by Graeme Hall
‘Is a wedding on the cards? I didn’t realise. Many congratulations, but if you think that’s the answer you’re mistaken. Get married and Sam won’t get a visa either.’
‘And in the meantime I should be careful when crossing the road in Wan Chai,’ said Emma bitterly.
‘Don’t be so melodramatic. Nothing’s going to happen to you unless you’re really stupid.’ Liang-bao looked at his watch. ‘I should be going, I’m meeting Alice from work and you know what she’s like if you’re late.’ Liang-bao smiled and stood. ‘Think about what I’ve said, Emma.’
When Liang-bao had left the café Emma took out her earpiece and turned it off.
‘I’ll think about what you said alright,’ she said to herself with a smile.
Chapter 25
‘Well that’s pretty incriminating,’ said Susan. Emma had finished playing the tape of her conversation with Liang-bao. ‘And he didn’t suspect anything?’
‘Nothing at all. He just thought it was my hearing aid. Thanks to you for telling me about the Golden Arcade. I’d never been before. It’s amazing the things you can get there.’
It was late afternoon and Emma had asked Susan to come round.
‘So when will Sam be home?’
‘I’m not sure – I know he’s busy at the moment.’
‘Have you told him what you know about Peter’s death?’
‘No, well some of the early stuff, that it wasn’t the guy who was jailed. But I haven’t told him about the connection to his client. I just don’t know how to or even if I should.’
‘So what are you going to do?’ Susan asked. The air-conditioned cool of the Hong Kong apartment was a different world from that night in Vang Vieng when Emma had first told her about her brother. ‘I hate to say it, but Liang-bao is probably right. Nobody is going to be interested in reopening a hit-and-run. Bright Talk is more interesting, though. Are you really not going to tell Sam?’
‘I don’t know, I really don’t know. It could really screw up his career. I don’t know how I can do that to him.’
Susan wondered how far she could push Emma. It was frustrating to be so close to finding out what the PLA was doing in Hong Kong. She could almost smell it. What she wouldn’t give to get hold of a copy of Sam’s Bright Talk papers. Would she be willing to give up a friendship, albeit an old one that had sort of died anyway?
‘Do you think Sam would get you a copy of the Bright Talk file?’
‘A copy of the file? I don’t know … What would I do with that? Liang-bao made it very clear what would happen if I went to the authorities with what I know. You heard what he said on the tape.’
‘Emma, I’ve not been completely honest with you, and given everything you’ve been through I think you deserve better than that.’ Susan had decided that the prize was worth taking a chance on. Not that she had any intention of being completely honest. ‘When I first got in touch with you it was simply to meet up again and chat about old times. Nothing more than that. I didn’t even know you were in Hong Kong, and finding you here was a really nice bonus—’
‘How did you know I was here?’ Emma interrupted. Susan had been surprised that Emma hadn’t asked that question when they’d got together a few days before.
‘I was wondering when you would ask that. Let’s just say your name cropped up in a different context. But I didn’t even know if it was the same Emma Janssen.’
‘But …’
‘Please, Emma, don’t ask me more. Anyway, like I said, I just wanted to see you again for old time’s sake. But then when we met up, and you told me what you’d discovered about Peter’s death, about the Gao brothers and that they were your boyfriend’s client, I couldn’t believe my luck.’
‘Your luck? What are you talking about, Susan?’
‘Emma, please don’t ask how I know this, just trust me, but Gao Shu-ling is an officer in the People’s Liberation Army. I don’t know about Gao Zhihua but it wouldn’t surprise me if he was as well. You know yourself that they are both interested in telecoms. What you don’t know is that they are working with a university in Shanghai to develop software that can be preloaded on mobile phones that they’ll be able to use to eavesdrop on people. That’s what Bright Talk is all about.’ Susan paused to let Emma digest this before continuing. She tried to read Emma’s face to see how this was being received but couldn’t be sure. Having gone this far Susan didn’t have much of an option but to go on. ‘The people I work for would love to have evidence of what Bright Talk is doing, how it’s structured, who is involved with it. All the stuff that will be in Sam’s file.’ Susan stopped again and waited while Emma took this in.
