‘It doesn’t. But it does to the Mandarin. They’re his terms. He’s the arbiter of life and death, not me.’
‘This is madness. I don’t believe you.’
He would have argued more, but at that moment Helen Frances burst into the room, a Gladstone bag in her hand, her hair dishevelled. She stopped short at the sight of Henry, and for a moment the two of them stared at each other awkwardly. Then with a cry she threw herself into his arms. ‘Oh, my darling, they told me you were dead, you were dead. Oh, thank God, thank God, thank God…’ and she covered his bruised face with wild kisses of joy.
The children were sitting up in bed with their mouths open, and Airton stood by helplessly, not knowing what to do or say. That was the point when Nellie returned to the room, one hand supporting Tom who was leaning on his crutches. He looked at the lovers once, then turned his head away. Airton’s face went white with alarm.
Henry had been facing the door and, in the interval of her kisses, he too had seen Helen Frances’s fiancé enter the room. Gently he disengaged her. She turned her head to follow his look. ‘Oh, God,’ she said, and stepped aside, but she did not leave go of Henry’s arm. ‘Airton,’ Manners breathed, ‘trust you to make a pig’s ear of it all. I can’t take him, you know.
‘Hello, Tom,’ he said, in conversational tones.
‘Manners,’ Tom muttered, not raising his head.
‘We both look rather worse for wear, if you don’t mind my saying so. Boxers in your case?’
‘Yes,’ said Tom. ‘On the road back to Shishan. You?’
‘Lin’s beating, with the odd thrashing by the Mandarin’s prison warders after. Not really a gentle experience.’
‘Well. You survived, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, I did,’ said Henry.
‘I could’ve wished you hadn’t. There was a time when I was glad you were dead.’
‘I understand,’ said Henry.
‘I would have liked to kill you myself. For a long time—oh, well before the Boxers came—I dreamed of little else.’
‘I put the horns on you. It’s understandable.’
‘No, that’s not my point,’ said Tom, looking up with an anxious expression on his face. ‘You were—you were always the better man, you see.’
‘Bollocks, Tom.’
‘You were. That’s why the other night when HF…’
‘Oh, Tom, don’t say it,’ pleaded Helen Frances.
‘No, it’s true,’ said Tom. ‘HF, I never deserved you. I’m grateful for—for the time we had together, what you gave me … And now I’m glad Henry’s alive again for you.’
‘I can’t take you with us, Tom,’ said Henry gently.
‘I never intended to come. Sorry, Dr Airton, I led you on a bit, I’m afraid, when you asked me this afternoon. I saw the opportunity to see Henry, and HF, for just one last time, to say what I had to say. Settle my account, so to speak. Apologise once and for all for being such an ass.’
‘Oh, Tom,’ said Helen Frances. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’
‘No, don’t be sorry. I’m not sorry. I think I can face this particular wicket rather well, in fact. Maybe cheer up some of the others on the way. It won’t be nice for the Millward children, or Caterina. And Fischer and that Fielding are in a bit of a funk. Team needs stiffening up. The old folks when they hear about it may yet find it in their hearts to be proud of me. One last match well played and so on. I have a letter for them, by the way. Maybe one of you could take it for me.’
‘You’re a brave man, Tom,’ said Henry. ‘I’m proud to know you.’ The two men shook hands. ‘Tom, I’m afraid we have to go,’ said Henry.
‘HF, the other night…’
‘Nothing happened, Tom. Nothing.’ She reached up to peck him on the cheek, then impulsively hugged him. It was Tom who finally pulled away.
‘Godspeed, HF.’
‘Godspeed, Tom.’
She touched his cheek. The big man hung on his crutches, his head bowed. She turned briskly away and picked up her portmanteau. Nellie had got the children out of bed. They were wearing their day clothes, and were now holding their mother’s hands, their eyes big with wonder at this dramatic turn of events.
‘Now, Doctor, are you coming?’ said Henry. ‘I haven’t the time to argue. You know what it means if you say no.’
‘I—I can’t,’ said Airton.
‘Then I can take none of you. That’s the deal I made with the Mandarin.’
‘Mr Manners, what is this?’ asked Nellie. ‘Edward, what is he saying?’
The door burst open, and Burton Fielding stood in the room, a knife in his hand. ‘I’ve seen you rats,’ he shouted, ‘skulking down the corridors. I’ve heard you cowards, planning your breakaway. But don’t think anyone is going anywhere without me.’
