The Shanghai Wife

by Emma Harcourt

  Annie hurried out of the room and called for the house boy as she scribbled a note and quickly slipped it into an envelope along with the leaflet. She told the house boy to take it directly to the Commissioner of Police and gave him two coppers. When she’d seen the boy off in a rickshaw, Annie returned to where Ilma sat waiting in the lounge room.

  ‘I’m sorry I took so long but I could not hold on to that knowledge a moment more. It may not make any difference, but I feel at least I’ve done the right thing, finally.’

  Ilma left soon after. She seemed shorter than the last time they’d met, Annie thought, as she helped her friend on with her coat. The smell of tiger balm was still strong.

  ‘I haven’t told another living soul about Chow yet. Please keep my news private, Ilma, until Chow and I have decided together what to do.’ Annie kissed her friend goodbye and stayed by the door watching the car recede. Her stomach rumbled and she realised she hadn’t eaten anything since the eggs with Chow earlier. Annie poured herself a large glass of sherry and wandered through to the sunroom. In its cage, her bird jumped noisily around. She opened the latch and it flitted back against the bars; foolish thing. She felt an overwhelming desire to free it.

  ‘Come on, out you go, find your way.’ She gently gathered the bird into her hand, stroking its head with her fingers. Annie laid her palm flat and the bird darted quickly up to the ceiling before landing on the back of a chair. It cocked its head from side to side. Its feathers quivered with nervous energy and its breast throbbed visibly. The French doors were open and Annie moved quickly to close them but before she could the bird shot through and was gone. She watched from her back doors, but it was dark now and she couldn’t see amongst the trees and open space in her garden. The bird had disappeared.

  An hour later, the house boy found Annie still sitting in the sunroom, with the empty birdcage beside her. He gave her a note from the Commissioner. Annie read quickly; it was unexpected. The Commissioner had no knowledge of her claims against the Chinaman. Indeed, he said it would be highly presumptuous of a servant to even think he could approach the Commissioner of Police, let alone with an accusation against a well-known local businessman. But the Commissioner reassured Annie that now he had this information he would speak to the Chinaman. He admitted that the chances of an investigation were slim though, unless Li Qiang’s sister was brave enough to name her Green Gang contact and in his experience this never happened. Annie was confused. She read the note a second time but the Commissioner’s words were clear; he had no idea what she was talking about. Chow had not done as he said he would.

  At least the police now knew about the Chinaman, Annie thought as she gathered a rug around her knees and folded her legs up into the seat. The house boy brought her supper and she ate in the quiet of her sunroom. But her mind spun; why hadn’t Chow spoken to the police? She would ask him when he visited the next day.

  A knock at the door roused Annie late that night. She lay, still and alert, at first thinking she had misheard and it was just her house creaking. But when the knock repeated more loudly and insistently she could not ignore it. She turned on the hall light and walked softly to the front door, holding her breath.

  ‘Annie, Annie, let me in.’

  The sound of Chow’s voice was a shock. She pulled open the door and caught him as he fell towards her. He had been badly beaten.

  ‘Dear boy,’ she whispered. ‘What happened?’

  But before he could answer she led him through to the kitchen and gently sat him down to clean the blood and cuts. Chow pushed her hands away, embarrassed to have her tending to him, but he wasn’t strong enough to persist and gave up.

  ‘My god, who did this to you?’ She cried as she wiped away the blood and dirt. He took her hand and stopped her still.

  ‘I am all right, it is not so bad. Look at me, I am all right.’

  For a long while neither of them spoke. Annie cleaned Chow’s wounds methodically, squeezing the cloth tightly after each application as the bowl filled with pinkish water.

  He told her quietly, slowly, how a group had set on him as he left the Club, calling him a flea on the foreign dog’s back. He tried to fight them off but they were strong and outnumbered him. Some of the blood she wiped away was not his own. She heard his indrawn breath.