‘The people you work for?’ asked Emma. ‘You work for a telecoms company?’
‘I should just say yes. That would be the easiest answer, but it would be a lie and I don’t want to lie to you. Emma, please don’t ask me questions I can’t answer.’ Susan thought that she seemed to be spending all her time telling people not to ask her things. ‘I just need you to trust me.’ Susan played her last card. ‘With that information, I can use it against the Gao brothers. Maybe Liang-bao as well. At the very least I can cause major embarrassment, at best we might even be able to stop Bright Talk completely.’
Susan watched while Emma was silent in response for a while. When Emma finally spoke Susan was taken aback by the bitter tone of voice.
‘You’re no better than Liang-bao, are you? Just using me the same way he’s been using Alice.’ Emma moved away from Susan and stood, staring out of the window.
Yes and no, thought Susan. She couldn’t deny that she needed Emma’s help, and Sam’s, but she was on the side of the angels, wasn’t she? Didn’t that make a difference?
‘Emma, all I can say is that I’m one of the good guys, and I can help you at the same time. It’s not a one-way thing.’
There was another long pause filled by the erratic hum of the air-con unit and traffic on the main road. From somewhere beyond the apartment there was the sound of a mother scolding a child and a door slamming. Susan knew that Emma was on the edge and could go either way. She was scared to say anything in case it pushed Emma in the wrong direction. Finally, after what to Susan seemed an age, Emma spoke.
‘If I get what you want, do you think you can keep Sam out of it? I mean, will anybody be able to work out that the information came from Sam?’
‘I don’t know. I certainly don’t need to tell anyone.’ Susan winced inwardly. Sometimes she was shocked at how easily she could lie to her friends. She’d have to tell her superiors where it came from if they were to believe in the information she gave them. ‘But one day when the Chinese realise that we have this information – and they will eventually – they’ll know that there are only a limited number of people it could have come from and Sam would be one of those. Not the only one, I mean it could be anyone at Sam’s firm, or even someone within Bright Talk, but given that he knows you, and since … well, you know what I mean. He probably would be their first guess.’ Susan didn’t mention the outside chance that she might have been followed to Sam and Emma’s place. She didn’t think she had been, she’d taken care, but she couldn’t see what good would have been done by raising the possibility.
‘Perhaps you’d better leave before Sam gets back. I don’t see how the three of us can have a simple dinner together after what you’ve said. I don’t think I can anyway. I’ll make an excuse for you, Sam won’t mind.’
‘Fair enough.’ Susan started to leave, feeling somewhat deflated. She didn’t know what more she could have done.
‘How long will be you be in Hong Kong for?’ asked Emma.
‘Two days. I’ve almost run out of money so I really have to go back to the States.’
‘Can I get in touch with you?’
‘I’ve got a better idea. Let me borrow a pen and paper and I’ll give you my parents’ address in Oakland. If you decide to help, you can write to me there, or even just send anything by post.’
***<
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That night Emma again found herself sitting on the sofa watching the ships moored in the harbour. She was starting to make a habit of spending the nights there. She wondered if perhaps she should keep a spare pillow and duvet to hand. Sam had come home a little later than expected. It had obviously been a long hard day and he wasn’t remotely bothered that Emma’s old friend hadn’t stayed for dinner. They’d listened to a little jazz, shared a glass or two of wine and generally spent the evening in quiet intimacy. Emma had no idea whether she could ask him to risk his career and future to help her. She didn’t even know how much she could trust Susan. She was wary of everybody now.
