The Concubine Affair

by Quig Shelby

  ‘I am going pretty one,’ said Heshen ‘I will not waste anymore of my time on you.’

  ‘Do you come here often?’ asked Fu.

  ‘Every night I wish upon a different star,’ she replied.

  ‘I am pregnant, and need to be married before my Father throws me out,’ she said.

  ‘Ah,’ said Fu.

  ‘And you?’ she asked.

  ‘My troupe leaves in the morning,’ he said.

  ‘Then why not stay and talk with me tonight. And great magician, please make a wish for me.’

  Every night thought the dawdling Heshen. In that case my beauty we shall meet again tomorrow night.

  ‘It worked Alain,’ said Orvid grabbing him by the shoulders.

  ‘So the girl is safe,’ said Alain smiling.

  ‘For one more night, but she goes out every night to the same place, and Heshen knows where she is,’ said Orvid.

  ‘But what else can we do?’ asked Alain.

  ‘You’re right Fu can do no more,’ said Orvid.

  Alain looked relieved. It was a sad tale, but they had urgent business, not a wild goose chase.

  ‘Fu leaves Peking in the morning,’ said Orvid.

  ‘Well then, it is out of our hands,’ said Alain.

  ‘But what if Miranda Holt lived, then wouldn’t this gardener’s love also be saved?’ said Orvid.

  ‘In theory,’ said Alain ‘if their love was strong enough. But Orvid, you have no connection to Miranda or her murder.’

  ‘I know,’ said Orvid ‘but I know someone who does,’ and a wide grin lit up his face.

  ‘Why all the secrecy?’ asked Peter as Alain closed the curtains. Orvid looked even more suspicious, fidgeting.

  ‘Because we are about to tell you something so fantastic,’ said Orvid.

  ‘That people would kill you for it,’ finished Alain.

  ‘You remember that talk we had, after meeting in the cemetery,’ said Orvid.

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘And what I said about time travel?’ Orvid asked.

  ‘Yes, but I thought it was the grief talking,’ said Peter.

  ‘It’s possible,’ said Alain.

  ‘We have done it,’ added Orvid.

  ‘Even if it were true then why would you help me?’ asked Peter.

  ‘Is not your grief worth helping?’ asked Alain.

  ‘Perhaps you should ask why we wouldn’t help you,’ said Orvid.

  ‘I’ll try it,’ said Peter.

  It didn’t really need that much thought. What was there to lose that he hadn’t already?

  ‘And guys thanks anyway,’ he said.

  Alain didn’t give him the spiel about don’t tell anyone else. If it worked out he wouldn’t be coming back.

  He looked at the clock nervously; he was back in his old bedroom.

  ‘Peter,’ shouted his mother ‘breakfast is ready.’

  He glanced in the mirror and saw the youth he once was; happy and carefree. How time and sadness had ravaged him.

  ‘Sorry Mum I haven’t got the time,’ and he was already grabbing the engagement ring from the top of his wardrobe.

  ‘Where are you off to in such a hurry?’ asked his father.

  ‘Cambridge to see Miranda,’ he replied.

  ‘And Dad I don’t care what you say, we’re getting married.’

  ‘Thank god I got here in time,’ said Peter.

  He was in Miranda’s university room.

  ‘Peter you’re so melodramatic. It’s only a party, and you know you can trust me,’ she said.

  ‘I know, it’s just that I wanted to ask you something in case I lost you forever,’ he said.

  ‘Well go on then,’ she said ‘don’t just stand there.’

  He pulled the engagement ring out of his pocket.

  ‘Look I haven’t got much money, and I’m only an apprentice gardener, but will you ...’

  She jumped into his arms.

  ‘Of course I will marry you, I’ve been praying in my dorm every night that you’d come and ask.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Of course, you know me better than anyone in the world Peter.’

  ‘True,’ he said smiling.

  ‘Then you should know this isn’t really me,’ she said ‘I only want to be with you,’ and they kissed.

  ‘Where are we going?’ he asked as she grabbed his hand.

  ‘To the party of course.’

  ‘Listen up everybody,’ shouted Miranda, and someone took the Rolling Stones off of the gramophone.

