The Touch (44 page)

“Would you mind encoding this?” Elizabeth handed over two pages of her handwriting, small and cramped. “I know it’s terribly long, but I need Alexander’s advice on Dr. Wyler’s report. If I decide on a course without consulting him, he’ll be furious.”

“I’d code the Bible for you, Elizabeth, you know that.” Ruby took the sheets and read them swiftly. “Jesus, it goes on and on, doesn’t it? Poor, poor Anna!”

“We’ll come through it, Ruby. But I’m not going to have Alexander say we didn’t explain every ramification.”

“I suspect from the tone of his first answer that he’s very shaken, though he won’t admit it.” Ruby put the papers down and lit a cheroot. “How, I don’t know, but the word of what’s happened to Anna is out,” she said. “People are boiling about it—I’ve never seen such a mood of anger. Even the ministers of religion have forgotten the bit about turning the other cheek. If we did know who it was, he’d be lynched. I’ve had Theodora in tears, Mrs. Wilkins asking me how to word a leaflet to be distributed to every family with young girls, and Sung sharpening his beheading axe. White or Chinese, everyone is foaming at the mouth.” She emitted a gush of smoke, looking very dragonish. “But no one can come up with a name. Usually in situations like this—no, I mean in situations that create such outrage—some poor coot is tagged as the culprit for no good reason except he’s disliked. But not this time. Kinross doesn’t have one of those perverts who try to kiss or fondle girls, so, like me, the general consensus is that it was a commercial traveler who hasn’t been back.”

“There’s one thing wrong with that,” said Elizabeth. “Surely to give poor little Anna so much familiar pleasure in what he did, he had to have done it many more times than once. Commercial travelers never stay more than two days.”

“Yes, but they’re a club. The word about Anna might have spread among them—her ‘nice man’ might have been a dozen ‘nice men,’ ” Ruby said, keen on this theory.

“I don’t believe that. I believe it’s someone local, and so does Jade,” said Elizabeth, looking stubborn.

JADE DID INDEED believe that Anna’s molester was someone from Kinross. Though Anna was Miss Lizzy’s baby, both had been so ill that it had fallen to Jade to be Anna’s mother. Unmarried she might be, but Jade was not without some sexual experience that dated back to early years before taking service with Miss Ruby in Hill End. Prince Sung had decreed that she go into service with Miss Ruby, and had chosen Pink Bird from among the seven Wong sisters to be his concubine. Had Jade asked for a husband, one would have been found for her, but after weighing the alternatives, Jade had decided on service as the easier life. Then Miss Lizzy had come along, and she transferred from Miss Ruby to Miss Lizzy, a kinder mistress. Having Anna as her own was like having a baby without the pain of birth or the awful nuisance of a father. No amount of hard work or long hours could matter to Jade, who loved the feeble, mewling little scrap as her own from the first day of Anna’s existence. Nor did it ever occur to Jade to condemn Miss Lizzy for those first months of indifference to Anna; Miss Lizzy had had a hard time of it, and Mr. Alexander was not the husband or father of her choice. How Jade knew that was a mystery, for at no time had Miss Lizzy said anything, or given away what she felt by some facial expression. She also knew—again, how was a mystery—that Miss Lizzy was attracted to Lee, and that Lee was in love with her. Considering that Jade’s life went on in Anna’s domain, it was remarkable how much Jade knew.

Nothing in a household can be hidden from its old retainers, who are a part of the family in every way. Jade was the oldest and most faithful retainer, more attached to Anna than even Butterfly Wing was to Nell. And Jade knew what Elizabeth couldn’t bear to know: that Anna’s fate hung in the balance. Anna had a father, a father as powerful and imperious as Prince Sung, and he would see what had happened to Anna in a very different way from the way of women. Under the eternal law of all races, he would make the decisions. When Anna turned out to be mental, he had been so understanding, so merciful. But that was twelve years ago, and Mr. Alexander was not the same man he had been then. If Miss Lizzy had loved him—but Miss Lizzy did not. He would sit as a judge in a high elaborate chair removed from the sphere of women, and consider the case with the utmost dispassion, his intent to make a reasonable and logical decision according to the lights of men. How then to say that a reasonable and logical decision could break hearts? How to prevent him from committing Anna to an asylum?

Too beside herself to weep, Jade lay at night in her bed in Anna’s room listening to the soft breathing of her grown-up baby, and resolved that she would find the man who had destroyed Anna’s world, Anna’s chance at happiness as one of the innocents.

