I reached out and touched his arm. ‘How?’
‘We bumped into each other, literally. In the hotel lobby. She was a stunner. Tall, slim, dark hair…’ He examined something at the bottom of his pint glass.
‘What’s her name?’
‘Nancy. She’s Chinese. Her name’s Nancy Lee.’ He drifted away again watching the ghoulish preparations.
One of the helpers brushed past me with an armful of fake cobweb. Some of it attached itself to my shoulder and I brushed it away. Finally, I asked what happened.
‘She works for her father’s company but does part-time work as a tourist guide. She took me to the house – the castle. She knew the whole history. She seemed to be really interested in me and the Kellie-Smith thing. We started getting along. I thought we had a spark. I really did. I fell for her, Steve. Really fell for her…’
It was time for me to study my pint, holding it up to the light to check for cloudiness. ‘Did she give you any inkling she felt the same way?’
He shook his head and when he looked up his eyes swam with tears. ‘Nothing obvious. But I felt she liked me.’ He wiped a palm across the table top. ‘I felt – you know in a sort of body-language way – that she fancied me. That there was chemistry. But I worried about the difference – our ages and her being Chinese and me a Brit.’
‘How old is she?’
‘Dunno. Maybe early-thirties.’ He took his wallet out of his pocket and removed a photograph. ‘Look. This is her in front of the castle.’
Nancy Lee was everything he had described. It was easy to see why he had fallen for her. ‘Hmm. What are you, forty? That’s no difference. Maybe the cultural thing, I can see why you may have held back. Did you make a move?’
He snorted as he took the picture from me and studied it. ‘You can hardly call it – what do the Americans say? – “coming on to her”. I just asked her to join me for dinner one night.’
‘Nothing wrong with that. Did she turn you down?’
‘No, worse.’ He had such a sad smile. ‘She brought her boyfriend along.’
‘Oops!’
‘It got worse: he was obviously so not her boyfriend. Not romantically anyway. He was such a lightweight. Okay, they may have known each other – she said since school – but even I could tell there was nothing romantic. He just sat there talking Mandarin, or whatever it is they speak; he was there to keep me at bay. His name was Lang-ren. What sort of bloody name is Lang-ren?’
‘She wanted you to know that she wasn’t up for… romance.’
‘That’s pretty much the size of it.’
‘What did she say next day?’
‘I didn’t wait to find out. I checked out, drove to KL and got the first available flight.’
‘You haven’t spoken to her?’
‘I couldn’t face it. I’d really fallen for her. There was something about the trip that set me up for meeting her. After a couple of days, I was ready to ask whether I should stay in Malaysia. Whether she might think about coming to the UK. I wanted to talk about the future… our future… and she brought that stupid Lang-ren.’ He stood up abruptly. ‘I need a pee. I’ll get another round in on the way back.’ He rubbed his face as he dodged between the swinging dummies of the undead on his way to the toilets.
Life returned to the routine. I oversaw the operation of the cinema and Mick and I held our regular meetings. He seemed to be on the mend. He never mentioned Nancy. Nor did he address the elephant in the room – the fact that we were cousins – each other’s nearest relative.
When he came back from Malaysia and told me about Nancy, I admit it didn’t take me long to realise that she, or someone like her, represented, not a threat exactly, but a different take on our relationship. The cinema was fine; we had a partnership agreement. I was comfortable with us being business partners first, friends second and our being cousins hardly mattered at all. I was ten years older than him so I had no reason to consider that Mick’s money might play a part in my future. But if he married and I was no longer his next of kin, what did it mean for me?
This conundrum whirled in my head for weeks and when the envelope from Malaysia arrived – its origin obvious from the row of garish stamps along its top edge – addressed in a shaky hand to Mick Kellie at the Film Factory Picture House, Richmond, Surrey, naturally I steamed it open.
That same evening, after reading the contents, I glued back the flap, added a strip of Sellotape to cover any signs of it being tampered with and put it in Mick’s postbox.
15
Dear Mr Mick
I have been crying most of time since you left. You went without saying goodbye. I did not have chance to explain. This is what I do now.
You were such a gentleman with me but not knowing how I felt about you right from when I bumped into you in the hotel lobby. Of course, this was not a mistake. I meant it that we meet this way and when I explain why, I hope you be kind to me and forgive me.
When we were on the roof of the castle you went to the edge and I told you be careful. I told you that a man had fallen there five years ago. But I didn’ t say I knew this man. His name Luis Escobar. Like you did, he said he was relative of Mr William Kellie-Smith. When he came to Ipoh my father tell me to act as his guide. Why he do this? Because my father S Y Lee. His company own the Kellas Plantation and the Kellas House land. I’ m sorry I could not tell you this.
Mr Luis was finding out that maybe the transfer of land to Leeyate Holdings was not safe and he could say that Kellas Land still belonged to Kellie family. But before he could try he have accident at night and fall from roof. He the man who died.
That time I worked in bank and came to Ipoh special to see Mr Luis. Now I work in Ipoh for my father and he call me in and say another relative to Mr William Kellie-Smith is fishing around. This time man called Mr Mick Kellie.