She also hadn’t forgotten what Liang-bao had said. She remembered his comments about Sam. What had Sam been involved with in London? She didn’t dare ask but it was obviously something they were prepared to hold over him if he got out of line. Liang-bao had said there was no chance that she would get a visa. Perhaps it was an idle threat. Did he or the people that he reported to really have that power? She could stay and try, see what happened, but she feared that Liang-bao was probably right. She’d stirred up too many things. Annoyed too many people. She remembered what Brian Lo had told her in Sydney. All of which meant that Sam would have to choose between her and his career no matter what she did about Susan. Would he choose her over partnership? She hoped so – surely he would? – but she wasn’t certain. But more than that, it was still early days between them and who knew where their relationship would go. She didn’t want to pressure him into leaving for her sake. If she did, and Sam left Hong Kong for her, then if it didn’t work out he’d hate her for it later. No. If Sam was to leave Hong Kong to be with her, then it had to be his own free choice.
It was starting to get light when Emma returned to bed and Sam woke sleepily.
‘Where’ve you been?’ he asked.
‘Just sitting watching the harbour.’
‘Come here.’
Emma responded to his gentle embraces. He kissed her bad ear as if to make it better. They made love slowly and tenderly as the sun rose.
***
It was a week later that Emma stole the Bright Talk papers. It had been a week of indecision and uncertainty. A week spent hiking on her own in the New Territories, trying to find some space to think things through. She turned down an invite to have lunch with Alice. Emma had no idea what she could say to her or even if it was safe to talk to her. Taking the papers herself wasn’t what she had planned to do, but was something that she did almost without thinking when the opportunity arose.
In the end it was so ludicrously simple that when she thought about it later she concluded that the gods must have wanted her to have the file. It was lunchtime and she was in Sam’s office. They were supposed to be getting something to eat and she was waiting for him to get ready to leave. Everything conspired to make it easy for her: she had a larger bag with her than usual because she was planning on going shopping in the afternoon, and Sam’s secretary had already gone out for lunch. When Sam went to the toilet she simply took the file from the filing cabinet. After lunch she went to a photocopy shop and then returned to Sam’s office on the pretence of having mislaid her keys. It was a trivial matter to leave the file on top of a pile when no one was watching. There was an outside chance, of course, that somebody might have wanted to see it in the few hours that it was missing, but she had worked in enough offices over the years to know how often files went walkabout for no obvious reason.
What she was going to do with the file she still didn’t know.
***
Although she didn’t recognise it to begin with, in time Emma realised that she was saying goodbye to Hong Kong and the life she had made there. Without doing it consciously she was revisiting all the places that meant something to her. They all played a part in the story of her time in Hong Kong.
There was the casual restaurant on the beach at Deep Water Bay. A friend had taken her there on one of her first weekends in Hong Kong. There were seven of them that night sharing chilli squid and prawns. The sound of the waves lapping on the shore was only disturbed when two policemen came running through the restaurant chasing a burglar who had been trying his luck on one of the nearby apartment blocks. ‘Probably an II’ one of the diners said. Only later did Emma discover that – fairly or unfairly – illegal immigrants were blamed for most things that needed a scapegoat.
One day she took the ferry to Cheung Chau and lay sunbathing on Tung Wan beach. It was mid-week so the beach was quiet and she had it mostly to herself. She enjoyed the warmth of the sun even if she went nowhere near the water. Her floppy sunhat covering her face, sand getting between her toes, her memory wandered back to family holidays in Cornwall when she would play with Peter building the most elaborate sandcastles with moats and turrets. After spending a couple of hours on the beach, she sat at a simple café with an iced tea from where she could see Hong Kong Island and Pokfulam. If she looked closely Emma could just about make out Sam’s apartment building. She no longer thought of it as theirs, something they shared. It was his again. He’d be at work anyway but she wondered what he was doing. Was he working for Bright Talk today? Was he meeting one of the Gao brothers?
