The Shanghai Wife

by Emma Harcourt

  Butterflies tingled in Annie’s stomach. She concentrated on eating, sensing her husband’s presence stronger and fuller than ever.

  The next day feathery tendrils of silky fog hung in the air. It was mid-morning but they weren’t moving. Annie stepped cautiously, curiously, out onto the deck. The ship was shrouded in mist. A smoky hue of light was visible across the distance and it reminded her of the night beacons. But now, between that light and where she stood, Annie couldn’t tell if there was water or land. She rubbed the goosebumps on her arms as her shoulders shivered. In fact, she couldn’t tell where the edge of the deck stopped. She breathed out slowly, listening to the dense stillness around her. A ship’s foghorn bellowed, long and deep, signalling its position. The sound lingered like a lonely echo, cushioned by the fog, while powdery spots of mist grazed her cheeks.

  She turned her head to one side and frowned at a different, unusual noise floating across the foggy air. It rose slowly in volume as though moving towards her through the opaqueness. As the sound grew closer she heard crowing and squawking. She instinctively raised her hands for protection, thinking a flock of birds was about to land on her head. With it came a pungent smell like wet, fouled wool. She looked up and around, but couldn’t see anything through the fog’s dense cover.

  She stumbled forwards. Her shoes slipped on the damp boards. She grabbed something. It was the cold, wet railing. A gust of air billowed up the side of the ship and whipped her hair back from her face. A splash of waves against the ship’s side broke the fog and she found herself leaning into the misty drop to the water and the river’s deep.

  Then she heard voices and the deck lit up from a frame of light as the hatch to the bridge opened. Alec appeared. His white shirt was bright against the darkness. He looked tall with his captain’s hat firmly placed centre, brim dipped low, on his head. Even his black shoes shone with authority. He clapped another fellow on the back as he looked out into the fog. They were laughing while behind him other men in the room cheered.

  ‘Alec?’

  He saw her then, and immediately stepped out to help. ‘Annie, what on earth are you doing here? I thought you were resting?’

  ‘A girl could die of boredom in that cabin.’ Despite her words, she felt a little wobbly. ‘I thought I’d get some fresh air.’ His arms were warm round her back as he took her into the bridge and sat her down.

  ‘This weather is very normal, nothing to worry about.’ He dropped his voice and gave her a serious smile. ‘We often hit fog between Shanghai and Chinkiang. It’s like losing your sight, tricky navigation.’

  ‘Then why are you all laughing?’

  ‘Out of relief, blossom. Did you hear anything outside just now?’

  ‘Yes, in fact I did—very strange noises.’

  ‘That would be the local chicken boats, stuffed to the rafters with crates of fowl. They make an awful din but they’re our saviours in these conditions. Those fellows know this river better than anyone; most of them have been running the same course since they joined their father’s boats as boys. If we’re lucky enough to hear the crowing of cockbirds we know we’re not far off course. And the message just reached me from the watch that there’s a din of crowing like you wouldn’t believe!’

  The fog stayed with them until lunchtime. Annie heard the coolies’ bare feet running along the deck as they checked the water depth blindly with long poles. She stayed on the bridge with Alec, watching the dull light of the fog shift and swirl, and it felt like theirs was the only boat in all the world sailing along the Yangtze.

  The next day they were due to pass the city of Chinkiang and Annie wanted to watch from the deck. She had read that the city was picturesque, enclosed by an old stone wall. The ship moved slowly, allowing her to watch as the huge wood and iron gates of Chinkiang were opened wide for the day. A line of people snaked out along the path, some pushing barrows, some carrying scythes, others leading bullocks. All of them wore peaked straw hats so that Annie saw in their silhouette a miniature mirror of the distant hill tops.

  But as the shoreline came into closer view, she saw filth and flotsam washed against the banks with each small wave. A dead dog’s bloated stomach bobbed above the water. Children wearing only the bottomless pants abhorred by foreigners moved about, prodding the water, occasionally lifting something of value from the dirty mess.

