“I have to have dinner at home,” she said. “Martin’s home tonight so I haven’t much time.”
“Or let’s go up to the Peak and look at the stars.”
“Are you even listening to me?” she said, exasperated. “I don’t know that I even have time to go to your flat today.”
“Whatever you want, darling,” he said. “I’ll just drive you home, then, and you can go fix Martin a delicious meal.”
“Stop the car,” she said.
He drove up onto the side of the road and turned off the car.
“As directed,” he said.
“Why do you,” she said, suddenly furious. “You, you always do whatever I say to do, and then… it never seems like you’re doing anything but what you want to do.”
He looked at her with amusement.
“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” he said.
“You do,” she said. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, but you’re pretending… Oh, never mind.” She raised her hands in surrender.
“Just take me home,” she said. “You’ve ruined it.”
There had been times when Claire felt that she could become a different person. She sensed it in herself, when someone made a comment at dinner, and she thought of the perfect, acerbic reply, or something even racy, and she felt her mouth opening, her lungs taking in air so that she could then push out the words, but they never came out. She swallowed her thought, and the person she could have become sank down again, weighted by the Claire that was already too evident in the world. She sensed it when she held a glass at a cocktail party and suddenly felt the urge to crush it in her hand. She never did. That hidden person had ballooned up and deflated so often, the elasticity of her possibility diminished over time.
But then came Will. She could say to him all the things she thought, as long as it didn’t have anything to do with them, and he didn’t find any of it surprising. He didn’t have an idea of what she should be like. She was a new person-one who could have an affair, one who could be ribald, or sarcastic, or clever, and he was never surprised. She was out of context with him. She was a new person. Sometimes she felt that she was more in love with that new person she could be, that this affair was an affair with a new Claire, and that Will was just the enabler.
December 1941
THE HOLIDAYS are coming. Despite the rumblings of war, Hong Kong decks itself out with Christmas lights and decorations. Lane Crawford, store of a million gifts, advertises its genuine English crystal as the perfect present, costume parties are planned, the Drama Club puts on “Tea for Three.” The air is crisp, the moisture sucked out by the cool, and people walk briskly on the streets. The Wongs, a famous merchant family, are having a Grand Diamond Jubilee Party at the Gripps to celebrate their sixtieth anniversary.
“The new governor’s coming, that Young fellow,” Trudy says. “And the governor of Macau, who’s a great friend of father’s. I’ve three new dresses arriving today! A yellow silk chiffon to die for! And a gray crêpe de chine, so elegant. Do you mind if I go with Dommie instead of you? You hate these things anyway, don’t you? ”
Will shrugs. “Fine,” he says. “Doesn’t matter.”
Her eyes narrow.
“Nothing does ever bother you, does it?” she says. “I used to like that but now I’m not so sure. Well, anyways, my father gave me something today. Something very special.”
She motions him into her bedroom.
“He says he was going to give it to my mother for their tenth anniversary, but then, you k now…” Her voice trails off. Trudy has always been quite unsentimental about her mother’s disappearance, but today, there’s something caught in her voice.
“Darling Trudy,” he says, and pulls her near.
“No, I’m going to show you something,” she says. “No time for hanky-panky.” She opens a drawer and pulls out a small black velvet box.
“Will you marry me?” she says jokingly as she opens the box and thrusts it toward him.
Inside is an enormous emerald. Will almost can’t see the ring behind it. It glows and glows.
“Smokes,” he says. “That’s quite a stone.”
“I love emeralds, although I should love jade, being Chinese,” Trudy says. “Emeralds are so beautiful and so very fragile. Jade is so, hard. If I knocked this against a table-you know how clumsy I am-it might break. They’re not durable like diamonds.” She plucks the ring out of the box and then suddenly throws it up in the air. Will’s heart leaps inside him like a small bird, and he wildly grabs for the jewel, catching it on its way down. He stares at the green gem in his hand, blood coursing wildly. It nestles in his palm like a cold insect.
“I knew you’d catch it,” Trudy says dispassionately. “That’s the best thing about you. You’re… not dependable, exactly, but good in a fix, I suppose.”
Will hands the ring back to Trudy, angry, and watches as she slips it on her slim finger.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she says. “It’s the nicest thing I own.”
He walks out of the room.
On Saturday, there is another party, the Tin Hat Ball, to raise 160,000 pounds so that the people of Hong Kong can present a bomber squadron to England. Trudy begs him to go with her as, at the last one, the only dashing men were Americans and that “wasn’t right.” “You are fickle,” he says, but she ignores him.
In the ballroom of the Peninsula, Trudy is much in demand, as usual. She is claimed three times in a row by a Canadian major. Will is at the Long Bar having a drink, talking idly to Angeline Biddle, when Trudy comes up behind him and interlocks her fingers in front of his eyes.
“Did you miss me?” she says.
“You were gone?” he asks. He knows how to talk to her.
“What are you drinking? ” Trudy asks Angeline.
“Ox’s Blood,” she says. “It’s champagne mixed with sparkling burgundy and maybe some brandy.”
“Sounds dreadful,” Trudy says, seizing Will’s whiskey instead. She sips at it. “Don’t the Canadians have the funniest names for their teams?”
“Regiments, Trudy,” he corrects.
“What are they, the Royal Guns or something? ” says Angeline.
“No, they’re the Royal Rifles and the Winnipeg Grenadiers. They’ve just come from Newfoundland to help protect us. They love Hong Kong.”
“I’ll bet they do,” he says. “I’m sure it seems like heaven.”
She pouts.
“You’re not going to be all dull and jealous, are you?” She adjusts the straps of her dress, distracted. “Anyway, I’m spoken for the next few dances. Angeline, you’ll take care of my Will, won’t you? ”
Angeline and Will look at each other and shrug.
“Of course, darling,” Angeline says.
As soon as Trudy leaves, they drift away from each other. Will finds Angus Enderby leaning against a wall. Trudy’s cousin, Dominick, wanders by, gives them a curt nod.
“Strange fellow, that,” says Angus. “Can’t figure him out.”
“Trudy says he’s a girl.”
“Something more than that, though. Less innocent.” He pauses. “You know there are Fifth Columnists infiltrating. They’re supporting that Wong Chang Wai chap, who the Japanese installed in China. I’ve heard Dominick has been seen with a lot of that crowd. And Victor Chen, of course, thick as thieves with whoever can help him. Rumor has it that he had the Japanese consulate over for dinner last week. Very hush-hush. Better watch himself. That’s a dangerous game.”
“He’s a survivor.”
“Yes.” Angus shrugs. “Can’t believe the war effort’s been turned into a party. The new governor’s a fool for coming.”
A stout woman is at the bar, with a thinner lady, both sipping whiskey, watching the dancing impassively.
“Do you know Edwina Storch?” Angus asks Will, nodding toward the two.