by Fran Baker
Kai’s visit to the newsroom last Friday had created a real stir. With excuses ranging from feeble to fairly plausible, every female in the office had stopped at Anne’s desk long enough to finagle a meeting with the handsome magnate, who had introduced himself as Edward Payton. And while the men were less obvious in their approach, they were certainly no less impressed. All of them had managed a handshake with the low-profile legend.
Anne hurried out of the quiet building into the brake-squealing, rush-hour reveille of a Hong Kong business day. When she spotted Kai’s car idling at the curb she ran over and climbed in the passenger side.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” she apologized.
“It depends on your perspective.” Kai leaned over and kissed her, then smiled. “The truck driver who is waiting behind me for this parking space thought you were never going to appear.”
As if to confirm Kai’s observation, the truck driver leaned on his horn. Anne laughed, but the impatient blast struck a kindred chord inside her. Only when the Mercedes was finally snaking in and out of traffic toward the cross-harbor tunnel did she begin to relax.
“I hope you’re not a victim of claustrophobia,” Kai teased her as they joined the line of cars inching toward the underwater highway.
“Of course not,” she assured him. Anne glanced up from the notes she was reviewing in a time-saving effort to refresh her memory. “I don’t have any phobias.”
“Not even about love?” Kai’s sly gaze coincided with their entrance into the tunnel.
Stymied for a reply, Anne stared straight ahead, alternately blessing the semidarkness that concealed her flaming cheeks and cursing Kai’s knack for hitting her sore spot. She felt the car accelerate as they neared the exit and grasped the first conversational straw that occurred to her.
“Dick suggested that I snap some pictures today.” Anne reached into the tote bag for her camera. “One of the major newsmagazines wants to condense the entire series into an article.” She lifted the camera to her eye, focused on the toothless old candy floss man spinning pink sugar swirls for a pack of excited children, and snapped the shutter release.
She turned then and looked at Kai. Succumbing to impulse, Anne adjusted her light and distance meters, aimed and took several candid shots of his bold profile silhouetted against the summer sky. It rocked her to realize that if her promotion to Athens became a reality these pictures might be her only tangible evidence of their time together. A current of sadness undercut the simple, pleasurable promise of the day. She blinked quickly, veiling her emotion behind fluttering eyelashes.
Kai took a right onto Nathan Road, then a left onto a narrow side street. When he parked in front of a small rattan shop, Anne frowned in confusion.
“Why are we stopping here?” She watched a group of saffron-robed monks, followed by their devotees, climb the marble steps of a Buddhist temple. The pungent smoke of lighted incense sticks wafted out of the circular tiled building, and a gong bid the faithful welcome.
“Because you have some shopping to do,” Kai answered. He quirked an amused eyebrow as he stepped out of the car before Anne could quiz him any further.
“But I don’t need anything!” Grumbling under her breath, but intrigued by this mysterious side trip, Anne climbed out of the car and followed him along the sidewalk.
Kai turned and disappeared into what seemed to be a dressmaker’s shop. More bewildered than ever, Anne studied the buttons, zippers and spools of thread displayed in the window as she tagged along behind him. The middle-aged woman who greeted them obviously knew Kai, because she called him by name before she bowed and left the room. Anne smiled in polite confusion when the woman reappeared with a lovely dress that she draped over the counter.
“It’s beautiful,” Anne murmured as she rubbed the peach-colored, shadow-striped silk between her fingers. Her inquiring gaze slid to Kai. “Does she want me to buy it?”
“She wants you to try it on and tell her whether you approve of her work,” he replied quietly.
Anne knew she didn’t have much choice when the woman held open the canvas curtains and led the way. After she had slipped out of her dolman-sleeved, terry jumpsuit and into the closely fitted cheong-sam, Anne modeled it for Kai.
“Now what do I do?” she whispered to Kai when she had complimented the woman on her handiwork. Anne pirouetted in front of the triple mirror, admiring without vanity the way the clinging dress showed off her slim figure and long legs to advantage. And judging from the wicked gleam in Kai’s lingering gaze, he agreed.
“Do you want to wear it or should she wrap it for you?” he asked.
Anne couldn’t quite believe it when he counted out the bills and laid them in the seamstress’s outstretched palm. “You had this made for me,” she said, laughing with happy surprise. “But how did she know my size?”
“I told her,” he answered dryly, his dark gaze sweeping over the curves that were outlined to provocative perfection by the sheer material. His eyebrow lifted in amusement at Anne’s embarrassed flush.
“I’ll change so she can wrap it.” Anne excused herself and hurried back to the cramped dressing room.
When they were outside again Anne thanked him for the lovely present.
“One more stop,” he said, steering her into another shop.
Anne didn’t know whether to be insulted or pleased by his second gift—a Mongolian steamboat.
“This is the cooking utensil used for Cantonese and Northern dishes,” Kai explained, opening the box and lifting out the vessel for her inspection. “You place hot coals in the bottom. The heat rises through the center chimney, which boils the water or broth in this little tank. Then you steam your meat or vegetables, which takes only a few seconds.”
“You are trying to reform me,” Anne said with a rueful glance at his carefully innocent expression.
