Oriental Hotel

by Janet Tanner

  ‘Oh, I don’t know! Where? How? Suppose someone sees us?’

  There was a small strained silence.

  ‘Be bold. Meet me in the lobby at the Peninsula!’

  ‘Don’t be crazy! Everyone goes there.’

  ‘All right. Take the ferry over to Hong Kong Island and I’ll pick you up and drive you back here.’

  ‘To your home?’

  ‘Why not?’

  Elise was shaking. ‘Now I know you’re crazy. All right, make it the lobby at the Peninsula. If anyone does see us, I suppose it looks too open to mean anything.’

  ‘That was what I was afraid of.’ He sounded regretful. ‘Can you make it this afternoon? Say in half an hour?’

  ‘Half an hour? How can you get from Shek-o in half an hour?’

  He laughed. ‘I lied to you; I’m already at the Peninsula. So hurry up, Mrs Sanderson. I’m getting impatient and I don’t like being kept waiting.’

  Chapter Twenty

  From Nathan Road on the Kowloon waterfront the Peninsula resembled a gigantic ‘E’ with the middle prong missing. Above the colonnaded ground floor six upper storeys, with every detail of the windows and balconies in perfect symmetry, rose to the flat roof with its sculpted scrolls and the three flagpoles, one on each wing. On the first floor a terrace ran around the inside edge of the ‘E’, with casement windows opening into the Long Gallery where guests could sit to enjoy afternoon tea or an evening pipe looking out across the harbour to Victoria Peak; and a Rolls-Royce length away from the steps that led up to the main door, a fountain played as the centrepiece of a neatly laid-out garden with lawn, flowers and potted shrubs.

  The Peninsula was the centre of social activity in Hong Kong and it showed. At all hours of the day the chauffeur-driven cars swept around that paved drive and a fleet of bell-boys in their smart white uniforms ran down the steps to attend to the luggage of the rich and famous as they alighted and were bowed into the hotel by more bell-boys who manned the glass-panelled doors.

  As she walked along the pavement past the bottom prong of the ‘E’, Elise’s breath came in shallow gasps and she hesitated for a moment in an effort to control it. At this time of day she knew the lobby would be crowded with guests taking tea, and by common consent there were virtually two separate sections of it – the left-hand side of the vast hall was used by single people not averse to dalliance, the right-hand side by married couples and platonic friends. Brit had given her no indication as to which side he would be waiting for her, and as she walked around the central garden and up the steps nervousness and the overwhelming longing to see him again mixed and merged.

  Through the doors she went. As she had expected, the lobby was crowded. It was a beautiful room, with an elaborate ceiling decorated with sculpted angels and supported by impressive Cinquecento columns, lit by chandeliers and cooled by overhead fans. Normally she paused to drink it in, but not today! Today she could think only of Brit. The clocks on the central column showed 3. 30 and she knew the half-hour was more than up. But she could not see him amongst the tea-sipping patrons. She swivelled, wondering if perhaps he would not come after all – and there he was, a few yards away, making his way between the tables.

  Against his cool white ducks his face looked more tanned than ever. In the midst of all the emotion she felt for him, she had almost forgotten how good-looking he was. Not handsome – not even she would call him handsome, but definitely very attractive in a totally masculine way.

  ‘You came then.’ There was a hint of the old mockery in his eyes. ‘I thought you might have changed your mind.’

  She shook her head, her heart pounding so loudly that she could not speak.

  ‘Would you like tea?’

  She looked around, horrified. ‘Here?’

  Again his eyes mocked. ‘So you haven’t decided to throw caution completely to the winds.’

  ‘I haven’t thought about it, but there’s no point in courting trouble,’ she said tartly.

  He laughed aloud. ‘You haven’t lost your sharp tongue since you got home then, I see. Oh, don’t apologise! I rather like it.’

  ‘I had no intention of apologising.’ Why had they started like this, needling one another again, she wondered, when all she wanted was to have his arms around her. ‘Why on earth should I apologise?’

  ‘Temper or no temper, I am surprised at you arguing in the middle of the Peninsula lobby. You are usually so concerned about what people think!’ His mouth lifted upwards at one corner and when he saw the colour rise in her cheeks and the way she looked anxiously round, the other corner lifted to match it.

