I'm afraid not, my love. Do you want some more rice? I can try. I can tell him you're pregnant or something. He grinned and she threw up her hands.
Good Lord, don't do anything as desperate as that, Mr. Parker-Scott. I'll live. But I'm hungry as hell. She looked ruefully at him again and he gently ran his fingers tantalizingly from her neck to her breasts, and she forgot all of her hunger except that which was for him. They lay in the dark for a long time that night, talking and whispering, as he told her tales and bits of history about the cities they were going to see. He wasn't nearly as fond of Nanking as he was of Shanghai and Peking.
Shanghai is so incredible, Aud. There are British and French and Russians and now Japanese. It's a truly international place, and at the same time truly Chinese. I think it must be the most cosmopolitan city I know. And the Japanese hadn't affected it unduly. They had attacked and occupied it briefly almost two years before, early in '32 and now a demilitarized zone was fragilely in effect. Chiang Kai-shek had long before retreated to Nanking, and the 19th Route Army had resisted vigorously before being forced to give up. Chiang Kai-shek had lessened his war on the Communists now that he had the Japanese to worry about and Mao Tse-tung had all but disappeared from the immediate area. There were fewer allegedly Communist heads being speared on poles in the outer regions now. The Japanese presence had created an uneasy alliance between the Communists and the Nationalists. People had other things to think about now, particularly in Manchuria.
The next day as they boarded the train to Nanking, she felt a wave of excitement sweep over her. They were almost there. Their goal had been Nanking, Shanghai, and Peking, and they were only hours away now. She could hardly wait, and that night they slept at a hotel in Nanking, and earlier in the evening Charlie had gone to Chiang Kai-shek's residence to leave his credentials and his card and a very polite letter, begging for an audience with him. They learned at the hotel that George Bernard Shaw had been there earlier that spring on the way to Shanghai, and suddenly Audrey felt the same ripple of excitement again. She was loving what she saw, the crowds of people everywhere, the costumes, the food, the smells. They had eaten a royal repast at their hotel, it wasn't just rice and green tea here. And Charlie noticed that she had lost weight. They had been traveling for more than two weeks and they had come five thousand miles, for his work and her dream, and she thought she had never been as close to another human being and probably never would be again as they quietly strolled the street in front of the hotel that night watching rickshaws and a few stray cars. Audrey was ecstatic as they wandered some of the back streets, and inadvertently came upon a little house with dim lights inside, and a strange smell. She stopped, intrigued by the perfume that hung heavy in the air, and questioned Charlie who laughed when she suggested they go inside.
I think not, old girl. He smiled at her.
Why not? She was disappointed by his lack of enthusiasm and he laughed again at her naivet+!.
That's an opium den, Aud.
It is? Her eyes grew wide in amazement, she was fascinated, and now she was even more interested in going in.
You can't go in there, Aud. They'll throw us both out. Me probably, and you for sure.
For heaven's sake, why? Can't we just watch? She imagined it like a bar and he shook his head.
They're usually just for men.
How stupid of them. She looked annoyed and they continued their walk as he shared some of what he knew of Chinese history with her. It was a history more extraordinary in terms of its art and its accomplishments than any other he knew. They talked for hours as they wandered back to the hotel and sat quietly in their room.
It was a full week before Charles was able to see Chiang Kai-shek, but it gave them time to rest and relax. They went for long walks and drove out into the countryside, and in the end it was worth the wait. Charles got exactly the interview he wanted with him, and he felt certain that the article would be an enormous success. He borrowed a typewriter at the hotel and began working on it immediately that afternoon when he got back, and Audrey found him hard at work and even unaware that she was there as she quietly took a seat in the corner of the room, and began writing a letter to Annabelle, trying to explain to her what she had done and seen. But she had the discouraging feeling as she wrote that her sister really wouldn't care. She wondered if anyone would. She wrote to her grandfather instead, but was afraid that even that was a wasted effort.