On their way back to the car Anne and Kai took a shortcut through a tiny park. They stopped and slaked their thirst with a cooling punch made of several fresh fruit juices. A Hakka woman dressed in the traditional black sam-foo tunic and trousers herded three children away from the busy street. When one impish little boy eluded his mother’s grasp and turned a somersault on the grassy knoll, Anne and Kai exchanged warm smiles. Words would have been superfluous.
They loaded Anne’s packages into the car and Kai drove toward the outskirts of Kowloon. Sunlight glinted off the hood of the black Mercedes as he guided it in a northwesterly direction along the seacoast highway.
“We will see the factories in Tsuen Wan first,” he explained. “That’s where our major exports, such as clothing, radios and plastic items, are produced.”
“Do you think I'll actually have an opportunity to interview some of the refugees?” she asked.
Kai’s momentary hesitation before he nodded told Anne that he still wasn’t reconciled to her reasons for this trip. No matter, she was determined to make the most of her single exposure to the refugees in their daily routines.
“This is the route I take when I drive to my home in the New Territories,” Kai said. “The next time I go I’ll take you.”
“I’d like that.” Anne accepted his invitation without hesitation. One of the older articles she had read while researching Edward Payton had referred to his country estate, and it certainly sounded like an interesting place to visit.
Most of the manufacturing plants in Tsuen Wan were one or two story buildings. Kai parked the car in a lot near a textile mill when Anne spotted several groups of women chatting and drinking sodas while taking a break in the small industrial park located behind the mill.
“What a hard life they must lead.” Anne clucked her tongue in sympathy as they approached the park on foot.
“Why would you say something like that?” Kai seemed genuinely baffled by her observation.
“Because they’re so young.” She waved her hand for emphasis. “Not one of them looks to be over twenty-five, yet all of them have gray hair.” She checked th
e light and distance meters on her camera, preparing for some close-ups of this tragedy.
Kai stopped in mid-stride and his laughter rang out loud and clear. Astonished by his reaction, Anne stopped, too.
“Their hair only appears to be gray, Anne,” he admonished with a smile. “As you get closer you will see that it’s nothing more than loose cotton that has settled on their black hair.”
Undaunted, Anne resumed her pace. “If there’s that much cotton floating around in the work area, then it’s bound to be a health hazard,” she asserted briskly.
“You disappoint me, Anne.” Kai grabbed her arm in his viselike grip and spun her around to face him.
“How so?” She tried to keep a skeptical tone, but she sensed she was treading on dangerous ground.
“In your hurry to paint a grim picture of the Hong Kong industrial scene and the misfortunes of the refugees you have failed to gather the facts.” His features were hard with anger.
“What is that supposed to mean?” she challenged, more hurt by his accusation than she dared acknowledge.
“Look closely at those women, Anne,” he commanded. She turned her head obediently. “Every one of them is wearing a breathing mask around her neck They have pulled them down while they take a break, but once they return to the building they’ll put them over their faces again to protect their lungs.” His words were like spears, relentlessly piercing her. “Every phase of the process is under strict control, and anyone who violates the regulations is fired.”
Anne paled as she lowered her head. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, shaken by her own negligence. “I’ve never jumped the gun like that before. It just looked so cut and dried.”
“Your ethics are more important than any headline.” Kai drew her into his embrace and his breath was warm against her cheek. “All I ask is that you maintain the same standards that I admired before we met.”
“I will,” she promised, reaffirming his faith with her forceful whisper. “I swear I will.”
Arm in arm, they walked away from the park. In a sobering moment of doubt Anne wondered whether she was capable of writing the shocking exposé that UNA was urging her to produce. She decided right then and there that she would conclude the editorial series with the facts as she saw them, not as someone else wanted her to see them. If that placed her job or her promotion in jeopardy, then so be it.
As they strolled toward the residential area, Kai pointed out the different manufacturing plants and briefly sketched the history of each one. The streets were soon bordered by the multistory concrete buildings that housed thousands upon thousands of refugees, and Anne snapped a few pictures.
“Are those flagpoles?” she asked, indicating the bamboo poles that projected from the balconies of the buildings.
“That’s the Chinese version of a clothesline,” Kai answered, a smile creasing his handsome face.
Anne laughed and snapped a photo when she spotted one festooned with laundry drying in the breeze. As they neared a small restaurant Kai suggested they have a late lunch. Anne agreed and they entered the tiny establishment, sitting down at one of the few tables. After Kai placed their order with the gray-clad waiter he excused himself to use the telephone so he could check in with his office.
While she waited for their food Anne looked around in idle curiosity. A nervous young woman at another table seemed to be expecting someone to join her.
Anne watched, playing a mental guessing game to pass the time. Was the girl waiting for her boyfriend? Perhaps they’d had an argument and were going to discuss their differences over a cup of hot tea. Or maybe— At that moment a heavyset man burst through the swinging doors, angrily berating the young woman and gesturing toward the door that led outside. The girl retained her stoic expression, but a tear slid down her cheek. Although Anne didn’t understand a single word the man was saying, she recognized verbal abuse when she heard it The girl stood up, and on furious impulse Anne did, too.
