by Ovidia Yu
That was an exaggeration, of course. Chen Mansion might sit on a large property, but that included the servants’ and workers’ quarters, and the domestic farm that produced fruit, vegetables and eggs, chickens, ducks, geese, goats and pigs, of which there were two. It was no hotel.
‘Is it really?’ Nicole’s eyes were suddenly sharp and calculating, though she was still smiling and being nice. ‘Suzy-Q, why didn’t you tell me you have a big family house in the east by the sea? I love the sea as long as I don’t have to be on it. They told us this hotel was on Beach Road but there’s no beach here. Just rocks and those ugly cargo docks. Why don’t you invite us all over to visit you in the east? Parshanti, you should come too, of course. I love walking on the beach.’
Walking on the beach beyond Chen Mansion? The family compound stretched up to the breakwater and sometimes, at high tide, waves crashed over to soak the lawn, leaving sand and hermit crabs on the grass. Beyond, rows of wooden stakes lined the dark sand of the working beach. This was where the fishermen tied their wooden sampans and fishing nets at night. People walked on the beach to dig for clams and crabs and collect seaweed to dry for cooking, not for fun.
Thinking of the old house now made me feel homesick. I might not be allowed to do a lot of things there, but when I was at home I could take for granted that other people would not be allowed to do things to me.
‘I hate staying in a hotel. It’s so public and impersonal and so expensive. Taylor is always going on at me about how much money I spend. As though it’s my fault we can’t leave here! Couldn’t you invite me to come stay with your family?’ Nicole tilted her head to one side. ‘Just say I’m a friend of yours. Say I’m sick of hotels and I’m looking for a place to stay for a while. Asian hospitality is supposed to be such a big thing, isn’t it? Why don’t you show me some of your famous Asian hospitality and impress me?’
Nicole reached out and grabbed my hand, swinging it like a child would. ‘Please? Please? I just want to see how you people live. When I was a little girl I was always going down to the sharecroppers’ huts. It used to scare my Mamie half to death, she said, because if anything happened to me they would whip her and skin her alive till she was dead. But you see? Nothing did ever happen to me. I’m fine. And I want to see how you live. Please, Su Lin?’
‘I’ll speak to my grandmother,’ I said, crossing my fingers behind my back. ‘It’s her house.’
Nicole tilted her head at me. ‘Look, sweetheart. I know you’re really here to spy on me. Well, you should tell that stuck-up inspector of yours that you can spy on me much better if you get me away from here. I miss my old family home so much, you know. My old aunts said there was no point in keeping up such a huge house, and I was only fourteen when my parents died so I couldn’t do anything about it. And Radley . . .’
Nicole lowered her voice and leaned forward, drawing Parshanti closer to listen: ‘Taylor likes to play the rich big shot. But his father was a door-to-door salesman. The Conners were dirt poor but Taylor changed his name to Covington and managed to get himself a rich wife. Radley’s mother’s family was in trade . . .’ her voice sank even lower ‘. . .in ladies’ sanitary products!’
Nicole shrieked with laughter. Parshanti giggled too. I didn’t see why it was funny. My uncle sold ladies’ sanitary products in his store, but they were expensive and you had to go to the back and ask his wife to get them out of a box. I supposed woman friends bonded by giggling over gossip the way man friends bond while smoking cigarettes over beers.
Though I didn’t smoke or drink I think I would have preferred the cigarettes and beer. Now I only hoped that, with the woolly state my head was in, I would be able to remember all Nicole was saying.
‘Taylor has absolutely no taste, no sense of style. You should see the lipstick the man gave me on our way out here. It had these huge coloured stones on the case. Anyone could see it was hideous, but some conman on board the ship probably told him it was the latest fashion. He got so worked up when Junior wanted to look at it. And the lipstick was a ghastly colour. Like an orange gone rotten. He kept on at me to use it till I was glad I lost it.’
‘Maybe it was his wife’s colour,’ I suggested, ‘and he wanted to see how it looked on you.’