“Miss Lizzy,” she said to Elizabeth after Dr. Wyler’s visit, “I need a holiday. Hung Chee in the Chinese medicine shop says I have a broken-down heart and must undergo the needles. I’ve spoken to Butterfly Wing, who is happy to take over my duties—Nell doesn’t need her much, and she feels it badly.”

“Of course, Jade,” Elizabeth said, then looked fearful. “I hope you are still paid for your holidays? Mr. Alexander hasn’t been himself about wages lately.”

“Oh, yes, Miss Lizzy, I will be paid.”

“Out of curiosity, how much are you girls paid?”

“More than Mr. Alexander’s mining supervisors. He says we’re harder to find and must be looked after.”

“Thank God for that! Do you have any idea where you’d like to go for your holiday?”

Jade looked surprised. “Into Kinross, Miss Lizzy. I have to be treated with the needles. I’m going to stay with Miss Theodora, who is going to paint her house. I can help.”

“That is not a holiday, Jade.”

But Jade had gone, jubilant at how easily her first task had been done. She packed a valise and took the cable car down to the town, where a slightly bewildered Theodora Jenkins awaited her.

Though the days of giving piano lessons at Kinross House were in the past, thanks to Nell’s outstripping her teacher and Elizabeth’s loss of interest after Anna’s birth, Theodora Jenkins had settled very comfortably into her Kinross life. Dear Sir Alexander gave her a generous pension—quite what for, she had no idea—and still allowed her free tenancy of her beloved little house. She gave piano and singing lessons when she felt a child showed promise, played the magnificent organ at St. Andrew’s, and belonged to every club and society in town, from gardening to amateur dramatics. Her bread was famous and carried off first prize every year at the Kinross Show, though, gentle and grateful creature that she was, she gave the credit for her baking to the cast-iron cooking range Sir Alexander had placed in her kitchen.

He was such a mixture, Sir Alexander. Theodora suspected that if he liked you, he would do anything for you, but that if he did not like you, or you were just one of a large number of employees, he would do nothing for you beyond ensure that the town you lived in, namely Kinross, was superior to every other country town. And that was still true, despite the cut in Chinese workers who kept Kinross town looking good and functioning well.

Jade had come to her and asked if she might stay for a few days while Hung Chee in the Chinese medicine shop treated her broken-down heart. The request had surprised Theodora, who wondered why Jade hadn’t gone to Ruby at the hotel, or else just went up and down the mountain on the cable car. However, Ruby had a reputation as a hard mistress, and perhaps having dozens of needles stuck in you made trips on the cable car an unpleasant experience. Whatever. Theodora Jenkins only knew that no one was ever going to stick her full of needles!

“Such a terrible business, Jade,” she said over a scratch supper of bubble-and-squeak. “I’m not surprised it’s affected you so badly, dear.”

“Hung Chee says I would improve if we found out who did it,” said Jade, who loved bubble-and-squeak.

“I know what he means, but, alas, no one has any idea, none at all.” Theodora looked at Jade’s empty plate. “My goodness, cooking for one means I never cook enough for two! Would you like some fried bread, Jade? Or some buttered pound cake?”

“Buttered pound cake, please, Miss Theodora. Tomorrow I’ll cook Chinese pork and egged rice, and coconut bean curd for our dessert.”

“What a delightful change! I look forward to it.”

“You must know everyone in Kinross, Miss Theodora, and better than Miss Ruby does too. She sees the men who go to the hotel for a drink, but there are a lot of people who can’t afford to eat in her dining room, even on special occasions, and Miss Ruby doesn’t go to church on Sundays either,” said Jade, scoffing cake thickly slathered with butter.

“That’s true,” said Theodora.

“Then you must think, Miss Theodora. Think about every single person who lives in Kinross or visits regularly.”

“I have already, Jade.”

“Not hard enough,” said Jade, sounding inexorable.

She left it at that and let Theodora proceed to discuss the painting of her cottage, which turned out to be its exterior.

“Sam has agreed to do it for me—cream with a brown trim. I have the paint and the brushes and the sandpaper for him, just as he asked. He starts tomorrow.”

“Sam?” Jade asked, frowning. “Sam who?”