  ‘I’m sorry if this hurts. Come with me.’ She held Chow’s hand and led him through her bedroom and into her bathroom, locking the door behind them. They sat in silence on the tiled floor, listening to the water fill the tub. Then she undressed him, hesitating only a moment as she pushed his trousers down to his ankles. He stepped naked into the bath. She washed his face, his back, his hair. Then she undressed and got in. The sound of water echoed around the tiled room. They sat half submerged at opposite ends of the tub, eyes closed, listening to the other’s silence.

  ‘Chow,’ she paused, trying to find the right words. ‘What are we doing?’

  ‘Listening to the night, my bird, and being together.’

  ‘What do you want from me?’

  ‘I want to make you laugh, beautiful girl, silly question. I want to make you happy.’ He reached across and found her hand in the water. ‘I want you to be safe also, Annie. I am worried that being with me is not safe for you.’ She heard the shift in his tone.

  ‘You have saved me from danger more than once, Chow. When I am with you I feel completely protected.’

  ‘Why don’t you go to the hills for the remainder of the summer? It is becoming dangerous for us to be together.’

  ‘Were you beaten up because of me?’

  Chow looked at his hands as he spoke. ‘This is not your fault. You must trust me, Annie, it would be better if you left Shanghai for a while.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I cannot give you a reason, do not ask me, just listen, and know that I only say this because I care about you.’

  She nodded but her eyes searched Chow’s for the answer he would not give. She wanted to know, too, why he hadn’t gone to the police when she’d asked him. Yet even in her unease, Annie realised this was not the time for more questions. She shifted in the now cold bath as goosebumps prickled her skin, but it was Chow’s secrecy which made her shiver. After the bath when she’d bandaged his wounds, they lay together on her bed, their nakedness covered with a sheet. She smelt the soap powder, tangled with him in his cleanliness. He pressed firmly against her. It sent a sliver of something like treacle through her very core, making her groan out loud. She clapped her hand to her mouth, surprised at herself. He wasn’t kissing her. He rubbed and pushed and moved his finger into her wetness and she began to writhe with pleasure.

  ‘Do you love me Chow?’

  ‘I am here, aren’t I, my bird?’

  His hand stroked her face. She held it there against her cheek, kissing the palm as she tightened her grip on his wrist.

  Chow left in the early hours of the morning when the empty streets could not judge them. Annie slipped back to bed and didn’t wake until the house boy stood over her and spoke loudly, having given up on knocking and leaving tea beside her bed. He had another note from the Commissioner. It had arrived that morning but Annie had slept for much longer than usual. She scolded him for not waking her earlier. The poor boy disappeared with a disgruntled cluck of his tongue. Annie propped herself against the pillows as she read. They had taken the Chinaman in for questioning. Annie sat back and closed her eyes. Li Qiang’s death had not been forgotten. She hadn’t saved him but at least she’d helped to find his killer. It was up to the police now to put the pieces together.

  With the note was the returned image of the fish tattoo. She could give it back to Ilma. Annie rolled over and didn’t bother to wipe away the tears. An enormous sadness welled up in her for Alec and for the young boy; for all the waste.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Annie took the car to the Club. She couldn’t wait until Chow finished work and came to her house to ask him why he hadn’t passed on her information to the police? The brut
e would already have been taken in for questioning, if Chow had done as he said he would; she needed him to explain why he hadn’t. A niggling disquiet still rang in her ears after their conversation in her bath the previous night. She’d seen him beaten and spooked and this was a different man to the Chow she knew.

  Annie also intended on telling Natalia but that was not such a straightforward exercise; she didn’t even know where her friend lived, let alone how she knew the Chinaman or what hold he had over her? So she quickly wrote a note for Natalia and left it with the desk staff. In the note Annie explained that the Chinaman was under investigation and it would be a good idea for Natalia to stay away from him. She was yet to see Chow.

  As she turned back to the ladies’ lounge room and some tea, Annie caught sight of herself in the mirror. She brushed her curls down firmly with the palms of her hands. It was her own fault she knew so little about Natalia, but she would change that. Annie looked about for Chow but could not see him.