  ‘Come on, Mrs Sanderson. You’d better come with me.’

  ‘Where?’

  He propelled her lightly across the lobby to the staircase. ‘Wait and see.’

  On the first landing she stopped, turning to look up at him.

  ‘I want to know where we are going. You can’t just push me up the stairs like this. Tell me, please!’

  ‘You’re a curiously impatient lady.’

  ‘And you’re an infuriating man! If we are going to the Long Gallery, I would rather not. Lots of Gordon’s friends go there to take tea.’

  ‘We’re not going to the Long Gallery. Come on.’

  Along a carpeted corridor they went, past carved balconies giving a view of the lobby beneath. Then Brit was taking a key out of his pocket and unlocking a door.

  ‘Brit – what …?’

  But she knew. The elegantly furnished though slightly faded sitting room, with dressing room, bedroom and bathroom beyond was empty and waiting for them.

  ‘Whose …?’

  ‘Mine, of course. What’s to prevent me from taking a suite at the Peninsula? Now stop asking questions and come here.’

  ‘Brit …’ She hung back. This was all she had wanted, yet it was like crossing the Rubicon all over again.

  ‘Elise!’ he teased. He was taking off his jacket, reaching for her. ‘Why did you telephone me?’

  ‘To apologise for that last day.’

  ‘Liar!’

  ‘Well – if that’s what you think …’

  ‘I do. Now come here!’

  He pulled her into his arms and at his touch she melted. It was incredible that she could forget everything – conscience, duty, caution, anger, with the scent of him in her nostrils and his touch on her skin. The love welled up in her more strongly than ever, mingling with urgent desire as she clung to him, pliant and yielding as he undressed her.

  His mouth was devouring her and she moulded her body to his, her breasts crushed against his hard chest. His hands caressed the length of her, the curve of her buttocks and thighs and the hollow between. She shivered at his touch, her own hands exploring his tough, muscular back and the tidge of his spine, throwing back her head so that his mouth could follow the line of her throat.

  It was sweet, so piercingly sweet, the rise of her flesh to his, and she almost sobbed with the delight of it. Then he was lifting her and they were moving as one to the bed. Roughly he pulled aside the covers, sinking with her on to the silk sheets and sliding between her parted thighs. A swift, smooth thrust and they were one, moving in unison like the waves of the ocean until they broke in one earth-shattering crescendo. At the last she could not keep from crying out, and her fingers bit deep into the muscles of his shoulder. Then slowly, so slowly, she sank into the valley of love, satisfied that all was peace and utter contentment as they lay with fingers linked, damp skin clinging along the length of their bodies.

  ‘Good?’ he asked softly.

  ‘Very good.’ She felt replete with love – her lips, her cheeks, her whole body full and rounded.

  He lifted her hand and she could see the two arms alongside each other, the slim and the muscular entwined. The early March sunshine, creeping through the half-pulled blinds, glinted on the tiny golden hairs which feathered her sunburned forearm and the thicker, darker covering on his.

  ‘I love you, Elise,’ he said.

&nb
sp; Somehow in the haze of happiness this struck her only as natural. She knew he loved her; how could she ever have doubted it? But before she could reply, he went on, ‘I thought I would never say that to anyone again, but I want to say it to you.’

  ‘I love you too, Brit,’ she said softly. ‘You were right, I did lie about the reason I phoned you. I just couldn’t bear not to see you, or even speak to you, ever again.’

  ‘I’m so glad you did.’

  ‘Would you have phoned me?’

  ‘I don’t know; I wanted to. Bloody hell, Elise, it wasn’t until I saw you with that stuffed shirt of a husband that I realised just how I felt about you.’

  ‘But you didn’t say anything; you were so cold! I thought you wanted it to end as we had agreed.’

  I was cold! Christ, there was ten degrees of frost on you!’

  ‘I didn’t want anyone to know, not even you, but when I had to leave you on Hugh’s yacht I thought I should die. I haven’t been able to think of anything else but whether I would see you again.’