“Sam O’Donnell. He was one of the miners dear Sir Alexander let go last July. The rest moved to Broken Hill or Mount Morgan, but Sam decided to stay here. Well, he’s single and not a drinker—goes to Evensong on Sunday nights at St. Andrew’s and sings beautifully in alto. Scripps the painter is hopeless—so sad, Jade, to think that some men would rather guzzle drink than look after their own families! So Sam paints houses he can manage on his own, and does odd jobs when he hasn’t any houses to paint. He’ll chop wood, dig your potatoes, lump coal.” Theodora turned pink, tittered. “He’s always happy to do things for me because I give him a loaf of my bread as well as the few shillings he asks for his work. He asks twenty pounds to paint a house and do it properly—you know, burn the old paint off and scrape all the boards down, then sand them. Very reasonable. Since dear Sir Alexander lets me live here, I feel that it behooves me to care for the place at my expense.”

“Where does Sam live?” asked Jade, trying to picture him.

“He camps out by the dam, I believe. He has a big, strange-looking dog named Rover, and the two are inseparable. You’ll meet Sam and Rover tomorrow.”

The name had finally found a reference in Jade’s memory. “Sam O’Donnell. Isn’t he the one who brought in that union man, Bede Whatsit, just before the big strikes?”

“I wouldn’t know, dear, though I understand that the miners don’t like him. Everybody else does—I mean the women of Kinross, who often find it hard to dig their potatoes or chop wood. Sam is indispensable to a lot of women, particularly those like me who do not have a husband to help.”

“It sounds as if Sam likes to charm women,” said Jade.

Theodora took on the mien of an agitated fowl. “No, no, it isn’t like that!” she cried. “Sam is an absolute gentleman—for instance, he would never come inside a woman’s house, just leans through the kitchen window to get his tea and bikkies.” Horror dawned. “Jade! You’re surely not thinking that Sam is the one? He isn’t, I swear he isn’t! Sam is very kind to women and very respectful, but I always have the feeling that he’s not—well, interested in women, if you know what I mean.”

“Young men? Little boys?” asked Jade.

Theodora squawked and fluttered madly. “Jade! Really! No, I do not mean that! I mean that he’s happy with his life the way it is, I suppose. There are several widows who have made—er—overtures to him, but he turns them aside so tactfully that no one is hurt. Mrs. Hardacre is quite young and pretty and has a considerable amount of money, but Sam wouldn’t even paint her house.”

“You defend him so well, Miss Theodora, that I must accept your judgment of him.”

Theodora got up to clear the dishes, suddenly sorry that she had allowed Jade to stay with her. What if Jade was nasty to dear Sam, or asked impertinent questions? The last thing in the world Theodora wanted was to drive away her house painter and odd-job man. Oh dear, oh dear!

WHEN SAM O’DONNELL turned up at seven the next morning to start stripping the old paint off Theodora’s house, Jade was by Theodora’s side to welcome him.

Very handsome in a white man’s way, she decided. Tall, a graceful mover with the overly long, sinewy arms of someone who had shorn sheep for a number of years, fair hair, and endowed with a pair of twinkling eyes whose color changed—blue, grey, green. They slid over Jade without lighting up as the eyes of a man who lusts after women do, and not because she was Chinese. Jade was still a beautiful woman, and the white blood in her gave her large, well-opened eyes the look of a deer—she knew she was as attractive to white men as she was to Chinese. But Sam O’Donnell was unmoved. His manner toward Theodora, who had turned twittery at the sight of him, was impeccable. He gave her no hope whatsoever, yet was warmly friendly.

In his wake stalked a big dog of the very new kind specially bred to heel cattle—a dappled blue-grey coat and a black head containing a large brain pan. The animal’s amber eyes were alert, watchful, slightly sinister. As if it knew it had to behave, but some primitive instinct inside it hungered to tear throats.

Sam checked what Theodora had assembled, nodded and unearthed a blowtorch from his tool bag. “Thanks, Miss Jay, she’s apples,” he said, beginning to fill the blowtorch’s reservoir with spirits.

Obviously they were dismissed. Theodora went back into the house, Jade following her with a backward look. But Sam O’Donnell was not staring after them; he was still preparing his blowtorch. No, sighed Jade to herself, I don’t think it’s Sam O’Donnell.

For seven days she prowled the town, including the Chinese village and Sung’s pagoda city hill, talking to every person she encountered, even if some of the whites and Chinese didn’t want to talk to her. Prejudice from both races was a part of Jade’s inheritance, so her skin was thick and her persistence oblivious to lack of co-operation. Probe, pick, push. Jade on this errand was not to be deflected.