  Mrs Marsden was in the lounge. ‘Mrs Brand, have you heard the news?’ She grabbed at Annie’s arm and dragged her to sit. ‘Do you remember that oafish Chinaman at the May Ball? You’ll never guess what the police have uncovered!’ Annie waited patiently, sensing she already knew what Mrs Marsden was about to say. ‘It turns out he was an underground criminal, no less! The police raided his offices early this morning and they found Communist pamphlets and the paraphernalia required to produce them. He was even paying for students to go to the Soviet Union for training, so audacious! Apparently the man’s tattoo gave him away; a Green Gang insignia, can you believe it?’ Mrs Marsden waved her hands in front of her face, and a mottled flush of unconstrained satisfaction flared across her chest. She leant closer to Annie. ‘The Commissioner told me in strictest confidence that the man believed the Communists were a power to be reckoned with and thought he was getting in early and securing his own future. What a fool! It appears his Bolshie contact evaded capture, but at least they got the Chinaman.’

  This was much more than Annie had known. She gladly took the sherry Mrs Marsden offered, going over the information in her head. So the Chinaman was not only a killer, he was a Communist? She took another long drink as she looked around again for Chow. The cold liquid sparked in her throat. Mrs Marsden called for more drinks, but Annie excused herself and headed home; Chow was probably at her house already, impatient to share this latest news. She should have waited for him there.

  But the rest of the day passed without any visitors. Annie watered her trees and picked flowers. She sat a while hoping to see her bird in one of the fruit trees but knew it was a pointless exercise. She ate a sandwich for lunch and lay with her Yeats through the afternoon, dozing when she wasn’t flicking through the poems. Eventually she went for a walk, frustrated with waiting. The house boy would find her if Chow arrived while she was out, he knew her route. As she followed Carter Road to the corner Annie remembered one such walk when she’d only been in Shanghai for a few months. So much had changed since then. She’d bought a light bulb in Frenchtown only to get home and discover she couldn’t use it because the French had a different volt electricity grid; a uniquely Shanghailander’s conundrum. Indeed, it had only taken Annie ten minutes to walk from the shop to her home.

  It started to rain as she turned for home. Streaks of water formed patterns in the roads. Strangers moved through the rainy shadows; it was busy in the streets despite the wet conditions. From within the grey, she saw a familiar shape momentarily come into focus; the shoulders, the slight imbalance of weight leaning to the left—she pushed away her hair, straining to see, sure it was her father. She wanted to call out to him in the rain and wet and see him raise his face to her and spread his arms wide, as if to say, ‘I forgive you, my daughter.’ But the man didn’t acknowledge her waving hand and the stranger kept walking into the distance.

  Still, her father’s face stayed with her, the familiar disappointment in his eyes. Even in Shanghai, where she’d run to, so far from home, her father’s judgement followed her.

  Annie rubbed down her wet hair and changed into dry clothes when she got home. The house boy scolded her for staying out in the downpour but she was glad for the wash of cold, fresh rain. Chow didn’t turn up all that evening and Annie finally went to bed disappointed.

  The next day she took the car to the Club. It was unusual for Chow to miss a visit and Annie was worried. She waited until the late afternoon when she hoped it would be quiet, as it was past the time of day when ladies’ activities took place, so fewer Flues to bump into; Annie knew she would struggle with making small talk. There were still many police around, on every corner and outside every foreign commercial building but they were standing idly, unthreatened by the milling pedestrian crowds. She wound down the window and listened to the bubbling noise of traffic and chaos in the street. She slipped each hand into a glove as they approached the Club gates.

  There were two women sitting together talking quietly and they looked up when Annie entered the ladies’ lounge and acknowledged her with a nod. She moved past them to a chair by one of the long windows that overlooked the gardens and sat alone, looking out at the view. Despite the turmoil and fighting of the previous months, within the Club grounds it was as if there had only ever been trimmed lawns, clean space and quiet industry. A man raked leaves, and the image reminded Annie of so many other days when she’d sat in the Club lounge looking out at the life beyond these walls and wondered if she would ever really understand the Chinese. But with Chow as her guide, she had a chance to be on the other side of that wall and the thought filled her with excitement.

