by Di Morrissey
‘Yes. I have.’ She lightly touched the nun’s hand.
The little nun smiled and seemed content.
Jean-Claude took Sandy’s hand as they walked outside where the rain clouds were scudding across the sky, revealing brilliant sunshine. ‘What a beautiful place and such an amazing old nun. I sense she has great insight.’
‘Anna thinks so. I’m so glad she was able to come back here.’
He smiled. ‘So all things happen for a reason. Even for Carlo.’
‘You think so? He doesn’t see any silver lining in all this,’ said Sandy, looking back to where he was pulling on his shoes.
‘Maybe he will. Maybe Anna will show him. She’s stronger than he realises.’
‘I’ve never felt he was the right man for her,’ said Sandy.
‘Well, you’re the right one for me. I know we will be very happy together,’ he said.
‘We will be, Jean-Claude.’ She reached up and kissed him gently. ‘I feel very, very sure.’
Rick joined them. ‘Did anyone notice the plate on the altar? It’s one of the old ones. Either Hung or someone else has found one of the pieces from the shipwreck and has given it to the nun.’
‘It’s where it should be,’ said Sandy. ‘But don’t mention it to Carlo.’
Rick led the way back down the track. The patrol boat was no longer in sight.
‘They’ve given up,’ said Rick.
But when they got to the strip of shoreline Rick let out a shout and raced to the place where they’d secured the launch. It had gone.
‘Hung! It had to be,’ cried Jean-Claude.
‘The little bastard! He must have escaped from the grotto and now he’s taken the boat,’ said Carlo. ‘I don’t believe this. Now what?’
‘Good question,’ said Rick.
Jean-Claude thought for a moment. ‘Tourist boats call here, but who knows when? Mobiles don’t work.’
‘What about the nun? Maybe she can help us,’ said Sandy.
‘She just believes in fate and what will be will be,’ said Anna.
‘No, I think there must be some way of communicating with the mainland. What if a tourist had an accident or something?’ said Rick.
‘So do we go all the way back up there again?’ said Carlo dispiritedly.
‘I’ll go,’ said Sandy and Anna in unison.
The nun was sweeping wet leaves from the pagoda doorway and stopped in surprise as the girls hurried to her.
Sandy explained what had happened and asked, ‘If you need help or want to contact someone, how would you do that?’
The nun asked what had happened to their boat.
‘The young man, Hung, he brings tourists here? Well, we think he has taken the boat but we don’t know why,’ said Sandy.
The nun shook her head sadly. ‘Perhaps he has been misled by people who promise him money. Money too easy. I hear talk about things,’ she sighed. ‘His uncle very disappointed.’ She lay down her broom and went to her room, returning with a small cardboard box.
‘Captain Chinh? You know him?’ asked Sandy.
‘He comes here many times. Bring me fresh food,’ said the nun. ‘He good man. He give me this.’
Sandy opened the box.
‘What is it?’ asked Anna.
‘It’s a flare. Like ships at sea use. Fantastic. This will work. Who will come if we set this off?’ she asked the nun.
‘Captain Chinh. Maybe someone from village. They know,’ said the nun. ‘Someone come.’
On the shore the three men heard the crack and whoosh and saw the plume of orange smoke shoot into the sky across the bay from the peak.
‘Hey, well done!’ said Rick.
‘What do you know,’ said Jean-Claude.
‘Yeah, but who is going to come? Will they know where we are?’ said Carlo.
‘Let’s wait and see,’ said Jean-Claude.
By the time Sandy and Anna had descended, they could see the unmistakable silhouette of a small junk cutting across the bay and recognised the Harvest Moon.
‘Good old Captain Chinh,’ said Sandy.
‘We’d better not say anything about Hung’s involvement in the plates and drugs,’ said Anna.
‘Why not? He might know where the little sod has gone,’ said Carlo.
Jean-Claude spoke firmly to Carlo. ‘That would be foolish. We must not tell anyone about the drugs. Anyway, you can’t get back your money or your cargo. Consider it a valuable lesson, Carlo.’
‘We could turn in Madame Nguyen. The police will be interested in what we have to say,’ insisted Carlo.
‘Forget it. Why should we want to incriminate ourselves? Besides, some of them are probably on her payroll. And we have no proof. It was in those crates we threw overboard,’ said Rick.