  The sight didn’t shock Annie; she’d seen similar in Shanghai, but it reminded her that there was little romance in living on this river. She’d been lulled by their languid progress into a gentler vision of this country. But the Yangtze was a working river, which Alec continually reminded her, and for him, the summer months were the busiest. The river levels rose and that meant the larger cargo ships travelled the full route of the Yangtze, from Shanghai to Hankow, and on to Ichang in the middle section and finally Chungking in the upper Yangtze. These months Alec transported fuel regularly to Chungking. He was gone for months, depending on the conditions. Often the ship was delayed in shallow sections requiring coolies on shore to painstakingly drag the vessel slowly along with ropes strapped around their bodies and attached to the boat. Or Alec would be forced to stop and take action against bandits who shot at his ship from rocky outcrops when they were in the upper section of the river. But there were also days of calm sailing along the wide, brown waters which Alec described to Annie as extraordinary, the natural beauty of the landscape unsurpassed by anything he’d seen. Now these would be shared memories.

  Afternoons were languid and uneventful as they made the run through a wide expanse of open river. Annie walked the deck and watched the scenery. Everything slowed with the rhythm of the river. A stork flew off the bank, its thin legs hung gracefully below long curved wings. The shadow of its extended neck floated on the water’s surface. Another took off, and another, ’til soon the sky was full of their angled airborne shapes, like floating paper cut-outs. She watched them turn towards the horizon.

  A spray of water caught her on the cheek and Annie raised her face to the cool sensation. The wind changed direction and pushed through the sleeves of her shirt so that they billowed and flapped about her arms.

  ‘That’s Little Orphan Rock. You can see the Buddhist Temple on its southern face.’

  She hadn’t heard Alec approach. In front of them a bulbous rock rose like a breaching whale from the river’s flat surface. Built into one side were a series of temple buildings, their slanted roofs dipping towards the water. Right at the tip of the rock sat a single temple with an air of isolated distinction.

  ‘I imagine that’s a very hard temple to reach.’

  ‘Yes, indeed.’

  They passed Nanking a day later. The dock bustled with activity, while bicycles and automobiles jostled on the road. The sound of a few car horns reached Annie across the wind. A community existed in Nanking that rivalled Shanghai. She’d heard the parties were as gay as their own. One of Alec’s friends had recently transferred up to Nanking and travelled there by rail, the last link to Shanghai. She stayed on the deck through the morning as the uneven bend of Nanking’s stone wall receded.

  Annie looked forward to the evenings, when Alec joined her. She chose a pair of wide, linen trousers, their pale green colour a compliment to her darker eyes. Her hair fell loose and a thin band of turquoise drops sat snug around her neck. But the material clung about her uncomfortably and she wished the temperature would drop. When the wind died, every inch of the ship became a humid oven. She joined Alec on deck in a light cotton dress instead.

  ‘Those hills in the distance are getting closer.’

  She looked up into his face. The line of his jaw was relaxed and his eyes glistened with the water’s reflected dark. This is what he looks like happy, she thought.

  ‘My goodness, Annie, they’re a sight up close. I’ve never seen such steep cliffs drop right down to the river’s edge. They’re like thunderbolts thrown to earth and lodged there for good.’ Alec shook his head and slipped his arm around her shoulder.
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br />   ‘How long before we reach them?’

  ‘In a day or so the gorges will come into view. I need my wits about me. It’s a different beast altogether, travelling the upper Yangtze.’ He turned to her, and gently tucked an unruly curl behind her ear. ‘I’ve been considering what to do and I’ve decided I can’t keep you with us. It’s too dangerous for a woman. I’m sorry, blossom, but when we reach Ichang at the foot of the gorges you’ll be getting off.’

  ‘For goodness sake, Alec, I’ve come all this way, don’t make me go home now, just when it’s getting interesting.’