“No!” Kai intervened with a harsh command, stepping between the young woman and the wrathful man. A rapid-fire exchange took place among the three of them before Kai escorted the girl to the table he and Anne were sharing.
The waiter set plates of steaming rice and vegetables on the table, but Anne pushed them away. She sensed a story here and her appetite had suddenly vanished. “Do you suppose she speaks English?” The question was directed to Kai, but the young woman answered first.
“Yes, I do,” she asserted. “I learned it at school.”
Anne’s heart did a flip-flop and it was all she could do to contain her mounting excitement This might be the conclusion to her series!
“My name is Anne Hunter.” She introduced herself with a smile. “I’m a reporter for a news agency and I wonder if you have a few minutes to answer some questions for me.”
The girl hesitated a minute, glancing around timidly as if she expected the angry man to reappear and order her out. Kai murmured what sounded like comforting words, but Anne couldn’t be certain because he spoke in a Chinese dialect.
“Yes,” the girl finally agreed. A tentative smile curved her lips and Anne realized just how pretty the young woman really was. “I am Mailin Li and I thank both of you for coming to my rescue.” Another tear slipped down Mailin’s cheek. “It was my fondest hope that the owner of this restaurant would hire me, but he did not need anyone.” That she didn’t seem to harbor a grudge about her maltreatment was amazing.
Ignoring Kai’s stony expression, Anne whipped out her note pad and pen. “Why don’t you sit down and eat with us, Mailin?” she invited. “We’ve ordered enough food to feed an army, and neither one of us would be able to finish it.”
Innately shy, Mailin nevertheless ate with the appetite of someone near starvation. Between bites she told Anne of the terrible plight of her family, newly emigrated and unable to find work of any kind. She referred to her parents and younger brothers quite frequently and lovingly, and Anne asked if she could meet them.
“They do not speak English,” Mailin qualified, glancing up from a generous second helping to see if this made any difference to Anne. “And all of them are scared of strangers.”
Anne convinced Mailin that none of this bothered her, that she’d handled similar situations before, and they were soon walking up the three flights of stairs to the cramped but immaculate apartment where the Li family lived.
Existed would have been a better word. The situation was the most pitiful that Anne had ever encountered. Two of Mailin’s brothers were ill, lying on pallets in the one large room. Her mother was a petite woman who looked exhausted and close to a total collapse, and her father walked with a defeated slump. Despite the obvious poverty of the family Mrs. Li insisted on making tea for Mailin’s guests.
Kai’s impassive resignation bordered on rudeness. He didn’t interfere or interrupt while Anne quizzed Mailin at length about the way she had been treated by the industrial community. He drank the weak tea from the cracked cup and ate the stale cake, but his saturnine expression grated on Anne’s nerves. After tea they rose to leave and Anne gave Mailin one of her business cards.
“Call me at the office tomorrow,” she urged the grateful girl. “Maybe I can help you find a job.”
Kai was halfway to the car by the time Anne caught up with him. Excited at having collected so much new material, she squeezed his hand and silently forgave him his attitude. Her elation, though, was short-lived.
“Who is exploiting the refugees now?” he mocked when they were heading toward Kowloon. His dark gaze collided briefly with Anne’s shocked expression before he turned his attention back to the road.
She looked at him with a bewildered frown. “I don’t follow your reasoning.”
“Why is it right when UNA uses these people to boost sales, but wrong when industry takes advantage of their talents and availability?” he taunted.
“That sounds exactly like something that Edward Payton, the British merchant would say,” she snapped. Incensed, her
stomach churning, Anne looked out the window. The heavy gray clouds spoiling the sunset matched her stormy mood. Her head swiveled and she lashed out again. “How would you feel if it was your family living in that tiny apartment, starving to death and unable to find a job?”
“That’s a rather melodramatic interpretation of what we saw,” Kai replied, smoothly evading the emotional nature of her question. “Chances are excellent that all of them will be gainfully employed before the month is out, if they keep trying. In the meantime, they’re living in clean, cheap housing, and I’m certain they have enough money saved so that none of them will starve.”
“You saw how that man at the restaurant treated Mailin,” she retorted. Anne was so angry that she was on the verge of tears. “It was barbaric. And so is your attitude.”
“They survived worse in their homeland,” he said in a quiet tone that ignored her accusation. “Hong Kong has shielded millions of refugees through the years. The Li family will survive, as the others have. Perhaps they will even prosper.”
Recognizing the futility of further argument, Anne subsided into a gloomy contemplation of the day’s events. Perfunctory remarks were the only exchange between them the rest of the way. The strained atmosphere had an ominous, unnerving quality, and it seemed forever before they stopped in front of her apartment building.
“I’m leaving tomorrow morning to attend a series of Diamond Conventions in South Africa,” Kai announced.
“Fine,” she snapped, trying to mask her surprise at his unexpected news with anger.
When he reached over and lightly stroked the curve of her cheek, Anne stiffened. Confused, she eluded his arms and began to gather up her belongings. She felt an empty, aching regret that his departure followed on the heels of their bitter words. But with a strangely relieved certainty, she also realized that both of them would probably benefit from some time alone.