  ‘So let’s make the most of it.’ He reached for her once more and conversation ceased as they kissed and caressed. After a while she eased away with a sigh, turning his wrist over to look at his watch.

  ‘Is that the right time? I shall have to go.’

  His fingers reached for her. ‘Suppose I don’t let you go? When you rang, I promised myself that if I found you again I would never let you go.’

  ‘But I have to, Brit! Please, don’t be silly …’

  ‘Only if you promise to come again tomorrow!’

  ‘Tomorrow – here?’

  ‘I’ve taken this suite for a week!’

  She laughed. ‘You were very sure of yourself, weren’t you?’

  ‘I’m an optimist. Do you promise?’

  She leaned over to kiss him, then moved away swiftly before he could prevent her.

  ‘Just try to keep me away!’

  The sunshine outside seemed brighter; the glow went home with her. Her step was quick and eager, she listened with added patience as Alex read to her from his new books, she sang as she changed for dinner. Her mood even rubbed off on to her attitude towards Gordon. Guilt seemed to have disappeared and she wanted only to share her happiness, to spread it around so that others could also benefit from it.

  For two days the spell lasted and then with the abruptness of a Mediterranean thunderstorm, it shattered.

  They had spent the afternoon as usual: loving, laughing, enjoying each other’s bodies and each other’s company. When she left the suite Elise had no premonition of disaster. They were always careful not to leave together, so she called goodbye, closed the door behind her and started along the carpeted corridor. She could see two men in the restaurant entrance further along, but the light was such that to her they were mere silhouettes. Then she heard her name called and, turning, saw Brit in the doorway of his suite, wearing his black silk dressing-gown, holding out her silk jacket towards her.

  ‘Elise – you left this!’

  ‘Oh – idiot!’ She went back to take it from him and he pulled her close.

  ‘Time for one more kiss, Mrs Sanderson.’

  ‘Brit – not now!’

  But he kissed her anyway, then laughed and stood in the doorway to watch her go. Half-way along the corridor she turned to wave and blow a kiss. The men were still standing in the shadows and she took no notice of them until she drew closer. Then, as the light shifted so that she could see them clearly, her heart seemed to stop beating.

  One of them was Hugh de Gama!

  All the blood drained from her face and for a moment she thought she was going to faint. But somehow her feet continued to move and as if through a mist she heard herself say: ‘Hugh!’

  He inclined his head. His cold grey eyes seemed to be looking right through her and she knew without doubt what he had seen.

  ‘Elise.’ His voice was grave, but somehow the impression he conveyed was redolent of triumph.

  The colour that had drained away returned with a rush and she could feel it burning in her cheeks. Panic gripped her; with a vague, forced smile she hurried past him to the stairhead as if even now, provided she behaved normally, he would not realise there was anything significant in what he had just seen. Down the sweep of stair she went and through the lobby where the tea-cups tinkled, her breath ragged; then out into the warm sunshine as if all the hounds of hell were after her.

  Hugh in the Peninsula! Hugh standing right there when she came out of the suite. Hugh – the one person in Hong Kong certain to have recognised both her and Brit. Gordon’s friend and confidant, moreover. What had he been doing there in the middle of the afternoon? Not that it mattered. He had been there and he had seen them – the whys and wherefores were irrelevant. As for her effort to try to convince him he had seen nothing of importance – that was both pathetic and futile.

  Her breath came faster, keeping pace with her scurrying feet. Where was she going in such a hurry? Anywhere away from Hugh and those all-seeing eyes, came the answer. But that was stupid – pointless. She must slow down and try to think!

  But there was room in her mind only for the chasing, torturing thoughts. He saw me. Will he tell Gordon? What will I do?

  There was a yacht in the bay, its clean white lines reminding her of the Lively; foolish hope, born of desperation, leaped in her. Perhaps he wouldn’t see Gordon. He had talked about the danger Hong Kong was in; perhaps he would go away for a while until the threats blew over, then by the time he returned he would have forgotten all about it.

  But all the while she knew she was clutching at straws. You know he saw you! Will he tell Gordon or not? It’s as simple as that …

  She hurried on, past the Star Ferry Terminal and into Pedder Street. As she passed the Hong Kong Hotel the rattle of tea-cups gave her a sense of déja-vu and she spun further down into the vortex.