When you came out of restaurant I made sure to bump into you and drop my leaflets. You were gentleman. Helped me to get up and collected my dropped. You held my hand and I felt like in electric storm when neck tingles. Your blues eyes made me feel things like I had not felt since being teenager. I am blushing to remember such feelings and now feeling same again I am shaking almost!
I think you must knew how I feel when I nearly drive car into wall! And you all time, you so cool Mr Westerner not flustered like me. When you look at me I go to jelly almost but you not feeling the same way I think.
You thinking, but Lee Lai Ping (yes you can call me by Chinese name if you like) was student in England. She must have gone out with English boys. This is a little true but no feelings from those days was like the first hours with you.
Did you have same thunderbolt – same feelings for Lai Ping? I see now that you think Chinese girls be treated properly like lady. But all time I did not want it so much.
At end of first day I could tell you like me just a little bit. You like me being thin with good figure. I am taller than most Chinese girls. And more you gave me feelings that maybe you like me the more trouble I took to look good for you.
You made me feel in small ways that you like me too. When I laughed when you made joke you made joke again because you liked me be happy.
But all time with you I behave like good daughter and, even though trembling with emotion because with you, I show you round Kellas House and explain the story of family and building and what happen.
When you said we would have dinner I knew it was you like me. I also know that you (even though I did not feel this) could be westerner who takes advantage. You ask me to dinner and then to have coffee in your room. I know if this happen I not able to resist my body wants. I could not let this happen. My father – my place in business – all make it so wrong. So I bring Lang-ren along as my boyfriend. It make me sad now I remember your face when you see me with Lang-ren in lobby of your hotel. It was cruel trick.
In dinner you ask why S Y Lee’ s company not make house a tourist attraction. You also felt romance in house. You said about buying it from my
father’ s company and donating it to people of Perak. This make you so noble and I felt even more bad about how we trick on you.
But I also see that if my father decide to sell to you, what if you find house didn’ t belong to him? How much money he loose? And if he decided not to sell it make me afraid to keep you safe not like Mr Luis.
It is real thing you not be safe. I engaged to Tommy Lee, but I not love him so will break with him if you care something for me. Then his family loose face and make trouble.
I had to let you think nothing here for you in Malaysia and you go away. I was wrong. There is something here for you if you still want. It is me. You should not come back here in case it not safe. Also me coming to you not safe because is Tommy’ s side of family own Number 8 Hotel not far away in Kingston. This side of family not good for us so your stay away from them.
But I can escape my father if you help me. If you want it we plan something so we live together somewhere where S Y Lee can’ t find us. Not until after we find if feelings between us are good and true.
Will you send for me? I will go anywhere in your arms.
Your Nancy Lee (Lai Ping)
16
Of course, Mick wanted to discuss the letter with me. Who else did he have? He took it out of his pocket as we sat in TheDuke’s Head. Halloween had been and gone. The hanged dummies of the undead had come down and only we regulars remained to scare the occasional drifter-in away.
‘What’s that?’ I asked, my eyes wide.
‘The letter that was sent to The Factory. The one you dropped by.’
‘From Malaysia,’ I said.
‘That’s right?’ His frown and the rise in his tone questioned how I knew.
‘The stamps,’ I said. I had to be on my toes here, pretending to be unaware of its contents. Before the letter arrived, I had only known that Luis had died in a fall from the castle roof. I hadn’t known for certain that he had been suspicious about who owned the castle, nor that Nancy had been Luis’s guide and she suspected his death may not have been an accident. ‘Who’s it from?’ My brain was racing at top speed but I had to keep my voice in a low gear.
‘Nancy.’ He shuffled the pages. ‘It turns out she did feel the same about me. But there were complications…’ He shook his head as if he was looking for something on the pages that wasn’t there.
‘Complications?’
‘Her family – our family.’ He shook his head and swore under his breath. ‘Families! Who’d bloody have ‘em?’ He sighed. ‘It’s a long story. It turns out that I had a relative – a second cousin I think he’d be. He went over to look at the castle about five years ago.’
Should I have said that I had met Luis Escobar – that he was my cousin? No. This was Mick’s story. It was more important now to focus on where this thing with Nancy Lee was going. But I still needed to react properly. ‘A cousin. We have another relative. There’s not just the two of us?’
‘There was another but he died.’ He riffled the papers as if seeking confirmation.
‘Blimey!’ I said.
‘Nancy – my Nancy – showed him round too. Only he was interested in finding out whether the Kellie Smith family had any claims on the plantation and the house. She implied his death may not have been an accident.’
I paused as if I was putting two and two together and acted confused. ‘But why would one thing lead to another? This cousin finding out something and then dying. How would she know?’
Mick tutted as if I was missing a point. ‘Because her family owns the damn castle. They think anybody connected to the Kellie Smiths is a problem for them. Or at least for her father, this S Y Lee character.’
‘So when you went along saying, “I’m a Kellie Smith” they weren’t so pleased to see you.’
‘Exactly. When I was there asking about why the owners weren’t doing more with the house she was worried for me.’
