But, the gentleman had recognized her. “Hello, Miss. Please tell the master that Daniel Bernard has arrived.”
“He’s already left.”
“Is that so? Then tell him that I came to say goodbye, as I am off to Europe again.”
Mr. Bernard turned to go, but hesitated a little. “How did you end up here, after the brothel?” he asked in a playful whisper.
Ada blushed, “I’m trying to regain my virtues. I hope you don’t mind?”
Mr. Bernard touched the brim of his hat. “I take off my hat to such willpower.”
He went down from the porch and waved to Ada.
When she returned to the children’s room a Princess and a Dragon game was in full swing. Hobu, the captured beauty, sat on the windowsill and Brittany was blowing soap bubbles that were meant to represent her fiery breath. Now it was quiet in the house apart from the sounds of a mandolin drifting from Lissie’s room.
Ada was desperately scared of being fired. She knew she was a long way off being a real teacher. She played with Brittany rather than teaching her. If Lissie actually bothered to check on her daughter’s tuition, she would be horrified.
What if Mr. Bernard tells them that I used to work at the Havana? Ada thought.
Being fired would mean only one thing—she would have to become a taxi-girl again. Ada dreaded to even think of that smoky lecherous world, which was so far from the comfort of Brittany’s bedroom with its pink, flowery wallpaper.
Please may Mr. Bernard not tell them, Ada prayed. Please God, save me and forgive my sins.
CHAPTER 25
TELL ME, WHAT IS LOVE?
1.
Jiří crossed himself and walked into the church filled with a smell of frankincense. Light fell through the stained glass windows onto empty benches. He knelt before the altar and murmured, “O Virgin of virgins, my Mother. To you I come, before you I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word incarnate, despise not my petitions, but, in your mercy, hear and answer me…”
Nina was up to some shady business behind Jiří’s back. She was fuming at some unknown Antoine and Patrick, “They don’t want my money! It doesn’t matter how much I pay them, they still do a lousy job. Pan Labuda, tell me please, do they not listen to me because I’m a woman or they’re just stupid? Or I can’t choose good workers?”
Jiří didn’t know what to say. He had no idea what was going on.
Nina told him to sign papers for the dispatch of some diplomatic mail. And who, he asked himself, was going to go to prison for that? Nina would cop out without a doubt—she was very cunning, surely she already had a plan to run away with a suitcase of money.
From time to time she felt remorse. “Forgive me please for everything bad that’s happened. Would you like me to buy you a cello?”
“What for?” sighed Jiří.
“Well…you can be a composer. You have musical talent, don’t you?”
Nina wanted to shower Jiří with favors to feel better about herself.
“I have a friend,” she once told him, “you know him: his name is Daniel Bernard. He says, ‘Wherever I go, the world must be bettered. If I use the Club’s restroom and see some paper on the floor, I’ll pick it up so after me it’ll be cleaner.’ Isn’t that wonderful?”
Nina met Daniel almost every day; they always had some business to discuss. She even introduced him to Lemoine. Jiří wondered whether Bernard was aware that the Czechoslovakian Consulate was a scam.
If Daniel invited Nina to the restaurant, she would take Jiří with her, as a cover to distract attention. Bernard was a married man and Nina didn’t want any rumors.
Jiří knew he was perfect for them. The two would discuss Japanese legends, Korean cuisine and the peculiarities of the tea ceremony in eastern provinces. Or they would talk about the release of the Blue Express hostages—the bandits finally freed them for seventy thousand dollars in ransom. Nina and Bernard paid as much attention to the Czechoslovakian Consul General as they did to the basset puppy, Mucha, which Bernard took with him everywhere.
Jiří was surprised that Daniel never talked to him in Czech as he definitely knew the language.
With his knees numb, Jiří finished his prayers. He looked at his disfigured hand: he should have saved it and everything would have been different. In 1919, during the retreat from Omsk, his train was stopped and they had to go the rest of the way by sleigh. Till the end of his days, he would be haunted by the memory of the black column of refugees leaving dirty snow, slimy rags and the dead.
