by Ian Hamilton
“I was sent here by Margarita from the resource centre downstairs. She spoke to someone here by phone and said it was okay for me to come. I’m Chow Tung’s granddaughter.”
“Wait a minute,” the nurse said.
She disappeared behind a wall in the middle of the station, and when she re-emerged, another nurse was with her. “You’re here to see Mr. Chow?”
“I am.”
The nurse was stout and grey-haired and had two red stripes on her uniform lapel. She looked Ava up and down. “This is unusual.”
“I know, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I’ve just flown in from Canada. I had no idea he was so ill until yesterday.”
The senior nurse came through a gate in the counter. “He’s down at the end of the ward. I’ll walk you there,” she said.
“How is he feeling?” Ava asked.
“He’s just had a round of therapy, so he’ll be feeling a bit beat-up, but other than that he’s an ideal patient. Never complains.”
“How many rounds has he had?”
“This was his fourth. The others were in the day-patient clinic.”
“Why is he staying in hospital this time?”
“I can’t discuss that. You’ll have to speak to him or his doctor.”
“I understand.”
The nurse stopped at a closed door. “This is his room.” She looked at her watch. “I’m going to give you ten minutes. Don’t make me come and get you, and check in with me before you leave.”
“I will.”
“And, Ms. Lee, don’t expect to be able to do this again.”
Ava nodded.
The nurse opened the door. Uncle lay on his back, his eyes closed. His face was pale and drawn; he had lines under his eyes and beside his mouth that seemed to have sprung from nowhere. His mouth was slightly open, the skin under his chin hanging loose. Ava gasped. She had never seen him look so old. She had never once imagined him to be so frail.
The nurse walked to the bed and checked the intravenous tube. As she did, he turned his head towards them and opened his eyes. When he saw Ava, he closed them again but didn’t move his head.
“He’s all yours,” the nurse said.
There was a chair in the corner of the room. Ava lifted it and carried it next to the bed. She sat and put her hand on top of his. She then lowered her head onto the bed, her eyes tightly shut. She invoked St. Jude in a whisper, and as she did she felt tears trickle from the corners of her eyes. She began to sob.
“I will not be able to bear it if you cry,” Uncle whispered.
“I can’t bear the thought of your being here,” she said, raising her head to look at him.
“When I spoke to you this morning, I thought, She does not believe my story about a friend from Shanghai,” he said, his eyes still closed.
“I wanted to, but other thoughts kept intruding.”
“We know each other too well.”
“How can that be a bad thing?”
He opened his eyes and she saw they were gleaming. Her spirits rose.
“So your flight was on time?”
“Of course.”
“Did Sonny get you?”
“Yes.”
“He has been following me, he and that woman of his. He thinks I did not notice.”
“He thought you might have.”
“Well, I give him credit for that.”
“He’s just worried. We all are.”
“Who are ‘we’?”
“Him, me, Lourdes.”
“Anyone else?”
“No.”
“I want to keep it that way.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“Did they tell you what I have, the nurses?”
Ava stroked the back of his hand. The skin was soft and clear, his nails manicured. “No, but I know you’ve been getting brachytherapy, and I’ve been hearing about and seeing the stomach problems you’ve been having. When you threw up blood last week on the street . . . Well, I assumed the worst.”
“It started about six months ago, and fool that I am, I ignored it for three months. And then I could not let it go anymore.”
“Stomach cancer?”
“Yes.”
“What caused it?”
“Smoking, they think.”
“But you’re still smoking.”
“Yes. I went to a gweilo doctor named Parker when I first became aware of my symptoms. I figured he would not know who I was, and so there would be no gossip. When he gave me the diagnosis, I asked him if I should stop. He said, ‘Why? It won’t reverse the damage. And after all these years, the withdrawal would only cause you extra stress.’”
“But they’re treating the cancer.”
“There is not much they can do,” he said, his eyes closing again as if the words pained him. “It is into my liver and pancreas. They cannot perform surgery, and even if they could, at my age it would not be wise. They offered me chemotherapy, but after Parker described it to me I decided to pass. So I am taking the radiation treatment. It buys me some time.”
“Is there some treatment available anywhere else, like the United States?”
He placed his free hand on top of hers and squeezed. “Ava, I am eighty-four years old. Why would I want to become a desperate man now, when I have spent my entire life being in control? No, this is the process I have chosen, and I am going to see it through my way. I value my dignity — maybe even too much — and I have a reputation that I intend to uphold. So Ava, I am telling you, as much I respect you, do not try to do anything else, and please keep the rest of the world at bay. I understand about Sonny and Lourdes, and I also know them well enough to know they would not dare talk about me to anyone else. You are not quite so afraid of me.”
“Amanda gets married in January,” Ava said softly.
“What does that mean?”
“She needs me here, so I’ll be staying in Hong Kong until then at the least.”
“I am sure she will appreciate that.”
“When I’m not working on the wedding, I can spend time with you. I should be able to visit every day. We can meet in the mornings for jook.”