  ‘I wish I could, but it’s too dangerous. Trouble is closer than I thought. Pirates aren’t usually active for at least another month which would give us time to make it north to Chungking. But this year the crops have failed, people are hungry, and that means more to gain for the devils who attack us. What’s more, the warlords are stirring things up, and news of the student unrest in Shanghai has reached the remoter port towns. Everyone’s nervous. I’m not hearing anything good from my contacts in Nanking.

  ‘So I’ve sent a telegram ahead to the Merchant Service Club in Ichang. I have contacts there and I’ve stayed at the Club in the past. It has adequate accommodation and a dining room. The president’s wife will meet us at the docks and she’ll chaperone you until the TS Ah-Kwang arrives. It should only be a matter of days. The Ah-Kwang’s going direct to Shanghai; it’s a passenger steamer so you’ll have a faster run than on this old cargo ship.’ Annie shook her head with frustration.

  ‘My love, I can’t afford to let you continue travelling with us, not if it puts you in danger.’ Alec reached for her but Annie shrugged out of his embrace. The pit of her stomach swirled.

  ‘What about you? The danger is as real for you as I!’

  ‘I’ll take on armed guards at Ichang as usual, and don’t forget doing the final run above Ichang gets me that automatic bonus. We deal with this sort of thing on the river frequently. It’s just not the place for a woman, especially my wife.’

  ‘It might be worse back in Shanghai. We left the city to be safe, now you want to send me back. I don’t understand?’ She turned away. An uneven piece of wood dipped and bobbed in the current and Annie watched til the wood was a small thing in the huge river, too far for her to make out if it was still moving. Shanghai had certainly changed since they’d arrived the previous winter. Armed guards now stood on street corners and no dance hall stayed open beyond midnight. It was difficult to find a party where the conversation wasn’t all about the Communists and the nationalist Kuomintang. It was why Alec had insisted she join him on the Yangtze.

  ‘You don’t need to understand.’ Alec pulled Annie around to face him. ‘What’s important is that you trust me; I’m your husband, after all. But if it helps stop that frown, then I’ll tell you. I picked up a copy of the North China Daily News in Nanking. Reports of home are rather good. It appears detectives have broken a significant gang ring in the city which was operating out of an opium den at the back of a local tearoom. They arrested the leader and his men.’

  ‘I don’t understand how this makes the city any safer. Everyone knows Shanghai has a dark side full of gangs, and that most of the laneways house opium dens and worse.’

  ‘This is the Green Gang we are talking about, the biggest and strongest underworld organisation in Shanghai with local rings of operatives who report up a chain of command which we don’t even know the full extent of. If the police have broken the gang’s central powerbase and confiscated a significant haul of weapons and ammunition, then this will have a huge impact on their ability to operate. The paper says the gang will flounder without its leader and likely dissolve into petty disputes as factions compete to take over. It’s a big win for the municipal police and the city will be quieter now.’

  ‘But—I’ll worry less if we stay together. If this ship is your domain, then keep me with you; protect me here, like you said you would.’

  ‘I’ve made my decision, as I said, it’s just too dangerous.’ Alec took her hands as he often did. ‘Everything is arranged and settled.’ He spoke calmly.

  ‘But you’re leaving me, again?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be home a month after you.’

  A painful band tightened in Annie’s chest as she stared out at the river’s dark. ‘Being here together is bringing us closer, don’t you see that? If you send me home now, I’ll be all alone.’

  ‘Annie, my love, you won’t be alone in Shanghai. We have so many friends to keep you company.’

  ‘Don’t you hear me, Alec? I don’t want to go back to Shanghai. I want to stay with you.’

  ‘But you love Shanghai, blossom. We have a good life there, with a decent house; it may not be as grand as some, but it’s good enough, isn’t it? We dine at the Club, we entertain, and you even have servants to take care of you. I don’t understand.’

  ‘I don’t care about any of that, it’s all just decoration. But this journey is about us. You told me I’d finally see your river.’

  ‘Annie, my love, I’m doing the best I can. Everything is arranged and I will not change it now. It’s just too dangerous. Enjoy the quiet of Ichang. I believe they have a bridge club and an excellent tiffin.’