‘Move on, Carlo. If you want to do business here it’s best not to make waves,’ advised Jean-Claude.
‘I’m not likely to do business here again,’ grumbled Carlo.
Anna put her arm through his. ‘Now, c’mon. You say that, but let’s see how well you do with the garden pots. And now we have such good contacts and friends here, there could be all sorts of possibilities,’ soothed Anna.
Sandy looked at her friend and then at Jean-Claude and shook her head. Anna was always an optimist, always looking on the bright side, always being positive and hoping for the best.
Carlo looked glumly at Anna. ‘It’s all right for you. You don’t have to sell your flat.’
Rick and Jean-Claude couldn’t stand it and walked to the water’s edge to wave in Captain Chinh as he anchored the Harvest Moon and lowered a kayak over the side.
Anna told Carlo to stop worrying until they had spoken to his father. Then she and Sandy left him sitting miserably on a rock as they walked along the little strip of beach.
‘How do you put up with him?’ said Sandy.
‘It’s how he is,’ said Anna philosophically.
‘Anna, you’ve changed such a lot since coming over here,’ said Sandy. ‘Don’t you feel it?’
‘I do. I know it.’ She took Sandy’s arm. ‘I’m so happy you suggested this. I’m going back home with a whole new direction to my life.’
Sandy breathed out a small sigh of relief. Finally Anna had found the strength to separate from Carlo. ‘Meaning?’
‘I’m going to change my job, strike out with something new.’ She beamed at Sandy. ‘And I’m just going to insist that Carlo and I get married.’
‘What? You’re joking!’
Anna didn’t notice the shocked expression on Sandy’s face. ‘Yep. Like I told you, make a stand. He’ll never propose. It’s silly to wait around for him to have a big nest egg.’
‘It might never happen, Anna,’ warned Sandy.
‘Exactly. So we might as well move in together, economise, rationalise. Two can live as cheaply as one,’ she said happily, as if everything were settled.
‘But, Anna, this whole fiasco has shown you, yet again, that Carlo is . . .’ Sandy tried to find a soft way of telling her he was a loser, ‘. . . is a risk. This is the perfect time to get out of this relationship and move on.’
Anna frowned. ‘No, Sands, I can’t do that. I’d never leave him while he’s down. I’ll stick by him. Look at your mum, how she’s stuck by your dad all these years when you know how miserable and difficult he’s been.’
‘She loves him,’ said Sandy.
‘And I love Carlo. Listen, I know all his faults. But his heart is good. And he really, really loves me. Remember he came to Vietnam when he thought I needed him. Please try to understand, I want you to be happy for me, as I am for you,’ she said.
Sandy bit her tongue. ‘I think you’re nuts, but there’s no accounting for taste,’ she said lightly. ‘I don’t think you should quit your job though, what would you do?’
Anna chuckled. ‘Open a cafe. Vietnamese food. Seriously.’
Sandy stopped and stared at her. ‘You’re mad!’ Then she burst out laughing. ‘I love it. I don’t know h
ow you’re going to make that happen. But why the hell not? If you’re crazy enough to marry Carlo, then you might as well be crazy enough to run a cafe.’
Anna slid her arm around Sandy’s waist. ‘And what about you? What are you going to do? What are your and Jean-Claude’s plans?’
‘To be happy. We haven’t talked at great length, but it’s a given we’ll both stay here, at least in the short term,’ said Sandy. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to break it to Mum and Dad. Look, Captain Chinh’s here.’
Anna and Sandy turned back to where the old boat captain had pulled up his kayak on the beach and was listening to Jean-Claude. It didn’t take very long for Jean-Claude and the captain to return to the Harvest Moon and bring the rubber ducky to ferry them back to the junk. No mention was made of Hung but Sandy suspected the captain had an inkling of what had happened. Jean-Claude had smoothly explained about a ‘misunderstanding’ with the launch they’d hired.
When they arrived at the tourist wharf on the mainland Sandy shook the captain’s hand. ‘We are very grateful. Thank you.’
‘And thank you for looking after the nun on the peak. She is very special,’ added Anna.
Captain Chinh nodded and smiled. ‘You come back to Vietnam?’ he asked Anna.
‘Oh, yes, it’s most likely. I now have family here,’ she answered.