‘Not likely. Taylor’s wife died when Radley was around five. That’s why he won’t ever talk about where the Covington money came from. And he hates it when I say the family money comes from bleeding women. But it’s not like they’re a real old family. Not like you and I come from.’ She gave my arm a little conspiratorial squeeze and giggled.
‘We should keep these rooms in the hotel so I don’t have to move my trunks. Taylor can stay and keep an eye on them. Anyway, he’s got nothing to do except keep an eye on Radley. He’s obsessed with Radley.’
‘Radley your dead husband?’ Dr Covington sounded like he would be right at home with the altars to dead relations in Chen Mansion.
‘Radley my live son. Looks like he’s obsessed with anyone called Radley, doesn’t it? Maybe I should change my little Raddy’s name. You won’t want Taylor in your house. He’s got no real class. He can stay here in the hotel with Radley.’
I didn’t like Taylor Covington, but what was ‘real’ class? ‘My family has no class either. My forefathers came over from China as labourers,’ I said, ‘so going into trade was moving up for them. Anyway, we are all descended from the ancestors, whether you believe our great-great-great-grandparents were Adam and Eve or Mr Darwin’s apes.’ Or the formless void of the Tao, of course. But I didn’t think Nicole would understand that. ‘Tell me more about Dr Covington. Was he upset about you marrying another man?’
‘You shouldn’t read Mr Darwin,’ Nicole said dismissively. ‘His writing is thoroughly outdated. Nobody in America reads Mr Darwin, these days. Taylor says evolution is a hoax made up by liberals to destroy the Church and weaken Western civilization. So, when can you get me out of this dreadful hotel?’
‘I have to speak to my grandmother,’ I repeated.
‘Oh, will you? Can you go speak to her now?’
‘Not now. But I will.’ I would speak to Ah Ma sooner or later, so technically I wasn’t lying. But there was no way I was going to invite Nicole to Chen Mansion.
‘Goody, goody, goody!’ Nicole said, as though everything was already settled. Then her face slipped abruptly into boredom. ‘Oh, why isn’t there anything for women to do here?’
Her quick changes of mood reminded me of the old mediums who were possessed by several spirits at once. Of course they did it for money, which at least made sense.
‘What do you mean “for women”?’ I thought of the knitting and quilting project the mission ladies had been trying (unsuccessfully) to establish for years.
‘Victor went to cock fights and wrestling matches and opium dens, and he saw all kinds of things. But I can’t because ladies aren’t allowed to go around unescorted out here and no one will take me anywhere.’
Parshanti and I were proof that that was untrue. But Nicole very likely didn’t see us as ‘ladies’.
Nicole would have made a good actress, with her quick complete changes of mood and expression. But she might have trouble remembering her lines, given she couldn’t seem to remember what she was saying from one moment to the next.
‘Who is Eric Schumer?’ Parshanti asked.
Nicole looked at her suspiciously. But Parshanti’s eyes were sympathetic and curious.
‘Is he an old beau of yours? I think Kenneth’s jealous.’
That hit the right spot. Nicole relaxed and smiled a little. I could have kissed Parshanti.
‘Well . . .’ She looked at me. I tried to match Parshanti’s expression as best I could. ‘What’s wrong with your eyes?’
‘Nothing. Please tell us about Eric Schumer.’
Eric Schumer
‘Eric was a friend. A dear, dear friend. But there’s nothing for anyone to be jealous of. The poor man’s dead.’
‘Oh, no! How terrible for you!
What happened?’
Nicole and Parshanti were chatting like old friends. I kept my mouth shut and listened. It was easier to listen than to talk. I tried not to think about Dr Covington bringing Junior up to say goodnight to his mother.
‘It was a car accident. It was terrible. I don’t remember anything that happened. Taylor says I was in shock. That’s when he made us go on this dreary Old World tour. I think he wanted me away from New York City because of what happened to Eric. I think he was afraid I’d killed him.’ Nicole’s chin went up and she turned on me. ‘Are you going to tell your darling Le Froy that?’
She knew I was. ‘Did you kill him?’ I asked.
Nicole glared at me automatically and started to shriek, ‘How dare you—’ but then she sagged and slumped backwards. ‘I told you. I don’t know.’
‘What happened?’