It was an hour before Charles looked up and noticed that she was there, and when he did, he beckoned her with a smile. I didn't hear you come in.
She smiled and walked to where he sat, bending to kiss his neck as he put an arm around her waist. I know. You were hard at work. How did the interview go?
Fascinating. It's a lost cause for him, you know. Although I don't think he sees it yet. The Soviets are anxious to back Mao and support the Red Army here. Chiang Kai-shek thinks he can win, but I don't think he can. He's mounting a major attack against Mao's forces now, in fact.
Is that what you're going to say in the piece? That it's a lost cause?
More or less, though not quite as bluntly as that. It's only my opinion after all. I want to bring out what he said, in all fairness to him. He's an interesting man, though ruthless certainly. And I wish you had met his wife. She's beautiful and thoroughly charming.
But Audrey had the opportunity to meet Sun Yat-sen's widow instead when Charlie interviewed her, and she allowed Audrey to take a few pictures, which Charlie promised to submit to the Times.
Do you mean it? She was thrilled.
Of course I do. You're damn good. As good as any professional I've worked with. Better than most, in fact.
She looked at him pensively then. Were you serious about working with me one day?
And then suddenly he laughed. I think I already am. She had taken the photos of Sun Yat-sen's widow just that afternoon and they exchanged a smile. She loved working with him and hoped to have the opportunity to do so again in Shanghai.
They got ready to leave the next day and Audrey could hardly wait to see Shanghai, after all he had told her. It sounded like a city teeming with people and excitement and commerce and gambling and prostitutes and exotic smells. It sounded like the Oriental equivalent of a Turkish bazaar and she was dying to see it.
She packed her things for the trip, and Charlie smiled at her as she juggled her bags and stared at her vanity case again and made a face.
You know, I really ought to throw the damn thing out, or give it to someone. Maybe we can trade it somewhere for a goat or a pig.
He roared at the thought and shook his head. Then what will you do on the ship on the way home? She squinted her eyes, thinking about it. That seemed so remote now and it was extraordinary to think how far they'd come. You'd better hang onto it, Aud.
I don't know why. I haven't looked in a mirror in such a long time, and I'm not sure I ever will again. Makeup seemed so ridiculous here. She had stopped wearing nail polish when they left Istanbul, and her little T-strap shoes were abandoned in the bottom of her suitcase. She had only worn oxfords since their journey to China began, and blouses and skirts, and a jacket now. She was sorry she hadn't brought more sensible things. Most of the clothes she had seemed totally inappropriate here, silk and linen suits, slinky dresses she had worn in the South of France, bathing suits, and evening gowns she had worn on the ship and would wear again on the way home. She felt even more ridiculous dragging along her fur. Although Madame Chiang Kai-shek herself was beautifully dressed and Nanking was a big city, the people didn't dress with any particular flair or interest. They wore the drab uniforms of the Chinese lower class, although Charles insisted that there were wonderful things to buy in Shanghai. She might even have a few things made. And above all, she needed a few warm things. There was a chill in the air. It was well into fall now, and the weather would be getting cold before they got home again.
They spent the night in their room after eating an enormous dinner at a restaurant rec
ommended by the concierge, and Audrey snuggled in beside Charles. Once again, they had a narrow rickety bed, and everyone called her Mrs. Parker-Scott now. The man at the desk had saved face for them, insisting that they must be on their honeymoon and she hadn't had time to have her passport changed. And she had been so amused that she hadn't said a thing to him.
Do you mind, Charles? Having me pose as your wife, I mean ' .
Not at all. In actuality, he looked pleased at the thought, as though he had put one over on her, and she was amused too. Everyone assumed they were married now, and they were beginning to feel like it. He had even mentioned her to Chiang Kai-shek and referred to her unthinkingly as his wife. And perhaps in an important sense she was. She had pledged herself to him and come here because she trusted him. She couldn't have come farther than this with any man, or been happier that she had come, and as she kissed him again before she fell asleep, she smiled at him as she always did as she lay in bed at his side. They had made love when they got home, and now they were sated and content as they cuddled in the cool night.