‘Who the hell are you?’ asked Manners. ‘This is like a vaudeville show.’
‘You want to know who I am?’ he yelled at Manners. ‘Whoever you are. I’m the superintendent of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions in China, and the senior minister here, not that any of you skunks show any respect for authority. Especially that cowardly cur Airton over there, who I see is the first to try to make a bunk of it, abandoning his duties. Well, if anybody’s leaving, I am,’ he finished, ‘and I’ll slice anybody who tries to stop me.’
They stared at him—as much in pity as amazement. Fielding’s eyes were blazing, and he was waving his knife like a madman. He might have caused some hurt had not the large figure of Septimus Millward suddenly appeared behind him, and held him fast, twisting the knife out of his hand so it dropped to the floor.
‘Gentlemen, ladies, I was woken by the commotion. Dr Airton, is this misguided man bothering you?’ he asked politely, gagging the struggling Burton Fielding with his large hand.
‘We were just leaving, actually,’ said Henry. ‘Or I hope we were. Doctor?’
‘How can I?’ snapped Airton angrily. ‘I can’t be party to any bargain with the Mandarin.’
‘Then your sensibilities do you credit, but you’ll be condemning your wife and children, and Helen Frances, to death. That’s your choice,’ said Henry, ‘and I’m asking for the last time. Major Lin will be wondering what’s going on and will be coming for me any minute.’
‘Nellie, what do I do?’
‘Edward, I can’t make this decision for you.’
‘Oh, my God,’ cried Airton, covering his face with his hands. ‘Help me.’
They all watched him in his agony. Only Septimus in his long Chinese gown appeared calm. He broke the tense silence. ‘Excuse me, Doctor, it’s none of my business, but do I understand that this man is offering you the choice between life and death for your family? And are you standing in the way of it? Are you not thereby putting yourself just a little in danger of succumbing to the mortal sin of pride?’
Airton slumped to the floor, breathing heavily. ‘I want nothing else,’ he said weakly, ‘than to escape with my family, but how can I? How can I?’
‘Through the window?’ was Septimus’s helpful suggestion. ‘That’s how I’d do it.’
‘Come on, you silly man. Up you get,’ said Nellie. ‘Tell us what to do, Mr Manners. Shall we follow you?’
One after another, they climbed through the window, and jumped down on to the grass, Henry supporting them from below. Septimus, who had locked the struggling, gagged Burton Fielding in the wardrobe as a temporary measure, handed down the ladies’ two portmanteaux, and the doctor’s medical bag, which he had noticed in a corner of the room. Henry gestured towards the shadows of the trees, where the cart was waiting. Luckily clouds were covering the moon so there was a good chance that they would not be spied by the Boxers, whose fires they could see burning down the hill. Henry hurried them along, carrying the ladies’ bags. Nellie steadied the stumbling George and Jenny, and Helen Frances carried Airton’s medical bag. The doctor, unencumbered, took one last agonised look behind him. Burned in his memory forever were the faces in the win
dow, not only of Septimus and Tom, but also of Herr Fischer, Caterina and Mr Bowers who had also presumably been wakened by the disturbance caused by Mr Fielding, and who had arrived in time to watch their pastor leave them. Their faces were sombre, wistful and, to the doctor, reproachful. None of them waved goodbye.
* * *
Those faces were all that the stunned doctor saw as they made their escape that night. He seemed hardly aware of what was happening, and had to be steered by Henry through the thick undergrowth. Lin and his soldiers were waiting for them by the cart, gesturing angrily to them to hurry. The Boxers might surprise them at any moment and the troopers had their carbines at the ready. Lin looked with displeasure at the portmanteaux, but threw them in all the same before bolting the tailgate. Slowly they moved off through the trees, the troopers leading their horses.
Only when they had reached the open road did Lin relax and order the soldiers to mount. Then they made a fast pace under the stars, bumping along the dirt track.
They stopped by a small farmhouse where there was a stack of hay in the courtyard. Lin ordered them to lie flat on the rough boards, and the soldiers proceeded to pile the hay on top of them. The doctor thought, I am being buried for my sins, but the reproachful faces continued to gaze at him when he closed his eyes.