‘All I remember is us having this huge fight at the club. Eric had promised to take me dancing. I’d had a few drinks and Eric was being all stuffy and saying he was going to take me home instead. So I told him he could go home to his mama if he wanted to, but I was going dancing. I remember throwing my drink at him and then I don’t remember anything more until I woke up the next morning. I got myself home all right, just not into the house. Taylor found me in the car outside the gate.’
‘You drove yourself home?’ I asked, more impressed than anything else. I could barely imagine driving at night even if I was full of coffee.
‘I must have,’ Nicole said dully. ‘It’s no use asking me. Taylor’s asked me hundreds of times but I just can’t remember. It’s like there’s a fog in my head covering that time. The newspapers said Eric’s body was found in an alley behind the club. There were tyre tracks all over him. They said he had been hit by a car and run over several times more.’
I began to understand why Dr Covington watched over Nicole so carefully. He was afraid the mother of his precious grandson had killed a man while she was drunk. Despite what he had done to me in the restaurant, I felt sorry for him.
‘It’s late. We should get going,’ Parshanti said, into the silence that had followed this.
‘Wait! Don’t leave me. I hate being alone. I can’t go to sleep when I’m alone.’ Nicole had another swift change of mood. ‘Just help me get ready for bed, then stay with me till I fall asleep. Please?’
She was talking to Parshanti. I could see my friend would have loved to stay and even spend the night in these luxurious rooms, but her parents would be furious. Even though Dr and Mrs Shankar had liberal ideas about allowing girls to go to school and get jobs, they were strict about her not wearing make-up and staying out late. And totally against her dating anyone they hadn’t first been introduced to. Dr Shankar didn’t trust Eastern men and Mrs Shankar didn’t trust Western ones. Between them that pretty much ruled out everyone Parshanti met.
‘I’ll stay,’ I told Parshanti. ‘Just till she falls asleep.’
I ended up spending the night at the hotel. Luckily, I had come prepared for that. But my mind was still whirling in a dizzying waltz inside my head. My impression of Nicole had changed so completely that I could barely remember why I had been so certain she was Victor’s killer, why I had wanted to spy on her.
After Parshanti left, Nicole helped herself to the brandy I’d refused. But even after she’d washed down Dr Covington’s sleeping powders with more – she mixed sugar and bitters into it – she stayed awake fussing and fretting most of the night. Nicole Covington had neither self-discipline nor external guidance. But now I saw her as a neglected child rather than as a calculating woman.
I settled down in a chair by her bed and listened to her grumble about Singapore’s dearth of dance halls, jazz clubs and handsome young men till I must have dozed off.
The next thing I knew, Kenneth Mulliner was standing by my chair looking down on me.
‘Oh!’ I jumped up with a start, almost falling over.
He caught my arm, steadying me till I’d got my balance. ‘You don’t have to bow down to me in here,’ Kenneth said, ‘only in public.’
I knew he was joking – at least, I sincerely hoped he was. You never knew with those young foreigners, and Kenneth’s dry manner made it difficult to tell. I suspect he wasn’t always sure himself what he meant. He was the sort who waits to see your reaction so he can tell you you’re wrong. I don’t mind being wrong but only when it makes a difference. So I didn’t respond.
‘Nicole’s still asleep.’ This was stating the obvious. Nicole had finally dropped off and was snoring softly and regularly. I didn’t want to wake her. I could see why they preferred to leave her to sleep till noon and later.
I bent to collect the book I had been reading. It had landed on the floor along with my cloth bag and spectacles. Kenneth followed me out of the room, both of us walking quietly. And I had lost my prime suspect because, having seen Nicole at close quarters, I no longer believed her capable of Victor’s murder – at least, not on her own.
‘I’m just looking in for a moment. You don’t have to leave.’ When Kenneth wasn’t being deliberately supercilious he sounded like an uncertain schoolboy. ‘I mean, unless there’s somewhere you have to go.’
His own words made him blush and I knew he was thinking of the WC. I don’t know why Westerners are so awkward around necessary functions. After all, they are perfectly comfortable eating with other people: why act so embarrassed about what happens at the other end?