I love you, Charles ' more than anything. He smiled at the whispered words, and touched her red hair with his hand.
So do I, Aud ' so do I.
Chapter 13
Charles and Audrey sat on the crowded train from Nanking for seven hours, and she thought they would never arrive. He jotted down some thoughts in one of his notebooks for part of the time, and she read a book he had brought along, but she was far too interested in the passengers on the train to concentrate on much else, and she kept glancing out at the countryside as they approached Shanghai and taking pictures. But nothing had prepared her for what they saw once they arrived there, as the train pulled into the station, and Audrey stared at the mobs crowding the platform. People going somewhere, others who had just arrived, beggars, street urchins, prostitutes, foreigners, all of them jostling each other, and shouting above the din. There were children begging and tugging at her skirts, a child with leprosy with stumps where arms had been, prostitutes shouting in French to Charles, as half a dozen English travelers hastened by. She could barely hear Charles speak as she fought against the pushing of the crowd, and clung to her vanity case and the briefcase he had entrusted her with while he struggled with their valises.
What? He had said something she couldn't hear and she struggled to get closer to him. What did you say, Charles?
I said welcome to Shanghai! he shouted back at her with a grin, and finally, mercifully, they found a porter anxious to take their bags. He hurried them outside to a line of waiting cabs, and the driver took them to the Hotel Shanghai, where Charlie usually stayed. The clientele was generally English and American, and the service was excellent. Almost like home, he teased as the porter set their bags down in the room. They had registered as Mr. and Mrs. Charles Parker-Scott here, and Audrey was quite used to the name by now, as she smiled at him from across the room.
It will be very strange to be just plain Audrey Driscoll again, you know. But that seemed a lifetime away now. Audrey Driscoll was part of another world, another life, as were Annabelle and her grandfather, and everything in San Francisco. This was the only thing that was real. The fascination of Shanghai, and the people in the swarming streets as she glanced at the window to look outside. She turned to look back at Charles again and he was watching her. He could no longer imagine a life without her at his side. They had come halfway around the world, and eventually they would go back again. And then what? He couldn't quite imagine it. He couldn't imagine settling down with anyone, and yet he couldn't bear the thought of her leaving him. But none of that had to be resolved now.
He wanted to take her to visit Shanghai a little bit before they settled down for the night, and when she had bathed and changed they went downstairs and hired a taxi again, to take them to the Bund where all the European stores and buildings were, and then back into the crowded streets of Shanghai, as she stared in fascination at the armies of prostitutes roaming everywhere, the children still in the street late at night, the beggars, the foreigners. It wasn't uncommon at all to see Western faces here and there seemed to be hundreds of them, Italian, French, English, American, and of course now there were Japanese too. There were brightly lit signs, restaurants, gambling halls, opium dens. There were no secrets here, and nothing that someone wasn't willing to provide for a price. It had none of the quiet dignity of ancient Chinese history, and was in no way what Audrey had expected, but it moved at a tempo that made one's blood race and Audrey had never seen anything like it. They had an excellent French meal in a restaurant run entirely by Chinese and patronized by an interesting conglomeration of the international set, many of them accompanied by Chinese girls, and afterward, Charlie walked her back to their hotel, as she gaped at the people in the streets and he teased her about her innocence. This was certainly not an innocent town. There was nothing one couldn't do or have or get, for a price.
It's quite something, isn't it?
It's amazing, Charles. Is it always like this? It seemed hard to believe that they could maintain that kind of energy all the time. And there were so many people here. The city was teeming night and day and Charlie was laughing at her.