He saw a lost little girl; she leaned on a pile of snow with one ear flap of her hat torn and hanging by a thread. Her eyes were full of a child’s unendurable horror.
“Pan Vorlíček! Pan Vorlíček!” Jiří woke up his sleeping officer. “Let’s take her with us: she’ll die here!”
Pan Vorlíček said that the horse was exhausted and if Labuda wanted to take care of Russian children, he should get off the sleigh and walk on foot, so the child could have his seat. Jiří gave the girl his seat and several days later, a surgeon, eyes red with insomnia, amputated his frost bitten fingers.
2.
Tamara looked sadly at her girlfriend. Nina Кupina was slipping away from her like poplar down—you stretch out your hand to catch it and it flies away through the movement of the air from your palm. Nina now had a business on the side, which was not for Tamara to know. Nina had Daniel Bernard.
She had started to read the works of Sun-Tzu and Machiavelli; she even recited some of them. Mr. Bernard had implanted foreign words into her head and poured foreign blood into her veins.
Tamara tried to breathe slowly, as her Chinese needle lady had taught her. Gather myself and calm down, be wise and unflappable.
Nina was sitting at Tamara’s feet on a low little bench. Her thin suntanned arms tightly wrapped around her knees, her delicate collarbones and the little depression between them—what a pleasure to the eyes! But her muscles were tense, as if Nina was just about to break free and run. Tamara could see something wasn’t working in her life.
“Tell me, what is love?” Nina asked.
“There is a plant with beautiful flowers, an orchid,” Tamara replied. “For many years, people tried to grow it in glasshouses, but it wouldn’t survive in an artificial environment. It turned out that if there were no special fungus on its root the plant would die. Even the seeds wouldn’t sprout without it. Beautiful flowers are the result of a synergy between plant and fungus, so the most important is to find the right kind—”
“I think I’ve already learned to distinguish my people from others,” interrupted Nina. “Most men, if they won the lottery would quit their job, buy useless junk and would change lovers every other night. But my person will invest all the money into his business to raise it up on a much higher level.”
Here they are, the traces of Daniel Bernard, thought Tamara. Three days ago he’d come to visit the Aulmans’ and used the exact same words.
“What’s going on between you and Daniel?” Tamara demanded.
Nina went pale. “Nothing.”
Tamara had long ago learned to decipher Nina. Nothing meant the following: Daniel Bernard wasn’t ready to leave his wife. Poor little girl Nina!
She had tried to keep her relations with Daniel Bernard a secret, but all the time kept slipping up and giving herself away. Neither sympathy nor practical advice could convince Nina that Tamara wished her well and wanted to be her ally. She always thought everyone was trying to lure her into a trap.
When Nina thought everything in her life was going well, she would drop in and visit Tamara for just a minute to discuss their masquerade ball business. On doubtful days, she would stay till late, timid and ashamed, like a prodigal child returned to her parental house. The girl knew she wouldn’t be turned away.
Tamara was only a couple of years older than Nina, but the difference between them was huge as if it was a whole generation. It wasn’t a matter of age. Tamara belonged to a calm pre-
war class; she believed in intelligence and was able to plan her life. Nina, on the other hand, was so hardened by war that she couldn’t believe in anything or anyone. How could she make plans or have trust if the world was shattered to pieces in front of her eyes and her good-hearted neighbors turned on her, hunting her like a beast, totally convinced in their righteousness?
Indeed, Nina resembled a teenager for Tamara. She was full of it: disrespectful to the authorities and stubborn, with the need to show off and an acute dependence on what others thought of her. Just like a teenager, she constantly doubted her own abilities. All these traits were from Nina’s childhood, frozen on take-off. She was too young when she jumped into her first marriage, and when her husband went to war no one was around to teach her adult magnanimity. As a homeless child, she was left to fend for herself and thought only of one thing: How to survive? She had learned how to escape the police, to squeeze sympathy out of others, to earn, to fight and to win. She was a daring girl with an iron will and a clear mind, but completely helpless when it came to matters of love and relationships. Not because of lack of talent, but lack of knowledge.
