Oriental Hotel (41 page)

‘Yes, I hear you.' There was a lump in her throat. Perhaps I've misjudged him all this time, she thought. Perhaps he really is concerned for our welfare.

‘Now, I've told Gordon my car will be on hand to take you down to the ferry,' Hugh continued. ‘I expect you will be most anxious to get home as soon as possible.'

She nodded. Home was Kowloon, the part of Hong Kong that – along with the New Territories – was attached to mainland China and was reached from Hong Kong Island by means of the Star Ferries that chuntled back and forth across the blue water dividing them.

‘Brittain!' Hugh swung around to include him in the conversation.

‘Can I put my car at your disposal, my dear fellow? You have to get to Shek-o, I dare say?'

Shek-o, on the south side of the island. Shek-o, beautiful and wild, with its unbroken views out over the South China Sea.

‘It's all right, I can make my own way.' Brit's voice was smooth and easy and it tore at her all over again. In a very short time, just as long as it took them to moor in the marina, they would be going their separate ways and it would be all over, this time for good. ‘I must thank you again though, de Gama, for the passage on your yacht. It has made a difference of several days to me – not to mention the difference in comfort!'

Hugh's arm tightened around Elise's shoulders in a small, harmless hug that nevertheless made her shrink inwardly.

‘The least I could do, Brittain, after what you did for Elise. Marvellous of him, wasn't it, m' dear?'

‘Yes. Thank you, Brit,' she said levelly.

Now, at last, he was forced to look at her again. His mouth quirked upwards, his eyes narrowed slightly, and as they met hers she felt the shock waves run through her in ever-widening circles.

She had not been mistaken, then – unless he looked at everyone that way, making the world shrink to encompass just the two of them. She hadn't been mistaken – and knowing it was wonderful!

‘Elise, my dear, there you are!'

Gordon's voice broke the spell and she turned abruptly, suddenly very aware not only of Brit's eyes but Gordon's and Hugh's too, all focused on her.

‘Why, where did you think I was, Gordon?'

‘He thought you had begun to swim, Elise, in your eagerness to get ashore. But don't worry, we're docking now. You can save your energy for your family.' Hugh's tone was light.

‘Yes – dry land! Goodbye, Brittain, and thank you for arranging the passage for my wife.' Gordon's arm had replaced Hugh's around her – it was as if between them they were keeping proprietorial tabs on her, she thought. She tried to turn to look at Brit again and realised that the tears were there, aching in her throat, burning behind her eyes. Holding them back demanded every ounce of her concentration and she dared not speak. The muscles of her mouth felt paralysed. She clamped on them fiercely, forcing a tiny half smile, and through her blurred vision she saw Brit shake hands with the two men. Then, unexpectedly, he extended his hand towards her.

‘Mrs Sanderson.' All the old mockery was there and as his! fingers touched hers the contact seemed to burn her.

She nodded abruptly, still afraid to speak but knowing that for all her efforts it must be obvious her eyes were swimming with tears.

‘Goodbye, Brittain, and thanks again.'

‘Goodbye, Sanderson.'

Gordon's hand on her waist turned her away, but she could no longer see any of them. Blindly she crossed the deck, walking down the gangway as if into a thick fog, unaware of anything but the pain inside her and the need to put one foot in front of the other.

On to dry land – the soil of Hong Kong – she was assailed by the smells and the sounds, jostled by the always rushing, always pushing natives, and feeling, seeing, hearing nothing. Into the whispering luxury of Hugh's Rolls Royce with Gordon beside her, dimly aware of the instructions to the liveried chauffeur who had presumably been warned of the arrival of the
Lively
and who had materialised from the blur outside her world. Driving between the three-storey-high buildings with their wide verandahs. Out of the car at the Star Ferry Terminal, jostled again, then walking up the clanking gangplank on to the upper deck of the ferry. Looking across the harbour to the mound of land that was Kowloon, hazy beneath the blue sky.

As the ugly two-tiered boat moved away from the pier, Gordon said, ‘You seem upset, Elise.'

His tone was light, conversational almost, but she felt a moment's panic. What had he noticed? Gordon was good at concealing his thoughts and his feelings. Swallowing at the still threatening knot of tears, she opted for something close to honesty.

