‘What if the man was not a kidnapper, what if he was sent by the Green Gang?’
‘Now you’re being irrational.’
‘I’m frightened, Alec. I need to tell you why.’
‘Hush, hush. The police do a good job, Annie. They’ll find your attacker.’ Alec wrapped her in his arms and she buried her head into his chest.
‘“We know who you are,” that’s what he said,’ Annie’s muffled words trailed off.
‘What are you talking about?’
Annie sat up and faced Alec so she could answer him properly. ‘A young kitchen hand from the Club went missing and I stupidly thought I could help him, only he’d joined the Green Gang and the same day I confronted him about it and asked him to come home, he was killed. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner but what if the men were from the Green Gang?’’
‘I doubt the Green Gang would consider you a threat, blossom.’
‘What have I got myself into?’ Annie shivered uncontrollably and Alec put an arm around her shoulder.
‘I don’t want you thinking about it anymore. Let’s go home, shall we? If it makes you feel better, I’ll speak to Roger tomorrow. We’ll both be at the station on Nanking Road and I can talk to him about it then.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
A shaft of sunlight cut through the curtains and lit the bedroom. Annie never slept deeply so the brightness woke her easily. The previous night, sleep had been even more elusive. Her body ached from the attack. When sleep came she dreamt of shadowy figures running away from her, blurred grey visions that never eventuated into anything recognisable. She opened her eyes to find Alec was not beside her. A moment of panic quickly turned to relief when he appeared with a tray.
‘It’s my turn to look after you.’ He put the tray down between them and leant over to kiss Annie’s forehead. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘I’m sore all over. A bath might help?’ Annie sipped her tea as Alec disappeared into the bathroom followed by the sound of running water.
‘Have you heard anything from the police?’ she called to him.
‘Nothing, but don’t forget I’m meeting Marsden this afternoon. I’ll go into the office, then head over to Nanking Road. I should be at the Club by five to meet you for a drink?’
‘Sounds lovely. Can I use the car today? I’ll feel safer.’ Annie had decided there would be no more walks through areas she didn’t know. This was a city without order and if the rules were breaking down, it was time to start taking care.
‘Yes, of course.’ Alec gave her another kiss on the forehead before leaving her to her bath.
Annie took the car to the Club after a quiet lunch at home. She would be late for bridge but after her attack yesterday she could only do things slowly. As they turned into Fuzhou Road, she noticed a bamboo cage hanging from a telegraph pole. Inside were two rotting heads, Chinese criminals, cut through at the neck and left to fester in the fly-swarming heat. The men’s eyes were open and staring at nothing, opaque and bulbous. Annie swallowed but her mouth quickly filled with saliva again. Her stomach churned. She opened the window as they turned down Sichuan Road and leant into the rush of air. A newspaper stall flashed past with a headline: ‘Student Sentencing Galvanizes Anti-Foreign Movement.’ It was gone before she could read any further, and she turned away. The car paused at a set of traffic lights and a street hawker shook his fist at a regular customer who stopped at his rival’s stall to save the effort of crossing the road. He spat into the dirt, cursing loudly at everyone around him. Men here shouted less but louder: the heat made them quick to anger, the humidity made them slow to respond. Annie shrunk back from the sight. This was more than the usual edginess of summer heat; there was fresh tension in the streets.
Annie pulled on her day-gloves and tightened the clasp of her bracelet as they pulled up at the Club. If she was lucky she might have missed bridge altogether and there were only a few hours before Alec said he’d meet her for a drink. She could catch up on her reading.
Mrs Marsden approached Annie as soon as she saw her enter the lounge.
‘My dear girl, what a horrifying ordeal you’ve been through. You are so brave to come out and join us, even after bridge.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Marsden. I’m not feeling too bad today.’
‘Well, your health is my main concern.’ She raised her eyebrows at Annie and leant in as if expecting a secret confession.
‘I’ve nothing to hide. My attacker ran off before he could really hurt me.’
‘That is a relief. The police will no doubt find the culprit and that’ll be the end to it.’