Even her dreams were childish: to charm the most prominent man around. How to do it and what for? To Nina, these questions were of no importance. For her, the main objective was to make everyone sick from envy by parading Daniel Bernard in front of them.
Tamara wanted to help, but teenagers never listened to adults. There was no point in telling Nina that it wasn’t nice to destroy somebody’s marriage. In this matter, Nina’s conscience was lacking, rather she had a military point of view: too bad that another woman has what I need, but I’ll sort it out. And she wouldn’t give a damn about the property ownership record, law or any other rubbish.
If it was anybody else but Nina, Tamara would be outraged. However, those we love we forgive. Love is a desire to understand, and when you understand you are left unable to condemn.
Daniel Bernard was a riddle to Tamara: his façade was glorious, but what kind of person was he underneath? Tamara knew her jealousy made it difficult to be unprejudiced. She wanted her little girl to be happy, but if everything went how Nina dreamed, she would close the Consulate and gallop with Daniel to Europe. But what if he rejected her? The mere thought filled Tamara with revulsion—one had to be blind, deaf and mentally challenged not to adore this fragile, curly beauty.
Tamara was so intrigued to find out what Mr. Bernard thought of Nina, she invited him and his wife to her house to carefully observe them.
If Edna wasn’t Nina’s natural enemy, Tamara would have liked her and asked her again to formal dinners. But it would never be the kind of friendship where she would call in the middle of the day and say, “I have coffee and cakes. Come to gossip.”
Edna didn’t have a bad bone in her body. She reminded Tamara painfully of those virtuous Amelias and Eleonors from romantic novels. Their conscience was sparklingly clean; eyes—dovelike; hair—silky… and their inner world as sterile and boring as an intensive care unit in a hospital.
Edna was in no doubt that her husband loved her. Daniel flawlessly played the role of a perfect spouse. Such artful pretence spoke of big experience—it wasn’t a good sign. Oh, damn my spine, Tamara thought. If she could move around the city, the necessary enquiries and information would be found in seconds.
Nina did the unthinkable—she confessed everything. “It’s all over,” she lamented.
Tamara looked surprised. “Who with? With Daniel?”
Nina nodded.
“Explain please.”
A little wrinkle appeared between Nina’s eyebrows, as if she’d accidentally scratched herself with a pencil. “Daniel’s off to Europe.”
“With Edna?”
“No, by himself. He sent me a note. Said he was on urgent business and didn’t even offer me the option of accompanying him.”
Nina talked with intensity and challenge in her voice; it was as if she had started stripping in public: Here, look at me to your heart’s content. “He called me every day, he was clearly in love…but…Tamara, he never tried to kiss me!”
Nina grasped her hands together. Months of her relationship with Daniel had all come to this sudden departure.
Tamara wondered whether Mr. Bernard had realized what kind of a bird Nina really was and fled not from her, but from himself.
“I could guess what’s the matter,” Tamara said softly. “You know, when tourists visit Egyptian shrines everyone tries to take a little stone as a memento, as evidence, to claim at home: I’ve been there! By doing this, they destroy the pyramids. In the same way, beautiful and wealthy people often are taken to pieces as prizes and souvenirs. And this is not a pleasant feeling for them.”
“What do you mean?” Nina snapped.
“You’re chasing Daniel not because you need him, but because you want to prove yourself: I can do it. Daniel understood you’re after a souvenir.”
Nina straightened her back; the wrinkle between her eyebrows disappeared.
“It’s not true,” she said, with a voice full of disdain.
3.
Step by step, like a Spanish flamenco dancer, Nina was getting closer to her dream. Daniel would call her to share an amazing phrase he found reading André Gide. He knew she would understand and appreciate it better than anyone else. One thrilling day, he spirited her to his holy sanctuary, the library in the Shanghai Club: no woman had ever entered there before. He even advised her on how to better disguise her Czechoslovakian Consulate. And more than often, he was holding her hand just above the wrist.