“I do not intend to live only on congee,” he said, a tiny smile playing on his lips.
“You know what I mean.”
“I think I do.” He opened his eyes and gazed at her.
She felt a flutter of panic, a fear of what she would see in them. But she saw the same resolute eyes she’d been looking into for more than ten years.
“There are some things I need to discuss with you,” he said. “If we do it now, then we never need to discuss these things again, do we.”
“Do we have to now?”
“It would give me some peace. I have been thinking about these things for some time now.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“You know I have no family left.”
“Yes.”
“And I have been in Hong Kong for so many years that my ties to Wuhan are more wishful thinking than real.”
Ava nodded.
“I met with a lawyer two months ago and did my will. I named you as executor.”
“Uncle, I do not want to talk about your will,” Ava said.
“Perhaps not, but I do. And then, as I said, it will be done, and it will be one less thing for me to worry about.”
“Uncle, please —”
“I am going to leave ten million Hong Kong for Lourdes, and I am also going to give her the apartment. If she wants to sell it and move back to the Philippines and live like a millionaire, she can do that. I am also leaving ten million to Uncle Fong. He did not save enough for his retirement and he does not have any children to care for him. So I am giving him the ten million and asking you to look in on him from time to time to make sure he is okay. He has been a good friend.”
Ava said, “Yes, he has been a good friend.”
“Sonny is a different matter,” Uncle said hesitantly. “I am leaving him the car and some money as well, bu
t we need to do more than that for him.”
“Like what?”
“You must hire him.”
“Uncle, I have no need —”
“Listen to me, Ava. Sonny is not a man who can be left to his own devices. He needs structure; he needs to feel that he belongs to something, to someone. If he is on his own he will get into trouble, and the kind of trouble Sonny can get into is not the kind that will earn him just a slap on the wrist . . . Ava, no one could be more loyal.”
“I know that, Uncle, but I have no plans to live in Hong Kong.”
“That is not what I hear from Wong May Ling.”
“May Ling is saying what?” Ava said.
“Actually, it was the husband, Changxing, who has been telling me things. He says May Ling has a plan to start up a business with you, and she has put aside a hundred million U.S. dollars to fund it. He is not happy about it but he will not oppose her, because he is afraid of losing her.”
“I know nothing about any of this.”
“Now you do.”
“Uncle, I have no plans to live in Hong Kong, so I don’t know what you expect me to do about Sonny.”
He shook his head. “Anything will do. Tell him he is working for you but you need him to look after that half-brother of yours, or you need him to chauffeur your father or Amanda Yee. Come up with something, anything. We need to keep Sonny occupied.”
“All right,” Ava said, knowing it was useless to argue. “But about May Ling — she’s never discussed any plans with me. As far as I’m concerned I have only one partner, and that’s you.”
“I know, but as I told you months and months ago, I am not going to be around forever, and May Ling is a powerful and very intelligent woman. And as you found out in Macau, she is a woman with guanxi . . . Ava, what will you do when I am gone? Take vacations?”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“You would make a strong team.”
“If she puts up a hundred million dollars, we won’t be a team. She’ll be the boss. I would never work with her unless we were on an equal footing.”
“Why is that not possible?”
“I don’t have a hundred million dollars, or anything close to it.”
“When I die, you will.”
Ava lowered her head, her teeth biting into her lip. “I can’t talk about your money.”
“You need to talk to Parker. He brings clarity to things,” Uncle said. “If I had gone to a Chinese doctor who knew me or had heard about me, he would have given me two bags of herbs and told me what he thought I wanted to hear. When I asked Parker what he thought I should do, he told me I was an old man who had incurable cancer and that I should get my affairs in order. I appreciated his honesty and I have taken his advice. So, like it or not, you are going to inherit the bulk of my estate. What you do with it is up to you. All I ask is that you look after Uncle Fong and keep Sonny out of trouble.”
Ava felt tears well in her eyes again. She wiped at them with her loose hand. “Uncle, I don’t want any of this to happen.”
“Neither do I, but here we are.”
She felt herself starting to come apart. The feeling of helplessness that had overcome her in Surabaya was back. This isn’t my life anymore, she thought. This has to be happening to someone else.
“Ms. Lee,” a voice called.
Ava thought she was hearing things.
“Ms. Lee, I gave you ten minutes and it’s up. You need to leave now.”
The nurse stood in the doorway, looking severe.
“I’m sorry. I lost track of time,” Ava said.
“You’re abusing our kindness.”
“I’m sorry,” Ava said, standing.
Uncle looked up at her with what she could only think of as contentment. “I am glad things are settled,” he said. “I was worried about how I was going to tell you. You have made it easier for me.”
“I’ll be back tonight.”
“At regular visiting hours,” the nurse said.
“At five thirty,” Ava said to Uncle.
“I am out of here tomorrow.”
“And I’ll be here to get you.”
“Ms. Lee . . .” the nurse said.
Ava bent over and kissed him on the forehead. “I love you,” she whispered.