  ‘Good god, Alec, is that what you think of me?’ She caught her breath on his name and turned away quickly so he wouldn’t see her tears.

  Annie couldn’t sleep that night. She pushed the sheet down to her toes in the hope some breeze would relieve the heat that pressed on every inch of her body. Was she wrong to expect more from her husband? She’d been so caught up in the notion of being his wife that Annie hadn’t considered how, or indeed if, they would work together as a couple. Now she’d seen this fuller version of him it felt utterly cruel to cut short her stay on the boat and their chance of closeness. She thought about what he had said and shook her head. Maybe what they had was enough for Alec.

  She got up and ran her hands under the tap, the cold water flashed on her cheeks like ice. Leaving her father hadn’t changed anything; she had no more control over her life now, the only difference was that she took care of a husband. Yet marriage was the job she said yes to. She wanted to scream, and tell the girl in the mirror that everything would be all right. Only she knew it wouldn’t change anything, and stared ruefully back, willing herself to keep going.

  The porthole was open and the night’s quiet noises drifted through to keep her company—the odd splash of a fish jumping, creaks and groans from the body of the ship as it sat at anchor, and the distant sound of bats calling out in the dark. She hadn’t set foot on land for three weeks and she wasn’t sure how many more days until they reached Ichang, but Annie’s journey back to Shanghai had begun.

  There was one last major port before Ichang, at Hankow where they stopped to take on supplies. Sampans and junks filled the channel that ran between two cities on either side of the river. Hankow was close by them on the left bank, while on the opposite far bank was Wuchang, capital of Hupeh Province. Tea factories crowded the shoreline and Annie breathed in the strong smell of tannin as she watched the crowded river from the deck.

  A long, wooden junk with sails that split the air in two triangular flashes of white pushed up against the side of a departing ship. Annie could hear shouting from someone standing at the head of the junk beneath an arched dome of matting. A woman appeared, gesticulating to her five oarsmen to get as close to the side of the bigger vessel as possible. Annie watched in amazement as the junk safely manoeuvred through the churning waters of Hankow Channel, attached to the larger ship. The woman then shrilly called her men to move off, and the junk slipped into the distant river depths once more. The foreign ship had been oblivious to the whole affair.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Four days later, Annie held tight to the railings as they bumped hard against the company pontoon at Ichang. The river’s swell sucked water down and under the hull. Men threw lines to the coolies on board to secure the ship. The air smelt of fumes
and sewage, no more the open river. She held a lavender-scented handkerchief to her nose and watched as they came up against the moorings.

  A ladder was being lowered and the air had been still since they’d docked. A line of jetties marked the distance between the ship and the shore. In a few short steps she’d be back amongst the Club ladies. In her mind she pictured a nosy English matron sent to chaperone her and smoothed the skirts of her dress in readiness. The short day-gloves felt tight; it had been weeks since she’d worn them. Beneath her the ship groaned as it pushed against the pontoon. It sounded like a lament to her freedom.

  ‘There you are!’ Alec pushed towards her past the coolies who were busy loading fresh supplies. ‘Everything packed and ready?’

  One of the coolies dropped a bag of tea and it sunk helplessly under water. ‘That’ll be a day’s wages,’ Alec swung round and barked at the man.

  Annie looked at him with resignation. Here was the Shanghai husband she recognised.

  ‘It’s going to be just fine here, blossom. It’s for the best.’

  On the grassy verge beside the roadway she kissed him goodbye. His lips were tangy and dry. She rested her head against his chest and listened to the reassuring thud of his heartbeat. The crunch of car wheels in the loose stones made Annie turn and squint through the sunlight. The dust caught in her throat. An older woman stepped out, her white hair neatly curled in a thick bun at the nape of her neck. Her long grey skirt touched the toes of her shoes as she walked. The laced shoes themselves were so clean and polished Annie thought they must be new. Her smile was warm and friendly.

  ‘You must be Captain and Mrs Brand?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How do you do. I’m Ilma Pitt. Let’s get you back to town and out of this sun, shall we, Mrs Brand?’