They reached the city gates where there was an inspection of the cart. They heard rough voices demanding to know what Major Lin was doing arriving in the city in the dead of night. They heard him explaining that he was bringing hay for his stables, and what business was it of theirs at what hour he came or went? Perhaps they would like to take it up with the Mandarin, whose orders he was following. The gates creaked open, and they rattled on.
Before they reached the square they turned into a sidestreet. At last they stopped, and they heard Lin commanding them to get out of the cart. They pushed their way through the suffocating hay, scratching their faces as they did so. They were in a dark alley. Two stone lions guarded a wooden door. They were given black woollen cloaks, with hoods to cover their faces, then Lin rapped on the door. A hard-faced woman was waiting for them, her face caked in white powder and makeup. ‘Major Lin, how pleased I am to see you again,’ she simpered. ‘And Ma Na Si Xiansheng. It’s been such a long time.’ She raised her lantern and identified Helen Frances. ‘It’s not the first time that you’ve graced our establishment, is it, Xiaojie?’ She reached bony, ringed fingers forwards and gently pinched Helen Frances’s cheek. ‘And still as pretty as ever, I see.’ Helen Frances flinched away. ‘Well, do come in. Do come in,’ said the woman, hobbling on her lotus feet along the lantern-lined path. ‘You must all be very tired and hungry after your arduous journey. What sweet little children you have,’ she cooed. ‘It’s the famous Ai Dun Yisheng, isn’t it, unless I am much mistaken? Welcome, Daifu, welcome. All friends of the Mandarin are welcome here, you know. We are so honoured to have this chance to entertain you in our humble home.’
They moved through the courtyards. Helen Frances shuddered slightly when she saw the familiar pavilion, and Henry put a protective arm around her shoulder. The children gazed in awe. They had never seen such a palatial mansion.
‘Now, you must be very quiet as we go up the stairs’, said the woman. ‘The house is sleeping, but you never know who may be about. We are entertaining so many people, these days. So many guests—none of them, of course, as welcome as yourselves.’
They climbed the dark stairs, the woman puffing ahead of them. The odour of stale perfume pervaded the building, and they heard odd creaking noises coming from inside some of the rooms off the second landing, and once a loud brutal laugh, followed by a shrill squeal. George whimpered with fear. She turned, revealing a cruel smile as the lamp illuminated her face. ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of, little one. That’s only guests amusing themselves. I’d offer you a peep, but I’m sure your mother wouldn’t like that,’ and she chuckled to herself as she led them along the landing.
Up to a bare wall, or that was what it seemed like, but the woman lifted a scroll, and behind it turned a catch, and a door swung open to reveal another flight of steps. ‘Not far to go now,’ she said. ‘One at a time, please. Be very quiet. Isn’t it exciting, little ones? A secret door! Oh, what sweet little creatures you are,’ and she stroked Jenny’s hair. Nellie pulled her daughter away. Mother Liu laughed.
They reached a bare wooden gallery. ‘That’s my room,’ she said. ‘Please don’t hesitate to knock on my door at any time for any service whatsoever. And this is your room, Daifu.’ She opened a door to a room blazing with candles. It was dominated by a large red-covered four-poster bed, while on the floor were two futons which had presumably been prepared for the children to sleep on. Nellie’s eyes, however, were drawn to the paintings on the walls, which revealed lovers in various indecent positions. ‘Ah, you’ve noticed my art collection.’ Mother Liu smiled maliciously. ‘They’re by the finest artists, you know. I do so hope that you will be comfortable here, and enjoy your time with us.’
Still smiling, she closed the door behind her. They could hear her voice cooing along the corridor. ‘And for the lovers. Oh, I have a wonderful room prepared for you, Ma Na Si, and for your lady friend…’
Nellie dropped her portmanteau on to the sumptuous carpet. ‘Well, my dear, it seems that Henry and our Helen Frances are to spend a night of sin together,’ she said brightly.
Airton had slumped on the bed, his head in his hands. With an effort, he brought his attention back to what his wife was saying. ‘Yes,’ he muttered. ‘Yes, I suppose they are.’
‘Not much that we can do about it,’ said Nellie. ‘Anyway, it wouldn’t be for the first time. Let’s assume they’re already married in the sight of God.’
‘Aye,’ said Airton, weakly. ‘That would be generous.’