  ‘We’re engaged to be married,’ she shouted.

  There were whoops of delight around the room, except from one Marcus Forster and his friend, the trainee medic Lawrence Calder.

  ‘Lucky bastard,’ whispered Marcus in Lawrence’s ear.

  ‘And guys, sorry,’ continued Miranda ‘but I’m leaving Cambridge.’

  There were cries of ‘no,’ and ‘stay,’ but they couldn’t convince her otherwise.

  ‘I’ve found the love of my life,’ she said proudly holding onto Peter.

  ‘Well that’s blown that then,’ said Marcus.

  In the morning Miranda had her bags packed, ready to leave on the train back home with Peter.

  ‘You know I would never have made a good barrister,’ she said.

  ‘Why not?’ asked Peter.

  ‘I’m too honest,’ she replied.

  ‘Then what do you want to be?’ he asked.

  ‘A baker, and Mrs Johnson,’ she replied.

  ‘Peter what’s the matter,’ she asked.

  ‘Oh nothing, I just had a feeling for one horrible moment that I was sitting in someone’s kitchen, and that I’d lost you forever,’ he said.

  Alain was right Peter had completely forgotten his life of misery; he and Miranda both had a second chance.

  ‘It’s like he was never here,’ said Orvid, looking at the empty chair.

  Archie poured them another brandy.

  ‘You know I’m really worried about Verity,’ said Marcus.

  ‘You mean about her discovering Ivy,’ said Lawrence.

  ‘God no, it’s much worse than that, I think she’s seeing someone else,’ said Marcus.

  Lawrence tried to look surprised.

  ‘Well you’ve had your money’s worth,’ said Lawrence ‘maybe it’s time for a divorce.’

  ‘And be taken to the cleaners, no way,’ said Marcus.

  ‘So then you let her off.’

  ‘I don’t do forgiveness Lawrence, you should know that.’

  And they paused to think of the only other option.

  Marcus tried to cheer himself up.

  ‘Guess who I saw in town the other day?’ he asked.

  ‘No idea.’

  ‘Miranda Holt, and looking as gorgeous as ever. She’s opened a cake shop.’

  ‘You can’t be serious,’ said Lawrence ‘she’s dead.’

  ‘Really, well you’d better go and tell her, because she’s looking as hot as she ever did.’

  Lawrence didn’t doubt him, poor Marcus didn’t have a clue. Alain’s drug was an antidote to such amnesia.

  ‘I don’t know what she’s taking but she looks twenty years younger,’ said Marcus.

  But hold on thought Lawrence; that would also mean no Bastille. He had to rush back.

  ‘Look Marcus I’ve got to get home,’ he said.

  ‘It’s alright dear fellow I know what you mean, the Pierrepoint isn’t what it used to be,’ said Marcus.

  ‘But Doctor Calder you’re mistaken, this is our house, yours is on the next street in front of the park,’ said one of Lawrence’s golf buddies.

/>   ‘You wouldn’t know the number would you?’ asked Lawrence.

  ‘Of course its number 29, we came to Kay’s birthday last year.’

  ‘Who was it dear?’ shouted his wife.

  ‘You wouldn’t believe it. It was Doc Calder, thought he lived here.’

  ‘Really, this place wouldn’t be big enough for all his money,’ said the wife. ‘He must have taken some of his patient’s tablets.’

  He tentatively put the key in the lock; it opened.

  ‘Lawrence you’re back early,’ said Kay, pleased and surprised.

  He popped his head around the door, and into the kitchen.

  ‘I’m cooking roast pork tonight; would you like a starter?’ she asked.

  ‘Please.’

  Whilst Kay put sausage rolls in the microwave, he went to take a look around the mansion. The boat he’d always wanted was parked at the back. He’d enjoyed the money he’d saved on Bastille.

  Orvid and Karin were in the cemetery before the gates closed; they wanted to check the headstones. Orvid had a broad smile on his face.

  ‘Hi buddy,’ shouted Alain.

  ‘Well don’t look surprised,’ said Alain ‘it’s not something you get to see every day.’