A servant approached Mrs Marsden and spoke to her quietly. She followed the man out of the room, returning not long after. A mottled flush coloured her neck. She clapped her hands again and drew the ladies together around her.
‘I don’t want anyone to panic, but there’s a riot of some sort passing by the Club. I’m told it’s nothing for us to fear, however, my husband says we must stay in the lounge ’til they’ve gone. I suppose we are getting quite good at this lark!’ She laughed theatrically before seeking out a chair. Annie watched her sit heavily and struggle to pull out a handkerchief from her pocket. She patted her lips rapidly.
‘What’s it about, do you know?’ Annie sat beside Mrs Marsden.
‘Roger says they’re heading to the police station where the student prisoners are waiting to be transferred. I’m not to alarm the women but he said they are armed with all sorts of homemade weapons, quite nasty.’
‘Is it the station on Nanking Road?’
‘Yes, but it’s a long way from the Club. They’ll get short shrift from the police once they get there.’
‘I thought Admiral Marsden was at the station?’
‘My dear, I’ve just spoken to him in the corridor.’
‘But Alec is meeting him there …’
‘Not any more. Roger is staying right here ’til this threat has passed.’
Annie’s book fell to the floor with a thud. Someone had to warn Alec. She must find Admiral Marsden. He was standing in the foyer, with a group of men, deep in conversation. As Annie approached she saw the concern on their faces.
‘Admiral Marsden, may I speak with you?’ He broke away from the group.
‘You shouldn’t be here, Mrs Brand. Didn’t my wife tell you to stay in the lounge? This is no time for socialising.’
‘She did, but I’m here because I know my husband is at this moment waiting for you in the Nanking Road police station.’
‘Oh lord, yes, I’d quite forgotten my appointment with Captain Brand in all the hoo-hah.’
‘Has someone been sent to warn him?’
‘No one can get out now. There’s a mass of angry Chinamen beyond the gates and it’d be murder to send one of my men into it.’
‘But what about the men at the station, are they safe?’
‘Safe enough if they keep their heads screwed on, nothing to be done now anyway.’
As they spoke a swell of drum-like noise drowned out the Admiral’s voice. Annie looked towards the Club doors which were being hurriedly pushed shut by two servants.
‘How can you be so blasé?’
‘It’s a police station; with guns and trained constabulary. If needs be, Alec’ll get his hands dirty.’ Admiral Marsden tugged at his jacket as he buttoned it about him. ‘I’m sure the Captain would not appreciate his wife pleading on his behalf in such an indecorous fashion.’
‘I can’t see anyone else showing the slightest degree of concern for my husband so I’d say my indecorous pleading is the best he’s got.’ She turned away in anger. Chow was standing beside her, with an empty drinks tray tucked under his arm. He motioned for her to follow him and she found herself standing in the cloak room.
‘He is wrong, you know. This is more serious than the police are willing to admit.’ Chow spoke quietly.
‘Alec is at the station, Chow. What can we do?’
‘I’m afraid this time Admiral Marsde
n is correct. It’s too dangerous now to go out.’
‘But they have no idea what is coming.’
‘It would be madness to go. You must stay here and trust the police will keep him safe.’
But Annie had no intention of hiding in the ladies’ lounge like a coward. She walked away, hoping Chow would assume she was returning to the lounge to wait. Then she peeled off to the kitchen and slipped out the staff exit to the alleyway which led into the lane behind the Club.
Two waiters sat on upturned crates, smoking. They stared at Annie as she approached. She was glad to have come across them as they could help her get away. She asked them to find a rickshaw quickly.
It was surprisingly quiet while she waited. No police guarded these gates; she’d be able to slip through easily.
The men returned, followed by a rickshaw. Annie gave them each a copper and stepped into the seat.
‘Nanking Road,’ she told the driver.
‘Mrs Brand, what are you doing?’ It was Chow, running towards her shouting.
‘Stop, stop.’ He pulled on the driver’s pole forcing him to stop.
‘It’s too dangerous for you to go, please, be reasonable.’