Sandy was the last to leave the Harvest Moon. As she did she turned back to the old man and said softly in Vietnamese, ‘Please give our good wishes to your nephew Hung. And say we hope he will continue with his university studies. It is the passport to a good job.’
The captain lowered his eyes and gave a slight bow. ‘I will tell him. Thank you. Safe journey.’
‘We’ll be back, Captain. Goodbye.’
Back in Hanoi, they met up again at Barney’s cafe. Settled at a quiet table for dinner, Barney, Charlie, Miss Huong, Rick, Jean-Claude, Carlo, Kim, Anna and Sandy tossed around the details of what they called the Hung Sting.
‘Sounds like Hung’s young, greedy and gullible,’ said Barney.
‘It’s not an uncommon story, I have to say,’ said Charlie with authority. ‘Not that it helps you, Carlo. Madame Nguyen has a reputation – one of stellar proportions. On one hand she’s an ultra successful businesswoman, a connoisseur of objects d’art. Socially she’s upper echelon, privately an enigma. She is surrounded by dubious large-set “gentlemen” whom one wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley. And the Greek chorus in the background sings of unsavoury dealings.’
‘Very poetic, Charlie,’ said Barney. ‘How unsavoury?’
‘Bribes to get approvals for her buildings; people who cross her have been known to disappear or take a long vacation; investors lose, she profits; and the rumour is that drug money is laundered through her more legit dealings. Apart from that, a charming woman.’
‘Why hasn’t someone knocked her off?’ growled Carlo. ‘How does she get away with it? At least I’m not the only bunny she’s ripped off.’
‘That’s true enough. It’s a highly sophisticated operation on many levels,’ said Charlie. ‘One suspects she has built this up over a long time and has people planted, working for her or being paid off by her, in lots of official capacities. Her influence probably goes to the very top.’
‘She sounds like a Vietnamese godfather,’ said Anna. ‘But one day she’ll come unstuck and her house of cards will collapse.’
‘Would be nice,’ said Charlie. ‘But it’s no flimsy house. She has loot stashed around the world, I’d say.’
Miss Huong listened politely before saying quietly, ‘Madame Nguyen is a great patron of the arts. She has made several large donations to galleries.’
Barney grinned. ‘Well, she sure is one of our more colourful characters.’ He raised his glass. ‘To more pleasurable company. Congratulations to Sandy and Jean-Claude. Bon voyage to Anna and Carlo. We look forward to your return.’
They all raised their glasses and toasted each other.
Sandy and Kim touched theirs separately, Sandy saying, ‘Here’s to our work together.’
‘No, to you, Sandy. You’re amazing. I’m really going to miss you,’ said Kim in a rather sad voice. ‘By the way, have you heard that those biker friends of Barney’s – The Retrievers – have taken on the orphanage as a project? A few more of them arrived a couple of days ago. They’ll have that place repaired in no time at all.’
‘Oh, Kim, that’s great news,’ said Sandy.
‘See what I mean?’ said Anna. ‘Give Miss Fix-it here a cause and she’s right onto it.’
‘So what will you be doing now, Sandy?’ asked Charlie.
She smiled at Jean-Claude. ‘I have to give a wrap-up, de-brief, pep talk to the new HOPE recruits. Go home and see my folks. Plan a wedding. Maybe start studying a bit more about fish farming. Try to make myself useful.’
Barney raised his glass again. ‘To Sandy, who has given so much to this beautiful country.’
‘As have you all,’ said Sandy, flushing slightly with embarrassment. ‘But I’ve been given far more than I gave.’
‘You’re a credit to your country, Sandy,’ said Charlie. ‘NGOs, volunteers, good-hearted people like you are what makes the world a closer and better place.’
Jean-Claude squeezed Sandy’s knee under the table, kissed her cheek and whispered, ‘I am so proud of you.’
Ho emerged from the kitchen, beaming, holding aloft a platter of chilli soft-shelled crabs. ‘Number one course,’ he announced, ‘for number one friends!’
Anna was the first to taste the dish, and gave it the thumbs up. ‘Ten out of ten, Ho. I’ll add this to the menu in my cafe . . . one day!’
