front. Kowloon was the primary entertainment and shopping district in the Territory, but Central District on Hong Kong Island was where its financial and business heart beat, and its skyline reflected that powerfully. Directly ahead of Ava was Hong Kong’s southern shoreline, a virtual wall of modern buildings and skyscrapers that ran for more than five kilometres. She could pick out the two International Commerce Centres, both over 450 metres high and among the ten tallest buildings in the world; the triangular peak of Central Plaza; the steel and glass angles of the Bank of China Tower; and The Center, sheathed entirely in steel and lit up at night in a varying spectrum of neon colours.
The two shops she wanted to visit were a stationery store a few blocks north of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, and the Shanghai Tang flagship store on Pedder Street, only a few hundred metres farther. But as she exited the ferry, she felt hunger pangs. The Mandarin Oriental had a wonderful dim sum restaurant, Man Wah, on its twenty-fifth and top floor. It wasn’t quite noon, so she decided to eat now and beat the lunchtime mob.
Man Wah was just getting busy and she managed to get a table near the back. Within ten minutes of her arrival there was a lineup out the door and down the hall. She ordered hot and sour soup, chicken feet, har gow, and baby bok choy in oyster sauce.