  Or rather not see, because Miranda Holt’s headstone had vanished; and her parents’ too.

  ‘Anyone for Chinese?’ asked Verity.

  Chapter Forty Three

  ‘But you were so sure,’ said Zhen.

  ‘Disappointed?’ asked Fu.

  ‘Of course not,’ said Zhen ‘I always thought it was a crazy trick.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Fu forlornly.

  Fu wasn’t sure why he’d changed his mind this morning, and so suddenly. But Orvid Benedict was there, and he knew.

  ‘Besides you don’t need such dangerous theatre, you have the lantern,’ said Zhen.

  Orvid could sense the alarm in Fu’s mind as he hastily looked around the room. He was also drawn to a small water tank in the corner; it had plenty of rocks, and two goldfish.

  ‘You’re becoming paranoid Fu, there’s no else here,’ said Zhen.

  Now Orvid could relate to that.

  ‘The lantern is truly magical,’ said Fu.

  ‘I know, my father gave it to you,’ said Zhen.

  ‘And it was given to him by an old Buddhist monk,’ said Fu.

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘But I have told Heshen I no longer have the lantern,’ said Fu.

  ‘And do you think he believes you?’ asked Zhen.

  A servant knocked on their door, and poked his head around the corner.

  ‘It is Lord Heshen,’ he said.

  ‘Speak of the devil,’ said Fu.

  ‘Fu how are you feeling this morning, it is a glorious day is it not’ said Heshen of the sunshine streaming into Fu’s rooms.

  ‘I’m afraid all is not well,’ said Fu.

  ‘And why not?’

  ‘I have a malady, a malaise which renders me unable to perform,’ said Fu.

  ‘Then it is a great shame you will no longer see the lovely Zhen. Guards take her to the dungeons.’

  Orvid was struggling to keep Fu’s thoughts on board.

  ‘In that case you give me no choice,’ said Fu.

  ‘I do not understand your disappointment Fu, do you fail to see where the power lies in our Kingdom.’

  ‘Not at all noble Heshen that is why I have abdicated my will to yours,’ said Fu.

  Heshen didn’t look impressed.

  ‘But tell me, if the show is a success, will you let us leave?’ asked Fu.

  Heshen paused, but with his trap already laid there was no need; he could promise anything.

  ‘If all goes according plan then everything will be as it should,’ said Heshen, but he didn’t say whose plan.

  ‘I suggest you get some rest Fu,’ said Heshen ‘I would hate to see anything go wrong.’

  And he left.

  ‘I don’t trust him,’ said Zhen.

  ‘In fairness my love we never have.’

  ‘But the trick it is madness,’ said Zhen.

  ‘He gave me no choice Zhen,’ said Fu. ‘Would you sooner rot in a dungeon?

  ‘Sorry my love; I know you would do anything for my happiness.’

  ‘Sorry Alain,’ said Orvid ‘I couldn’t persuade him.’

  Alain looked concerned. So what were they going to tell Hui and Yi; they’d already let them down once, many years ago.

  ‘It’s not over until the final curtain,’ said Orvid trying to be optimistic ‘we still have time.’

  ‘Perhaps, but what do we change now?’ asked Alain.

  Orvid shrugged.

  ‘We’ll have to ask Hui,’ he said.

  It was the only thing they could do, and they were certain he’d take the news with his usual look of resignation.

  ‘With all of his chains, he looks so helpless’ said Bik to Wa.

  The Palace guards had collected Fu’s props, and watched him prepare; there was no chance to check the locks.

  ‘Is it not a look that suits him?’ asked Bik mischievously.

  ‘Indeed it is, and would befit most men,’ replied Wa Yu.

  ‘Oh look, here comes Alain Fontaney the priest setting hearts a flutter,’ said Bik as he walked into Court with Bertrand.

  Bertrand was never one to miss a banquet.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen please take your seats,’ said the toastmaster.

  Bik gave Wa a peck on the cheek; it was a kiss of betrayal, before she disappeared into the moving bodies to take her seat besides the Emperor.

  ‘It is good to see them looking nervous is it not,’ said Heshen to Alain, on observing Fu and Zhen’s countenance.