  Should I say something to Gordon before Hugh does? But what? Some excuse, in an attempt to allay his suspicions – or the truth? No! I can’t! Not just now – not like this. And Hugh might not tell him … It might be all unnecessary …

  ‘Mummy! Mummy!’ Running footsteps and the sound of Alex’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Oh no, not now! she groaned inwardly. Not just when I must be able to think!

  But when she turned her smile concealed the tumult within and only a close observer would have noticed the way her hands trembled.

  ‘Alex! What are you doing here? Where’s Su Ming?’

  ‘Oh, she’s coming. She’s so slow. We went down to the harbour to look at the boats. And I asked Su Ming if we could go over to the Island one day soon and ride on the Peak tram and she said we could.’

  ‘Oh, that will be fun!’ Her voice sounded false to her own ears and she thought with a pang of the last time she had taken Alex on the near-vertical railway to the top of Victoria Peak; watching the expressions of enthusiasm and awe cross his small, serious face, pointing out the houses half-hidden amongst the trees as they passed, hearing him squeal with delight and fear as the car stopped at the stations on the way to the summit, rocking on its cable as its descending partner hauled it up. The Peak Railway was a thrill of which he never tired and one in which she loved to indulge him. But if Su Ming had said she would take him up the Peak, it would be best to let her do it. At the moment Elise had other things on her mind …

  ‘We’re going home to have tea now, Mummy. Will you have tea with us?’

  ‘Oh, Alex …’ I’ve got to be alone – I’ve got to plan! she thought desperately.

  ‘Mummy, please! You used to have tea with us before you went away. It was proper tea then!’

  ‘It’s proper tea now.’ Su Ming had caught up with them and took hold of Alex’s hand rather disapprovingly. ‘And I wish you wouldn’t run off like that, Alex.’

  ‘But I saw Mummy! And I want her to have tea with us.’

  ‘All right, Alex, I will.’ Elise was trembling, but argument merely made matte
rs worse.

  ‘There’s really no need, Mrs Sanderson. He is just being silly.’

  ‘Mummy, Mummy – I’m not being silly!’

  ‘It’s all right, Alex, I said I will have tea with you and I will.’

  Just let them be quiet for five minutes so that I can think, she prayed. But there was precious little chance of that. She did try to think; as Alex chattered on, she answered him in preoccupied monosyllables, but still her mind ran in the same frenzied circles.

  When she heard Gordon come in the panic began again, constricting her throat and chest so that she could hardly breathe. Supposing he knew already – Hugh might have telephoned him! But though she watched his every word and action minutely, she could find nothing to suggest there was anything lying beneath the surface of his perfectly normal behaviour.

  Over dinner she risked a probing question: ‘Do you see Hugh at all these days?’

  Gordon gave no sign of recognising any hidden meaning.

  ‘I haven’t seen him since we got back, what with my business and his Volunteer Defence Corps.’

  ‘He has joined, then?’

  ‘Yes. A waste of time, if you ask me!’

  They ate in silence, but a few moments later Elise was worrying again. ‘How do you know he’s joined the Volunteers if you haven’t seen him?’

  ‘Oh, someone was mentioning it. I must give him a ring some time and see what he’s up to.’

  Oh, what have I done now! she thought in panic.

  ‘Well, I won’t have time to do it in the morning,’ Gordon mused. ‘I’ve got a meeting with the accountants then. Knowing the long-winded way they go about everything, that will probably take half the day. Perhaps I’ll do it now …’

  She went cold. ‘ Oh, Gordon, do you have to? I’ve seen so little of you these last few days …’ He looked at her half curiously and she rushed on, ‘ We never seem to have any time to ourselves.’

  ‘I was not aware you wanted that.’ There was a defensive quality in Gordon’s voice. ‘ It was hardly the impression you gave me.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Gordon, I know I’m not the best of wives. But …’ She cast around frantically. What can I say to stop him from phoning Hugh here and now? ‘Let’s have a quiet evening. Just you and me and the radiogram, like it used to be. Goodness knows when I last listened to Mozart.’