‘You can understand it. If she really believed that this other cousin had been killed because he was too nosy, knowing you were going to… try it on with her—’ I rolled my hands around each other in what I hoped was a moving-things-along gesture ‘—she anticipated that the longer you stayed, the more questions about the castle you’d have. She took her boyfriend to the date to stop you in your tracks. She was only looking out for you.’
‘Yes! But now she’s had second thoughts and wants to meet up – more than that, she suggested we go away together—’ it all started coming in a rush ‘—more than that even. She wants to run away from her family. But not here. They’d know she’d be here and her father has family in Kingston. They’d find her and take her back. She wants me to tell her where and she’ll come to me. It’s not much of a plan. The upshot is that she wants us to try out how we feel about each other. That makes sense, doesn’t it?’ He gulped back some beer.
‘I don’t know. Where could you go? What about The Factory?’
He gave me an exasperated look. ‘Where’s your sense of romance, Steve? She wants me and I want her. We’ll go somewhere and see if it works. If it does we’ll confront the… mundane things like her family and what to do with The Factory then.’
I held myself back when he called our connection mundane. ‘That’s how it looks to you. But what about her family? What if they come after you?’
‘But I’m not a threat to the land – I couldn’t care less about the bloody castle. It’s the daughter I want.’
I sucked air between my teeth. I recalled how, in her letter, Nancy had told Mick that Tommy Lee’s side of the family would lose face and could react badly if he and Nancy went ahead with her plan. ‘It depends on the family, I suppose, and how modern they are. To them it could be worse that you want the daughter.’
He waved this aside with a flick of his wrist. ‘We can worry about that when the time comes. Look, she’s in her thirties, for God’s sake. They’ve got no hold over her. They let her live over here for three years when she was a student.’
The germ of plan was sprouting at the back of my mind. I wasn’t totally sure what had prompted it, but I knew that I should maintain some influence over where this was going. ‘All right then. Let’s say you’re going to meet up and spend time together. It’s got to be somewhere nobody expects you to go. Somewhere with modern communication so I can keep you up to date with what’s going on here… but obscure.’
‘A European capital would be good. With connections.’
I had only been to one European capital and it was the obvious choice. I had to make it appear to be his idea. ‘Let’s look at the options: Paris is too near, Berlin may be too far east. Needs to be western Europe… Spain might be good or Por—’
‘Portugal! Lisbon, of course! It’s the romantic choice.’
‘Why?’
‘Don’t you remember? It’s where William Kellie-Smith went while he was building the castle.’
‘But he died there.’
‘That’s what makes it romantic.’
‘It’s certainly not obvious. There’s no reason her family would look for you there.’
‘Lisbon! We’ll meet there!’
‘How can you organise it without her family knowing?’
‘We’ll both set up one of those new AOL personal e-mail things. They’re safe.’
‘That’s settled then,’ I said. ‘Let’s drink to Lisbon.’
For the next two weeks Mick was off my radar with only occasional contact to check in on the cinema. At those brief meetings, I’d ask how it was going with Nancy or he’d tag on notes to his e-mails: She’s comingto Lisbon! We’re sorting out flights. That sort of thing.
My routine managing The Film Factory allowed me time to think. After Luis died, in the years before I chanced upon The Vineyard and the empty Kellie factory, I had given up on the idea of finding a family. I had come to terms with being alone. Mick’s branch of the Kellie family fell into my lap and I became his friend doing something that I really loved. The prospect of his marriage to Nancy was unsettling;
it put a barrier between me and my newly-found family. This was how I felt when he called and asked for us to meet on the Monday morning in the foyer of The Factory.
We stood next to the new push-button machine while it chuntered and whirred out two cappuccinos. I glanced guiltily through the window at the coffee shop on the corner that we no longer needed to frequent. We took our cups and sat on one of the Chesterfield sofas that were positioned either side of a low table.
Mick looked out through the smoked-glass frontage as if he too had been thinking about the coffee shop.
‘You okay?’ I asked.
He shook his head as if to spin his thoughts away. ‘Yeah. I was just thinking. Twenty… no thirty… years ago, when this was the only Kellie factory, I used to work here in the school holidays and on Saturdays.’
I contemplated my cup. ‘Long time.’
‘I used to fetch sandwiches and drinks for the shop-floor workers from that place over there.’ He pointed to the coffee shop. ‘It was a Colonial Stores—’
A sharp pang of recollection tightened my chest. For a split-second I was back wearing a Colonial Stores apron as I pedalled along the Waterloo Road on my delivery bike.
‘—You know, a place where they sliced and weighed out ham and other cold meat to make up sandwiches and rolls. They sold cakes – iced Chelsea buns. The machine operators here all loved the iced Chelsea buns from over the road. They’re not the same these days.’ He sighed, took a pensive sip of his coffee and smiled. ‘But I didn’t ask you to come over to talk about Chelsea buns.’
‘Why did you want to see me?’
‘Just to let you know, I’m off on Friday. I’ve cabled money to Nancy and she’s driving to Singapore on Wednesday. She’s flying from there to Paris, getting a train to Schiphol and from there flying to Lisbon. We’ll meet there on Saturday.’
Once upon a time in Chinatown Page 21