  ‘And why is that my noble Liege?’

  ‘It indicates a thrilling show is ahead,’ replied Heshen. ‘Who knows it may even rival the time when Fu threw a dagger at your head.’

  ‘Sometimes all a man has is his courage,’ said Alain ‘unless he has an army to fight his battles for him.’

  ‘Well said Alain, I shall tell the Emperor of your philosophy,’ said Heshen, and he went to take his seat.

  ‘Where is our table?’ asked Bertrand.

  ‘Don’t panic my friend I’m sure they have plates set for us,’ said Alain.

  ‘I think we are over there,’ said Alain, acknowledging the wave coming from Heng the head gardener, beside his beautiful wife.

  The noise of the gong reverberated around the room.

  ‘It is time my love,’ whispered Fu to Zhen.

  She swallowed hard; she was more nervous than Fu. Unfortunately Heshen was becoming a regular feature. He got up from his table, and bowed before the Emperor.

  ‘Apologies son of heaven, but I feel for the benefit of your entertainment I must check the rigour of Fu’s locks.’

  Zhen grimaced, but Fu was unperturbed. Heshen carefully inspected each lock that held Fu’s chains in place.

  ‘Your hands Fu,’ said Heshen ‘open them.’

  He found no key, nor would he find a key that fitted he thought.

  ‘I am satisfied,’ he eventually said.

  ‘Do you trust Heshen my Lord?’ Bik asked Chien-lung.

  ‘Like a fly trusts a spider,’ he replied ‘but he does have his uses.’

  Fu nearly fell off the ladder as he waivered his way to the top. He sat nervously on the seat. There was six foot of water behind him, and he would sink like a stone to the bottom. The chains were wrapped so tight he could hardly move. Zhen was right, it was his sternest test, and foolhardy, but he was nothing if not a showman, and he loved the adulation. Fu took one final deep breath, and hoped it wouldn’t be his last. Alain Fontaney said
a quick prayer for him.

  Like a fish caught in a net he twisted and turned, and some of the ladies in court had to look away. Fu tried to orientate himself, and spat out the lock pick towards a corner. Zhen looked on helplessly. Fu was on his back, and trying to locate the key with his arms secured behind his back. Zhen checked the timepiece; he was behind time.

  The lock pick was too far in the corner, and his head kept banging on the inside of the tank. The adrenalin kicked in, and he thought fast. He sat upright, and pushed himself backwards along the floor, agonisingly closer to his freedom. His lungs were burning, and ready to burst, but he had to stay in control. If he panicked he was dead.

  First he undid the wrist locks, then the ankles. He wanted to swim to the top, but the middle weights anchored him down. With almost his last dying breath he loosened the chains, and flailed to the top, breathless.

  The room was full of rapturous applause, and all but Heshen were on their feet. He looked murderously at Lei Weng, whose turn it was to gulp for air.

  Zhen helped her lover down with tears in her eyes.

  ‘Truly a once in a lifetime trick,’ gasped Fu.

  Alain felt someone touch him on the back. It was the gentleman tourist, Michel Girard, from France.

  ‘When I publish this all of France will be talking of The Great Fu Chung Soo,’ he said.

  ‘He will be honoured,’ said Alain.

  ‘You must bring him to France Alain,’ said Michel.

  ‘Perhaps one day I will.’

  ‘Could you arrange a meeting Alain, I would love to speak to Fu. He does speak French doesn’t he?’

  ‘I have taught him a little, but I can interpret,’ said Alain.

  ‘Excellent, and Alain the sooner the better, I set sail in less than a week. And Alain, should Fu need an agent in France I would be honoured; I have excellent connections,’ said Michel.

  They searched out each other’s eyes, and Alain stood and bowed to his friend Fu, in honour of his outstanding performance.

  Heshen glowered as he said ‘the Emperor wishes to speak with you after the banquet.’

  ‘I would be honoured,’ said Fu.

  ‘No need for protocol Fu,’ said the Emperor as Fu dropped to his knees, ready to tap his forehead on the floor. ‘Otherwise we will never get the chance to speak: Quite an impressive trick Fu.’