Nina was dying for a passionate release. Three times already, they had been caught in sudden typhoons and had to hide from the rain in a car or in an empty café, or remote spice shop. They were enveloped by the smells of ginger and cinnamon, adding to the feeling of danger and happiness. Daniel would take his warm jacket off and wrap Nina’s cold shoulders.
But they still needed an official reason for their meetings. This was their art collection, which apparently could be sold for an incredible amount of money.
Daniel was sure of it. He took photos of every item and sent the pictures to his friends in Europe who ran museums, art galleries and were themselves antique collectors.
“I stirred up all the art aficionados; we just need to wait for an avalanche of offers,” he said to Nina. “And then we’ll take our riches to auction.”
Daniel always spoke about it in plural: “We’ll take our collection”. Nina never doubted that they would go to Europe together. She had everything ready: all the licenses obtained, all the papers were signed. When she asked Tony what he was planning to do with the collection, he just brushed it off, “Do whatever you like, I don’t care”. Nina considered it a present.
Through Lemoine, she bought a skillfully made Latvian passport. The only thing left was to know which country they were going to. As soon as Daniel told her, Nina would send a man to Nagasaki, where no one knew her. There were consulates from all of the European powers and it was easy to get a visa in a day. All it took was a formal letter from a reputable company, Your presence is necessary for handling the deliveries.
Daniel’s departure was inexplicable. It was as if he had succumbed to a sudden obsession and sent his stupid note:
I have to go. I apologize for not coming in person to say good bye.
Was Tamara right: did Daniel believe that Nina only valued his outer veneer? But it was totally untrue! Or maybe he felt guilty toward Edna? Daniel was never comfortable mentioning his wife’s name and he was constantly trying to prove either to Nina or to himself that they were mere friends. All Nina’s attempts to consummate their emotional affection for each other had failed. Daniel always had an escape route.
Sometimes Nina thought that he was enjoying the game. Indeed, it might be very pleasing to see a woman expressing her passion. Or maybe he didn’t get her cues? He didn’t realize how he humiliated Nina every time he gracefully rejected her? If he did understand everything, then as a de
cent person he should have said to her either a yes or a no.
But then, Daniel’s departure was his answer. His no was self-evident.
Loneliness—such a deformity, Nina thought. I drag it on my back like a hump; I’m ashamed that at twenty-seven no one cares about me.
Nina went to Jiří’s after visiting Tamara. She needed company of someone who wouldn’t be indifferent. She opened the door with her keys. It was quiet in the apartment; Jiří was on the sofa, reading. He noticed her and hurriedly put his book under the pillow.
“Good evening,” Nina said. “Let’s go for a walk?”
He shook his head, “I can’t, I’m busy. … No, I won’t come.”
Even here Nina wasn’t needed.
Nina submerged herself into the bath. The warm water and the scent of lavender soap calmed her a little.
Qin passed Nina a hairpin to rearrange her hair.
“Today I went to the temple on Babbling Well Road,” the amah said. “I lit red candles and burned joss sticks for Guan Yin goddess. It’s all for you.”
“For me?” Nina asked, surprised.
“Of course, Missy! So your labor will go easily and so Guan Yin will send you a son.”
Nina pressed her hand, covered in soapy foam, to her forehead. She wanted to say something, but couldn’t.
CHAPTER 26
THE WAR AGAINST OPIUM
1.
The police team encircled a house on Canton Road with a pharmacy on the lower floor. They were undercover, dressed in civvies. According to their reliable and expensive source, there was a storeroom of opium inside.
“Keep behind me,” said Johnny Collor to Felix. “Usual petty sellers are cowards; you just need to threaten them a little. But, if you are onto a real-deal smuggler, it’s best to keep some distance. These people will shoot a bullet into you without a wink.”
Felix listened intently and nodded his head. It was his third month with the police and he was serving as Collor’s assistant and drinking buddy. He wasn’t paid a salary, but Collor took care of him, stealing Chinese agents’ bonus money and giving it to Felix.
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