Yes, it's always like this, Aud. Sometimes I forget just how decadent it is, and then I come back and it takes me by surprise for a day or two. It was in such sharp contrast to the sleepy villages one came through on the way, in Tibet and Afghanistan and the rest of China. Nothing prepared one for Shanghai, and he had in no way prepared her.
I wonder if it was like this in my father's day.
Probably. I think it's always been like this. If anything, it might be a little quieter now, though not much, since the Japanese attacked it. That should keep everyone on their toes. But it didn't seem to have changed things very much.
They reached their hotel and walked slowly into the lobby, holding hands as they chatted about being there. So much so that she didn't notice the couple standing near the staircase, talking quietly, and then staring at her as she and Charles walked past.
The man was in his early seventies, the woman fifty-five or so, elegantly dressed, discreetly but expensively bejewelled and well coifed with a smooth, perfectly done chignon, and diamond earrings in her ears. She stared at Audrey for a moment or two, and then said something to the man, who wore an English suit and horn-rimmed spectacles. He looked over them at Audrey as she began climbing the stairs, nodded at his wife and was about to say something to her quietly, as she called out.
Miss Driscoll? Almost as though by reflex, without thinking twice, Audrey turned around with a look of surprise and looked down from whence the voice had come, to see them standing there, looking up at her and then at Charles.
I ' my goodness ' I had no idea you were here ' . She blushed to the roots of her hair, while attempting to appear casual, and came quickly down the few steps, still holding Charlie's hand. She gestured to him and introduced him as her friend Charles Parker-Scott.
Of course. The woman looked impressed. I've read all your books.
Parker-Scott you said? The man nodded, looking with increased interest at him. Damn fine book you wrote on Nepal. You lived there for a while, didn't you?
I did. For over three years at one time. It was the first book I wrote.
Very, very fine.
But his wife was concentrating on Audrey now, glancing from her to Charles with questions in her eyes. They were friends of her grandfather's, Phillip and Muriel Browne. She was something of a busybody, and was head of the volunteers at the Red Cross. She had been decorated by the French for her work with them during the First World War, and she had been married once before, and widowed of course. Phillip Browne had married her for her immense fortune, some people said. But few people had much to say about them. They were respectable certainly. He belonged to the Pacific Union Club, like her grandfather, and was the president of the Boston Bank. They traveled to the Orient almost every year, and would have been Audrey's last choice of people to run
into. There was no doubt that her grandfather would hear about Charlie now, and she decided to do whatever she could to cover her tracks.
Grandfather didn't tell me that you were over here.
We've been in Japan for six weeks, but we always like visiting Shanghai and Hong Kong. She looked sweetly from Audrey to Charles, thinking to herself how handsome he was, and wondering if this were an old flame with them. Perhaps this was why she had never married anyone. She had always wondered about that, although she had never thought Audrey a particularly attractive girl. She seemed much prettier now, much softer as she stood with her hair in soft waves, framing her face, and her eyes dancing in a way they never had before. At least not when the Brownes saw her with her grandfather. It was the younger sister who was the pretty one ' married to Westerbrook, as Muriel recalled ' . Are you here with friends? Muriel Browne looked directly into Audrey's eyes, and Audrey prayed she wouldn't blush as she played the drama out for her benefit.
I am. From London. But they were busy tonight. Mr. Parker-Scott was kind enough to show me around instead. It's a fascinating place, isn't it? She attempted to sound innocent and not too bright, but she didn't think Muriel was fooled and she was right.
And where are you staying, Mr. Parker-Scott? It was a question that took him totally by surprise, and he didn't realize quite how anxious Audrey was to throw them off.
I always stay here. I'm very fond of the place.
So am I, Phillip Browne intoned, pleased that an authority like Charles would back him up. He was going to remind Muriel of that. She had been complaining to him about the hotel only that afternoon. And this proved he was right. Best hotel in town. Had to be if a man like Parker-Scott stayed there. I was just telling my wife today
Wanderlust (1986) Page 13