‘You spent all of last night in that chair? Whew! How was Nicole?’
‘She’s likely to spend most of the day in bed,’ I told him. Last night Nicole had insisted that she felt a bout of nervous depression coming on. I thought it more likely she was drunk. And when I had helped her to the WC to relieve herself earlier that morning, her ‘nervous depression’ looked to me a lot like a hangover. I wasn’t feeling so good myself, after a night of attending to her. My mouth was dry, my eyes gummy and sore from not enough sleep, and I was aching all over.
Dr Covington had looked in during the night. I barely stifled a scream and he looked as shocked to see me as I was to see him inside Nicole’s bedroom. All the more because I had locked the door. Our encounter in the restaurant must have made him forget the arrangements he had made for me to stay with Nicole. Perhaps he thought what had happened between us would have changed my mind. Or, as Nicole had said, perhaps groping strange females was so normal to him he thought nothing of it.
He had left without saying anything.
Remembering that, I asked Kenneth, ‘Do you have the key to this room too?’
‘No. Nicole’s door wasn’t locked. I’ll stay with her. You can go.’ I wouldn’t be sorry to leave. I had a sore neck as well as a headache and I wanted to wash and change my clothes. But this man was dismissing me like a servant. Which I was, in a sense. But I wasn’t his servant. And why did Kenneth Mulliner suddenly want to be alone with Nicole? My suspicion woke more slowly than the rest of me.
‘Nicole doesn’t want to be left alone. I’ll stay with her till Parshanti comes. She should be here soon.’
Kenneth looked surprised, but said, ‘Not necessary. I’ll be here.’
‘She’s bringing some magazines for Nicole,’ I said. Parshanti’s parents expected her home by nine, but Nicole had let her leave only when she promised to return with the fashion magazines.
We stood awkwardly, both reluctant to leave.
‘Tell me more about Eric Schumer.’ I wanted to know how much Nicole had told him.
‘Never met the man.’
‘But you know about him. You mentioned him last night!’
‘So now you know as much I do.’
Parshanti arrived. She was carrying a stack of magazines from her father’s store but grew flustered on seeing Kenneth and dropped them. The ensuing commotion of apologies brought Nicole out of her bedroom in her dressing-gown. Her eyes brightened when she saw the glossy covers on the floor.
‘What a herd of elephants you people are! Oh, thank you, thank
you. These will help the aching. No Vogue? No Ladies’ Home Journal? Well, I suppose you did your best. Be a darling and give the girl some money, Kenneth.’
‘Oh, no,’ Parshanti said, more to Kenneth than Nicole. ‘No, no, no. You mustn’t. I wasn’t meaning to sell them to you.’
Love was making her dumb in every sense of the word. I would have taken the money. But Kenneth didn’t look as though he had any intention of handing any over. He looked like a ghost-month actor who had suddenly forgotten which of the five or six plays in the repertoire he was in. He couldn’t decide whether to butter up Nicole or play up to Parshanti to make Nicole jealous.
Fortunately or not, Nicole wasn’t paying any attention to him. She flopped onto the sofa and barely flipped through a couple of magazines before dropping them. ‘Where do you think you’re going, Suzy-Q? You said you were taking me to your house today. She’s promised to take me to stay in her big old family house by the beach. You promised, Suzy-Q! You can’t break a promise. You just have to give me a few minutes to get dressed and put my face on and we can go.’
Kenneth looked at me. I think my expression told him this was news to me too. He grinned and shook his head.
‘I’m going to work,’ I said. ‘I won’t have time to see my grandmother today. Parshanti will sit with you.’
Nicole pouted and told Parshanti, ‘Don’t just stand there with your mouth open, girl. Draw me a bath and get the room cleaned out. And make sure you fill my bath with fresh hot water, not that lukewarm dishwater.’
Parshanti looked at me helplessly. The Shankars were not rich but their house in town had a charcoal stove to heat bathwater. I could tell she had no idea what carrying hot water upstairs for Nicole entailed.
Well, I left her to it. I was still a little cross with her and she had slept in her own bed last night. She could handle things for a while.