‘Coming home after all this time is a very emotional experience.'

‘Of course. I just hope you will have got over it before we get home. Otherwise it will be upsetting for Alex.'

‘Heavens, surely I'm allowed a few tears when I see my son for the first time in almost a year!' she said indignantly, and heard his breath come out on a sigh.

‘I'm sorry, Elise. But I don't want the boy to grow up a sissy.'

‘Don't worry, he won't,' she said sharply.

Then, unable to continue the conversation, she lapsed into a silence that lasted until they reached Kowloon.

From the outside the house looked exactly as she had remembered it during the eight long months she had been away. Hiding its bay windows and bright paintwork behind a hedge of evergreen shrubs, it might almost have been one of the English suburban houses it was built to imitate, so that to pass through the front door and hear the swish of the ceiling fans was almost a shock. The hall was tiled for coolness, but there was a Chinese rug to break up the square expanse, and a vase of fresh flowers stood on a rosewood table beside a stately grandmother clock.

In the doorway Elise stood for a moment, breathing in the familiarity and also the difference – surely the hall hadn't been that big before? Had the stairs always curved away so spaciously? And the way the sun slanted in through the open doorway behind her, making a bright patch in the midst of the shadow – it was more like turning the pages of an often-read book and finding them suddenly come to life than stepping in to a house which had been her home for almost five years.

But her pause was momentary only. A house was, after all, only a house and it was Alex she wanted to see. The impatience welled up in her, and, her voice trembling with eagerness, she called, ‘Alex – Alex! Are you there?'

In the hush of the afternoon her voice sounded loud and she felt a stab of intense disappointment. Perhaps Su Ming had taken him out somewhere. Oh, she hoped not! After all these months she suddenly could not bear the thought of a minute's more delay.

‘Mummy! Mummy!'

Shrieks of excitement, a door banging and running feet shattered the hush, then Alex exploded into the hall. Elise had a brief glimpse of a round, freckled face beneath a fringe of sandy hair, a small, compact body clad in open-necked shirt and light grey shorts, and gangling legs that ended in neatly turned-down grey ankle socks and sturdy sandals. Then Alex hurled himself at her, almost knocking her over with the force of his enthusiasm as she dropping to her knees, hugging him to her with his face against hers. His arms were right around her neck, his knees fitting into the valley beneath her breasts, the fresh soap smell of his skin tickling her nose. Su Ming had had him clean and ready to meet her, she supposed, waiting after all this time for the mother he had probably begun to think would never come back.

‘Oh Alex!' she whispered, and suddenly the tears were there once again, filling her eyes and running unchecked down her cheeks. ‘Oh, darling, I've missed you so much!'

After a moment he began to wriggle, his sandals skidding the silk skirt of her dress round on the tiled floor. She released him a little, smiling through her tears and he looked at her curiously.

‘Mummy, you're crying! Why
are
you crying?'

‘Alex, don't bother your mother with silly questions the moment she gets back.'

The voice had the lilt of the Orient and Elise looked up, drawing her hand across her face. She hadn't heard Su Ming come in, but then she had been engrossed in Alex and Su Ming always moved quietly and economically. She stood there now: a small, neat girl with dark, slanting eyes and a round face beneath a smooth cap of shining black hair.

‘Hello, Su Ming.'

‘Hello, Mrs Sanderson.' But there was a reserve in her voice, and Elise thought: She doesn't sound very pleased to see me.

‘Why, Mummy?' Alex persisted. ‘Why are you crying?'

Elise smiled at him through her tears.

‘Sometimes people cry when they're happy, Alex. And I'm so happy to see you.'

‘Well, I'm happy to see you but I'm not crying.'

She buried her face in him again, aware that she would be incurring Gordon's displeasure and not caring. Alex had the rest of his life to learn to be a man. For the moment he was a child, her son, her little boy.

‘Let your mother breathe, Alex!' Gordon said, and Su Ming stepped forward efficiently.

‘You're treading all over her skirt, Alex. You will spoil it. Come here now, there's a good boy.'