  She rang the bell and waited, expecting to see Chow appear. But a waiter she didn’t recognise arrived quickly and took her order for tea. She asked to see the head waiter and he disappeared. She knew she wouldn’t be able to talk openly to Chow in the Club, but he’d accept her invitation to tea at home. She poured herself some water from the sideboard and waited, as the glass frosted over with icy cold and she felt condensation wet her fingers.

  The same man returned with her tea, followed by a stranger dressed in the coat and tails that Chow would normally wear.

  ‘Good afternoon, madam. I understand you asked to see the head waiter, may I help you?’

  ‘No, thank you. I will wait until Chow arrives.’

  ‘Excuse me, may I introduce myself? I am the new head waiter.’

  ‘I don’t understand, where is Chow?’

  ‘The previous head waiter is indisposed. I am very happy to assist you in any way that I may.’

  ‘That won’t be necessary, thank you.’

  ‘Very good, madam.’

  Annie drank her tea in silence. The perfumed aroma reminded her of bumping into Chow in the Happy Joy Tearoom where he discovered this blend. She couldn’t remember him ever having a day off from work; he was so dedicated to the Club. But maybe the beating two days ago had left him more badly injured than he’d led her to believe. Did he have anyone to take care of him? She had no idea and realised how little she knew of Chow’s life. The sound of a peacock calling out in the garden broke through Annie’s thoughts. She watched the gardener put his rake away and shoo the bird out of the flowerbeds. Then he sat in a corner propped on his haunches and closed his eyes, as though resting.

  From beyond the door Annie heard the familiar sound of Mrs Marsden’s voice. Even though she planned her afternoon visit to the Club to avoid such a meeting, Annie was pleased to hear her. As the President’s wife, and one of the biggest gossips in Shanghai, she would know about any staff changes.

  ‘Mrs Marsden, how are you?’

  Annie stood and waited for Mrs Marsden to join her.

  ‘Good afternoon. Twice in two days, we are meeting a lot!’

  Annie didn’t know what to say but Mrs Marsden barrelled on and for once Annie was glad.

  ‘I’m here arranging next week’s bridge meeting. You’ll be there I assume. Let’s hope poor Flora has picked up her game.’ Mrs Marsden groaned
dramatically.

  ‘Who are you dealing with while Chow is unwell? I met a different chap claiming to be the head waiter. I’ve never seen him before.’

  ‘Oh, he’s all right, understands English and knows how to make tea. Chow’s not ill my dear, haven’t you heard?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Chow’s disappeared. He simply didn’t turn up for work yesterday. No one’s seen him or heard from him since but we suspect he’s involved with the gangs and did a runner. The police are doing a terrific job of rounding up these illegals. My Roger has put the cat amongst the pigeons, that’s for sure. Typical Chinks, can’t trust any of them.’

  ‘Are you sure? I can’t believe that of Chow.’

  ‘My dear, if anyone is going to be in the know it’s me!’

  ‘What if something happened to Chow—has anyone tried to contact him?’

  ‘What’s the point? He clearly doesn’t want to be found, and left us very much in the lurch.’

  Annie was stunned. She didn’t know what to say and looked at the older lady bleakly. A dusting of powdered makeup was visible in the light hairs on her upper lip and around the corners of her mouth where deep-etched lines snaked out like tentacles. Mrs Marsden was still talking and Annie nodded without really listening. She’d been so certain of seeing Chow that now she felt unsure how to proceed.

  ‘Why are people suspicious of Chow? What has he ever done?’

  ‘Don’t interrupt dear, it’s bad manners.’

  Annie felt a wave of frustration at the older woman’s patronising tone. Mrs Marsden wagged her finger at Annie.

  ‘You will come to tea tomorrow, won’t you? The Clancy girls will be there and, as I say, I’ve got some ideas for an end of season soiree I want to discuss.’

  ‘I’m just so surprised by Chow’s disappearance; I can’t believe he would be caught up in anything illegal. What exactly are people saying?’

  ‘They are saying that it is no coincidence he went off somewhere the very day a Green Gang hideout was raided. He must be connected; there’s no other logical explanation.’