‘Come on, you.’ Nellie turned her attention to the children. ‘Jenny, will you stop gawping at those pictures. You’re far too young to understand them. Come on, into your beds now. And you, young man. We’ll all need our sleep for the days ahead of us.’
When she was satisfied that the children were comfortably tucked up, she sat down beside her husband, who was sitting on the bed, gazing listlessly at the floor. ‘Edward,’ she murmured, ‘is this place what I think it is?’
Airton groaned.
‘What would your brother James say, or my aged parents for that matter, if they knew we were spending a night together in a brothel? Can you imagine their long, solemn faces?’ She smiled. And then she began to laugh, a deep-throated, hearty laugh, which rocked the bed on which they were sitting.
The laughter disturbed Airton from his introspection. ‘Have you gone mad, woman?’ he rounded on her. ‘Do you realise where we are? Oh, what have I done? What have I done? Did you see their faces, Nellie, when we left them? And all to bring you to this Babylonian sink of iniquity. What have I done?’
Nellie kissed him. ‘You’ve saved my life and that of our children, that’s what you’ve done. You’ve been a good husband and father. And you were very brave. You’ve nothing to reproach yourself for, Edward, nothing. And I love you the more.’
But Airton dropped his head into his hands, the reproachful faces of Sister Caterina, Herr Fischer and Frederick Bowers accusing him of his desertion. He felt foul, corrupted, damned, to the extremities of his soul.
‘You can sit there feeling sorry for yourself if you like, my dear,’ said Nellie, after a while, ‘but I’m tired and want to go to bed.’
One by one she blew out the candles until the room was perfectly dark. Airton was left alone in the blackness contemplating the faces of all the people he had betrayed.
* * *
As soon as the cackling Mother Liu had closed the door on them, Henry and Helen Frances had fallen into each other’s arms, scrabbling with their hands to tear away each other’s clothes, devouring each other with their lips, teeth, tongues, grunting in their haste to press naked skin against naked skin, flesh against flesh.
‘Oh, my d
arling, your bruises. How I’ve … how I’ve…’
‘Oh, my love, my love. The thought of you…’
Each incoherent sentence was stopped by a hungry kiss.
Panting they wrenched away from each other. Henry hopped on one foot as he pulled off his boots. Helen Frances had already ripped the shirt from his back, and he her blouse. She fell back on the bed as she unclasped her skirt, wriggling out of it and throwing it aside. Henry had already kicked away his trousers. She lifted her arms, moaning with impatience as he pulled her chemise over her head. She lay back on the pillow, raising her lower body so that he could enter her. Blood tingling, eyes burning, hands trembling, she reached out for him.
But Henry stood frozen, staring at her.
Perplexed, she raised herself on her elbows.
‘Darling? What is it?’
‘Your stomach,’ he whispered.
She sank back on the pillows.
‘My God, I didn’t know,’ he said.
She groaned. A tear formed in her eye. ‘I couldn’t bring myself to tell you,’ she whispered. ‘I knew … I knew in the Black Hills. That’s why I said I wanted to leave Shishan. But surely it’s different now? It doesn’t matter now?’ Her eyes pleaded. ‘It’s different, isn’t it?’ She was weeping.
‘Yes, it’s different,’ said Henry, his eyes widening. ‘Oh, God,’ he said. ‘Oh, God, what have I done? What have I done?’
Her eyes implored him. ‘Love me.’ It was hardly a whisper.
‘Oh, my darling,’ he cried, taking her into his arms, covering her face with kisses.
‘Oh, God, if I’d known … I’d known.’ Softly his palm cupped the light protuberance of her belly, where the life was growing inside. ‘Oh, darling, forgive me. Forgive me,’ he murmured. Her mouth met his. Gently he settled his body over hers. She gasped, and squeezed his back when he entered her.
Downstairs in one of the dining halls of the Palace of Heavenly Pleasure, Iron Man Wang’s men were firing their rifles at the ceiling in a drunken debauch. The noise, like faraway firecrackers, hardly reached them. Their bodies moved to a rhythm of their own creation. The old four-poster squeaked, and for a while it seemed that in this private world of touch, heat and smell into which they had retreated, nothing could harm them. Not this night. Not while their arms were there to enfold each other; nor afterwards, when her head lay on his shoulder, and he breathed the scent of her hair, tangled in his own. For this one night they were protected, if only by each other from all the devils that stalked outside.
The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure Page 59