‘I won’t leave Alec. I’m going to bring him back. There’s every chance I’ll beat the protestors to the station and we’ll be in the Club having a drink in half an hour.’ She forced herself to sound convincing.
Chow turned away briefly and mumbled something under his breath. His shoulders rose and fell in quick succession. Then he took a step towards her.
‘Move over, I cannot let you go alone.’
The rickshaw was old, but its owner had not been in business long, his young legs and the rickshaw’s wheels worked quickly together to pull the carriage over the potholes and dints in the road. They swung left together as the rickshaw swerved around a pile of rubble too big for the old wheels to ride over but it moved apace and before long they were only two streets from the police station, travelling north on Nanking Road. Annie noticed some of the shops were closed: a sign of nervousness amongst their owners but she could not yet see any of the protestors. Chow directed the driver to take a side road, and Annie understood he hoped to avoid the demonstration altogether. She heard thunder in the distance but the sky was clear.
‘Chow, do you hear that?’
‘Yes.’ He peered around the canopy of their seat, as the oversized wheels wobbled along rhythmically. The rickshaw pulled up abruptly. Annie lurched forward and saw, in a hurried moment of awkward clambering, the large gathering in the street. Their passage was blocked. The rumbling sound wasn’t thunder. It was the communal throb of the noisy crowd. Chow leant forward and slapped the driver on the back to get him to turn around. But the young man spat into the dirt, dropped the poles and ran off. They were faced with a wall of slowly moving protestors. Chow was still there, beside Annie; he could have run off like the driver and melted into the crowd, but he stayed. She grasped his arm and he took her hand and held it firmly.
‘I will continue to the station alone, this crowd will not harm me. But you must hurry and go now, before they are upon us.’ Annie felt his heat on her skin. She knew the sensible response was to get out of the mob’s path as Chow suggested, but she couldn’t move. A sickening sensation bubbled in her stomach as she watched a lone, bold man rush towards them. His mouth stretched wide as he shouted.
Annie grabbed at Chow as the rickshaw rocked. The man grasped onto the edge, trying to jump up. His hand was right there, so close it looked like a ghastly amputation. Then Chow hit him fiercely across the head, again and again.
‘Annie,’ Chow’s voice was urgent. His hands on her waist were strong and it hurt as he lifted her up to standing.
‘Listen to me. You must go back and turn left; there are guards at the gates only yards down that road. I will get to the station. I will find Captain Brand, I promise you.’ He had to shout to be heard above the din. Then he pushed her roughly. ‘Can you run?’ he shouted, impatiently.
The pressure of his hands bruised her shoulders. But it shocked her into wakefulness. The noise of the crowd had grown louder, sucking all the air from the street.
‘Watch me,’ she replied and as she leapt from the rickshaw Annie shouted frantically again, ‘just watch me.’ Then she ran, though her chest hurt and her panting sounded like someone else was beside her. She lost a shoe, but she kept running, as fast as she could, away from the angry mob, away from Chow in the rickshaw, away from the horror of this moment, and all the other moments of pain and loss.
Chow’s voice reached her: a cry of defiance, echoed by the mob’s roar. She had to look back. She saw him grab at the rickshaw to get some traction from the rocking. The crowd pushed and swayed. His head moved about frantically as he tried to watch them all. But there were too many. His arms flayed and scrabbled through the air as he was thrown from the vehicle.
Then hot, sweaty hands pulled at her. She had watched Chow for only a moment but it was long enough for one of the protestors to catch up to her. An overpowering smell cloyed in her nostrils amongst so much body heat and sweat. The man pulled her skirt and it ripped easily. She grabbed at his arm, pushed it hard away. A wooden pole stabbed into her stomach and she gasped and doubled over with pain. Everything swayed. The face in front of her leered; teeth and lips drawn wide in a distorted, grotesque smile. Then he fell against her, mouth open on her chest and she felt the single bullet’s thud of impact, intimately close. Warm, bloody wetness seeped through her blouse and she knew he was dead.