Alex wriggled as if to obey, but Elise kept hold of his shoulders. She had waited so long for this moment, and now she felt unwilling to let him go ever again.

‘Let me look at you, Alex.' She held him at arm's length. ‘My goodness, you've grown!'

‘Yes. I can do a lot of things now. I can read …'

‘I heard. You must show me …

‘And I've been to the Cricket Club with Daddy.'

‘Cricket!'

‘And I can play mah-jong a little, too.'

‘Oh, Alex!'

‘But Mummy.' His face puckered slightly, intense with concentration. ‘Where have you been?'

‘You know I went to Cairo to say goodbye to Grandma?'

‘But that was a long time ago.'

‘Yes, it was, I'm afraid. I had awful problems …'

‘And you're different.' Alex screwed up his eyes, looking at her intently.

‘Different? Different how?' She laughed a little.

‘I don't know, I'm not sure. Your hair's sort of the same. But you don't
feel
the same. And I haven't seen that dress before,' he added accusingly.

‘I lost all my others,' Elise said. ‘I lost some of the things I had bought for you, too.'

‘Oh!' His face fell. ‘Haven't you
go anything
for me?'

‘Yes, but …'

‘Show me! Show me!'

‘Alex, give your mother a chance,' Su Ming interrupted.

‘It's all right,' Elise said, irritated by the way the Chinese girl was standing over them. ‘Gordon, could you ask one of the boys to unpack the red trunk? There are some parcels …'

‘
Red
trunk?' Alex repeated. ‘You haven't got a red trunk.'

‘Yes, I have. My others were lost.'

‘It seems to me you were very careless,' Alex said seriously. ‘It seems to me you lost just about everything. If
I
lost things like that, I would probably get a spanking.'

Elise laughed, loving his childish frankness. A coolie struggled in with the red trunk in which she had packed souvenirs and presents and she opened it there in the hall, searching amongst the packages for the slippers she had bought for Su Ming and the wooden toys from Penang for Alex. As she passed them to him, he picked eagerly at the wrapping and squealed with delight. Then, not satisfied with opening his own gifts, he began investigating everything else in the trunk as well, and before she could stop him he had pulled out the dragon urn.

‘Oh Mummy, I like him!' He was thoroughly over-excited now. ‘Can I have him, please?'

Elise's heart constricted. ‘Not that one, darling. That one's mine.'

‘Oh, please, Mummy!'

‘No, Alex, I'm sorry.'

‘Oh, don't be mean. I want him for my room …'

‘Alex!' Gordon said sharply. ‘Behave yourself! You heard your mother say the dragon is hers. You don't want it, anyway; it's an ornament, not a toy. And it's rather ugly, if you want my opinion,' he added in an aside to Elise. ‘ Whatever made you buy it?'

‘I bought it because I liked it,' Elise said defensively.

‘And so do I.' Alex's small face was subdued. He picked at the sleeve of her dress with one hand while the other stretched out longingly towards the dragon. ‘I like it best, Mummy, even if it is yours and you say I can't have it.'

She laughed, shaking her head. Alex might have grown, but he had not altered in his ways. She could read him like a book – he was still hoping that if he looked dejected enough she would change her mind and let him have the dragon. But this time he was going to be disappointed. Having the dragon was like having something of Brit with her still. And nothing on earth would induce her to part with it, not even the pleadings of her much loved son.

‘Mrs Sanderson, Alex would like to go to the Jade Market. I will take him if that is all right with you.'

It was two days later and Su Ming had come into the breakfast room where Elise was lingering over a cup of her favourite jasmine tea, hovering in the doorway in a manner that was faintly irritating.

It wasn't her suggestion which made the hackles rise, thought Elise. Alex loved to see the Jade Market, spilling a tide of green stones across the pavements in Canton Road, and always had. No, it was the way she phrased it, making it quite clear that she had already made her plans and was almost resentful of having to present them for Elise's approval.

While I was away she got used to being in sole charge for most of the time, Elise decided, and was forced to stifle a childish urge to tell Su Ming that no,
it
was not all right to take Alex to the Jade Market.

‘I suppose so, Su Ming,' she said.