17
Sydney, two months later
ANNA PUT THE FINISHING touch – a sprinkle of freshly chopped coriander – on top of her crispy vegetable rolls and fried shrimp cakes and carried the platter to the table on Tom Ahearn’s back verandah. Meryl, Tom, Phil, Patricia and Kevin all smiled appreciatively. Sandy followed with a jug of fresh lime juice and more icy cold beer.
‘What a shame Jean-Claude is in France and can’t be here,’ said Meryl. ‘Anna, this looks and smells fabulous. You’re really right to go into business.’
‘We’re working on it. Carlo’s dad has found a takeaway corner place that’s gone out of business. He’s negotiating a lease and I’m sinking my savings into it.’ She smiled at Kevin. ‘Dad’s going to help with the renovations.’
‘Count me in, too. I’ll help on weekends,’ offered Phil.
‘And is Carlo going to work there with you?’ asked Tom, ignoring Meryl’s gentle kick under the table. ‘And by the way, where is the lucky man?’
Anna grinned. ‘Playing soccer, Tom,’ she said. ‘He’s got big ideas – of course. He wants to recreate Barney’s. But we’re starting small. Now that we’re engaged, his father wants him to be more involved with his business so he can retire.’
‘And Carlo is okay with that?’ asked Tom.
‘Yep. His other business contacts turned out to be really good. The Vietnamese pots did so well, he’s going back for another shipment. Actually, the pots have helped Carlo pay some of the money back to his father and he might not have to sell his flat after all.’
‘He’ll be able to buy more when he comes over for my wedding. You are all coming?’ smiled Sandy.
There was a chorus of agreement.
‘Wouldn’t miss it for quids,’ said Kevin.
Sandy looked at her father. ‘I have a lot of beautiful places I want to show you this time.’
Phil gave her a fond smile. ‘There’ll be plenty of time, love.’
‘I can’t wait to go back,’ said Meryl. ‘And Anna, where’s your wedding to be held?’
‘Oh, Carlo had this idea of everyone going back to Italy to a church in a village where his grandparents were married. And then I mentioned the little church in the village outside Dalat. In the end we decided to stay here.’ She smiled at Kevin. ‘I’m being married in the church where
Mum and Dad were married – in Maroubra.’
‘How lovely,’ said Patricia.
As the platters were passed around again, a brilliant eastern rosella landed on the railing looking for titbits. Tom leaned back and thought what a typical Australian Saturday it was. But the food and the presence of Sandy and Anna brought back wonderful memories of Vietnam. The women began talking wedding plans and Kevin insisted on clearing the table and stacking the dishwasher.
Tom refilled Phil’s glass. ‘Let’s take a stroll and inspect my roses.’
They admired Tom’s garden and stood in silence for a few minutes.
Then Phil shifted his weight and said quietly, ‘I s’pose you’d like to know about my trip north?’
‘Only if you want to tell me,’ answered Tom, who’d been wondering about Phil’s trip to the Vietnam vets’ retreat in Queensland.
‘The best bloody thing is just to know it’s there,’ said Phil. He shook his head. ‘Wish I’d been able to go to such a place when I got back after the war.’
‘I imagine a lot of men felt like that, but it’s taken decades for people to recognise how many blokes were so badly affected by their Vietnam experiences,’ said Tom. ‘So how was it? Was it structured in any way?’
‘Nah. Blokes just turned up. You can stay a week for a token payment. There are rules about food, cleaning up, that kind of stuff. It’s the peace and beauty of the bush and the fact you can just hang out and chill with men who’ve been through the same thing. You have an instant connection.’
‘And that helped you?’
‘Being able to talk through things and find out other blokes feel the same. Had the same shit. When I told one chap how I’d tried to join the RSL way back and was told by an old member to “Come back when you’ve been in a real war, sonny,” he said it happened to him too.’
Tom shook his head. ‘There’s a lot of repairing to do.’
‘We’re doing it ourselves. Vets helping vets. Some of them are starting to age, mellowing, I guess. Or years of being on medication for depression and anxiety and stuff has calmed them down. Tell you one thing, though.’ Phil glanced back towards the verandah. ‘It’s made me appreciate Pat a hell of a lot more. So many wives shot through. Couldn’t take the moods, the angry outbursts, the drinking, all the rest of it. Several of them said that if they had a woman like Pat they’d be hanging on to her.’