The mob’s chanting was muffled; the sound of the gunshot deafened everything to a dulled echo that throbbed in her head. Where had the shot come from? She was on the ground; her blouse clung to her skin with the sticky warmth. The man’s heavy body felt limp. One rough push sent him slipping from her. She looked down at her dead attacker, staring for a moment into the unclosed eyes of someone’s son, overwhelmed with nausea and her own gushing relief at still being alive. Then the sound of shouts flooded through to her brain, and she was up again and running. She ran fast, her dress flying, stockings and legs exposed, heart thumping as each foot hit the ground. The air rushed past her but there was not a moment to breathe it in. Ahead, she saw guards and barbed-wire gates. She knew safety lay behind them. The guards held up rifles, pointed towards her. She covered her head with her hands, still running, and shouted at them not to shoot. But as she got closer she realised that it was the men chasing her who the guards were aiming for. She heard their feet stamping the ground and felt panic pushing through her laboured breathing. She ran past the guards, couldn’t stop running, unaware of the gates groaning with the weight of heavy metal as they shut behind her. Someone tried to grab her; she heard a Scottish accent calling her to stop and come back. But she couldn’t stop. She had to keep running.
It was the silence of her own home that finally calmed Annie. She slid down the wall of her living room, panting and coughing up bile as she collapsed. There was soft carpet under her feet, a wall to hold onto, framed pictures reassuring her from their familiar mountings. Her breathing slowed. She shivered with cold from the sweat and the tears that came in a torrent of exhausted shock.
‘Alec, Alec, are you here?’ Annie ran frantically from the living room to the kitchen and through to their bedroom. There was no answer. Her feet barely sounded as they flew across the floorboards. The house boy appeared but said nothing as she pushed past him through the French doors into the garden, turning full circle in a mad frenzy.
‘Alec,’ she screamed into the emptiness.
CHAPTER NINE
August 1925
Sometime through the night, Annie woke. It was past the hour when the moon still shed light on the silent garden, past dark, in the blackest time of night. She wandered to the kitchen and walked around the familiar room, moving her body through the darkness. There was no sound save her breathing. Her fingers ran the smooth edge of the kitchen table as she circled it. She caught the sob in her mouth, but her need
to cry was too strong and she bent over with the pain of it.
It had been two months since the Nanking Road incident and Annie had not left her house or allowed in any visitors, although there’d been a steady stream of flowers and food parcels delivered to her house. She turned away the Club ladies, Mrs Marsden, even Natalia. Chow had come each week but she wasn’t ready to face him.
It was in the newspapers and everyone was talking about it; the May 30th incident. The protestors moved past her and Chow to the police station where the students were being detained for transport to the gaol, demanding justice be done and the students released. The British inspector ordered his men to fire; there was no time to send for reinforcements and he feared his station was in danger. Within an hour, men lay dead near the station gate, while many more died later. The police claimed they had no choice but to open fire in response to the attack, but the incident was quickly branded a British imperialist crime. More students were joined by merchants and workers in a strike that left the city floundering. The governor saw the hand of the Bolsheviks behind it all and claimed the new nationalism was merely the old anti-imperialism relabelled. He vowed to show the Chinese that they were not intimidated, and the foreign community produced its own militia composed exclusively of non-Chinese: the Shanghai Volunteers Corps.
Annie no longer cared about any of it. She shut herself away from the world altogether. Alec was dead, killed by a bullet that no one could confirm was fired by a rioting local and not one of their own police.
She roamed through her house. Her body ached with memories. When the day got too hot, Annie retreated to her bedroom. She slept ’til dusk shrouded the blood that stained the streets in darkness and fear could be disguised by Shanghai’s night-time distractions. The dance halls and gambling dens reopened and the city throbbed with life ’til curfew time.
Annie untied the cord of her dressing gown and sighed as she looked around for a house dress to wear. She shivered in only her slip and knickers and turned away from her reflection in the dresser mirror; it was her fault Alec was dead. He’d gone to the station because of her meddling. She felt her insides churn. She couldn’t think about the riot without being overcome with shuddering grief. So she blocked it out.
The Shanghai Wife Page 13