She dug out her hiking boots and went back to some of her favourite trails. She climbed the path up to the top of Pat Sin Leng. She remembered when she’d dragged Sam along with her. She’d known then that they would get together. She had smiled to herself when she’d seen him struggle up the hills. It was obvious how little hill-walking he did and how much he was doing it only to be with her. She had felt his eyes on her body even when she was striding ahead. She remembered how he had looked at her when they sat soaking wet in the restaurant; how a warmth had filled her when he looked away embarrassed. She wished she could go back to those simple days.
She walked the streets of Western District. She wandered along Queen’s Road West close to where she had lived. There were shops that she found continually fascinating: the one that sold nothing but bamboo steamers, the bakery that made pastries in the shape of fish, the Chinese medicine shops with roots in glass jars and wooden drawers full of powders. Sometimes Emma was never quite sure whether you were supposed to drink the medicines they prepared or use them as an ointment. There was the shop that sold simple rice bowls, next to a shop that stocked every type of bucket and brush you could imagine. Her favourite shops of all were those selling paper funeral totems. Everything from sports cars and paper money to air-conditioners, all made of paper ready to be burnt to accompany the departed into the afterlife. She sat in the McDonald’s below her first apartment. That was the first proper home that she had all to herself. Her place and her place alone. There was an old Chinese man who lived on the floor below her. She never knew his name or understood a word he said, but he always smiled when they passed on the stairs.
She went up to the Peak and escaped from the tourists who were hanging around the observation point. Instead she walked to where she knew there was a much better view. From there she could see the ferries going to and from Macau. Easter in Macau and the first time that she and Sam had slept together. His shyness, his gentleness. Looking in another direction she could see the extension to the Convention Centre where the handover ceremony had taken place. Somewhere nearby in Causeway Bay, somewhere in the warren of streets, was the restaurant where they had gone that evening.
And also somewhere down there was where Peter had been killed. And, of course, she also went to the junction, where only a few months ago she had laid flowers on the anniversary of his death. So much had changed since that day. The flowers were long gone, but to her surprise there was a little piece of ribbon still tied to the drainpipe, torn and faded but still recognisable as the one she had used. She untied the fragment and put it safely in her pocket. This was when Liang-bao’s words came back to her: ‘We all have choices.’ Of course he was right, though it was ironic that he of all people would be the one helping her to understand what she had to do.
The tri
gger had been Sam’s partnership. He had been so excited, so thrilled. Emma was pleased for him – of course she was – but now it felt impossible to tell him. She had put on a mask for him, hidden her feelings and shared in his happiness when they celebrated the news. They’d opened a bottle of champagne and gone out to dinner. But inside, beneath the surface smiles and gaiety, Emma had made her decision, and she knew there was nothing to be gained by delaying. She had been on borrowed time ever since she heard that Chan Wah Man had been released from prison. As Peter would say, she needed to end it now. She needed to let it go. The next day she mailed the copy of the Bright Talk file, along with the recording of Liang-bao, to an address in Oakland. She felt a sense of physical release as the thick envelope slipped from her hand into the mailbox with its anachronistic crown and E II R lettering.
Emma had made her choice. Committed now to her course of action, she called into the travel agent that she normally used.
‘I’d like to buy a ticket to London, please.’
‘Return, I assume?’
‘No. One-way.’
There was another letter that she had to write. A letter to Sam that she would post to him when she got back to the UK. She sat down at their dining table one morning when he was at work. She expected it to be a difficult letter to write, but once she had started telling him everything, telling him all that she had discovered, why she was doing what she was going to do, seeking his forgiveness and understanding, she found that the words came easily. She didn’t want to type the letter, though – it needed to be handwritten – and by the end her wrist was aching. She hoped that it would speak to him not only through the meaning of the words but through the curls and lines. She hoped that her heart and love would cry out to him from the paper.
Emma had made her choice and now she would have to wait for Sam to make his.
Epilogue
Cornwall, Easter 1974
Peter was first to react to the scream.