She was walking towards the door when she heard him say her name. She stopped and turned. “Yes, Uncle?”
He was on his back, his eyes closed. “Nothing, my girl, nothing at all.”
COMING SOON
from House of Anansi Press
in February 2014
Read on for a preview of the next thrilling Ava Lee novel, The Two Sisters of Borneo.
( 1 )
Ava Lee sensed something was wrong the instant she saw May Ling Wong standing alone at the entrance to the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception.
It was the second Saturday in January, and the sky was overcast. It was cold and dank, typical weather for the middle of a Hong Kong winter. Ava was in a Bentley limousine with Amanda Yee, the bride-to-be and her future sister-in-law, and three bridesmaids when she spotted May Ling. Amanda was about to marry Ava’s half-brother Michael, and Ava was the maid of honour. They had driven from Sha Tin, the town in the New Territories where Amanda’s parents lived.
The five women had been up since six that morning, getting coiffed, made up, and dressed by some of the most expensive hairstylists and makeup artists in Hong Kong. Ava had resisted having her shoulder-length black hair twisted and sprayed into an elaborate updo. She had declined to have her face slathered with foundation and powder. But she had no choice about the sleek lavender silk dress that Amanda had chosen for the bridal party. The tight strapless gown fell to Ava’s knees and made her feel as if she was enveloped in coloured plastic wrap.
Ava was in her mid-thirties but this was only the third wedding she had attended. The first had been her older sister Marian’s, when she married a gweilo civil servant named Bruce. The previous August her best friend, Mimi, had married Ava’s best guy friend and occasional work associate Derek Liang, at Toronto City Hall in front of ten friends and family members. Mimi was pregnant with Derek’s child, and the wedding had been little more than a formality. They had already started their life together, recently moving into a house in Leaside, one of Toronto’s more affluent neighbourhoods. Afterwards Derek had treated everyone to lunch at a nearby Chinese restaurant. The Hong Kong wedding, in contrast, would be going from the splendour of the cathedral to an eight-course feast in the ballroom of the Grand Hyatt Hotel.
When the limousine arrived at Immaculate Conception, three photographers and two cameramen were waiting for the bride and her bridesmaids. Twenty or thirty of the several hundred wedding guests were huddling together on the sidewalk for a last-minute cigarette. May Ling stood to the side, apart from the others. She wore a fitted coral and pale green Chanel suit, the skirt coming to just slightly above the knee. She stared vacantly, her face impassive, her back pressed against the grey stone church wall.
“There’s May,” Ava said to Amanda. “She looks a bit troubled.”
“Huh?” Amanda said, her attention focused on gathering up the metre-long train of her ivory Vera Wang wedding dress.
“Nothing,” Ava said, knowing the word troubled shouldn’t have escaped her lips. The wedding might be taking place in Western fashion in a Roman Catholic church, but Chinese superstitions couldn’t be that easily dismissed. Even a negative word, let alone deed, was viewed as having the potential to jinx the married couple. As the maid of honour, part of Ava’s role was to make sure that Amanda stayed protected inside a happy bubble.
When Ava got out of the limo, May Ling took a step forward and waved. She smiled, but her brow was furrowed and the smile was fleeting.
Amanda slid from the car, posed for the cameras, and was then surrounded by the bridesmaids for more photos. The plan was for them to escort her to a small room just inside the main entrance, where she could make any last-minute
adjustments and prepare for the walk down the aisle. As the bridal party started towards the church, Ava moved next to Amanda.
“We have about twenty minutes before the ceremony starts,” Ava said. “I’m going to have a quick chat with May Ling and then I’ll meet you inside.”
“Where is May?”
“Over there,” Ava said, pointing, and realized with relief that Amanda hadn’t heard her earlier comment.
Amanda glanced at May. “I’m surprised she’s here.”
“Why?”
“She phoned me a few days ago to say she might not make it.”
“Why not?”
“She didn’t say. She just said she had some issues in Wuhan to deal with.”
“Well, she’s here, so I guess the problem has been resolved. Now you’d better get inside.”
“Don’t take too long. I’m more nervous than I thought I would be,” Amanda said.
“I’ll be there shortly.”
Ava turned and walked towards May Ling. The two women had met the previous year, when May and her husband, Changxing, had hired Ava and her partner, Uncle, to help them locate and recover the millions of dollars they had lost purchasing forged paintings. Ava and Uncle were then in the debt-recovery business. The case had not gone smoothly, and the relationship between the two women had degenerated into betrayal and mistrust when May had used and deliberately undermined Ava. But a short time later May had come to Ava’s assistance in a case that involved Ava’s family — specifically her half-brother Michael — and the two women had found common ground and begun to build a friendship.
May took a step forward and held out her arms. Ava slid into them and the two women hugged. “You look absolutely gorgeous,” May said.
“I spent last night and this morning with Amanda and those twenty-something friends of hers. They made me feel old, not gorgeous.”
“You’re only in your mid-thirties. I’m in my mid-forties, so imagine how I feel.”
“May, men adore you,” Ava said.