It seemed initially that Nina’s business had been going welclass="underline" the first print run had been sold out, and she had signed several contracts for advertising. She had told the artists to place the pretty girls in the center of her new posters, the calendars at the bottom, and the adverts with images of lavender soap, combs, and tooth powder in the corners.
Everything had been ready for printing, but the Jesuits had delayed sending Nina’s order to the printing shop. It was paid for out of the debt they owed her, and other cash-paying clients were a greater priority. Meanwhile, having found out that calendars with Chinese girls were proving very popular, other publishing houses proceeded to flood the market with similar products.
“I doubt Miss Nina will manage to keep her head above water,” Binbin confided to Daniel. “Recently, she hasn’t been capable of doing anything. She’s been waiting for a letter from somebody and is crazy with worry.”
Daniel realized that he couldn’t postpone his visit to Nina any longer.
At first Nina refused to receive Daniel. He stood in front of her house for a long time, wondering what to do. The ground around him was covered with a carpet of white acacia flowers, and Daniel absentmindedly drew question marks on it with his cane.
He heard a slight rustle above him, looked up, and noticed the curtain flicker in the second-floor window.
He raised his hat. “Good morning, Nina.”
“What do you want?” she asked angrily.
“We need to talk. I know that you’re on the verge of bankruptcy because of the Jesuits.”
In the end, Nina let Daniel in, and he followed the amah into the house. There were no men’s umbrellas in the stand in the lobby. Toy bricks, napkins, and rattles were strewn over the carpet. He could see the clear signs of negligence typical in houses where their owners have no time for their chores.
Nina was waiting for Daniel on the sunny terrace. Pale and tense, she sat on a wicker couch, a small black satin fan trembling in her hand.
The guest’s armchair had been placed next to the garden steps, as far as possible from Nina, but Daniel chose to ignore his hostess’s seating arrangements and sat on the sofa next to her instead.
“Tell me what’s going on,” he said.
Nina tried to put on a brave face, saying that she was perfectly capable of coping with her problems, but then suddenly dropped her mask and enumerated the entire list of disasters that had befallen her since their last meeting.
“The monks knew that I couldn’t take them to the court,” Nina fumed. “If I did so, I’d have had to admit that I had sold them pornography. Anyway, what were my chances of winning against the Jesuits?”
Daniel looked at her affectionately. You silly girl, why did you go and get yourself involved in men’s business? he thought. Did she really think that any man would take her seriously?
“If you allow me, I can help you,” he said softly.
Nina closed her fan and folded her arms. “What do you want in return? I want things to be clear from the start to avoid any misunderstandings… like the last time.”
“Do you not think my motives are unselfish?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Where’s your telephone?”
They went to Nina’s studio, and Daniel made two calls: one to the Consul General of France and the other to the Abbot in Siccawei.
Fifteen minutes later, Father Nicolas called Nina to tell her the good news that her calendars would be in print the next day. He apologized for the long delay and asked Nina to convey his warmest greetings to Mr. Bernard.
Nina hung up and stared at Daniel in amazement. “You’re a miracle worker.”
She left the room and returned soon after, holding a small ivory disk in her palm.
“This is the only thing left from Gu Ya-min’s collection,” she said. “I like this woman, sleeping on a chrysanthemum. Take it as a keepsake.”
Daniel couldn’t believe his eyes: it was a kitsune, a Japanese fairy tale fox. What Nina had thought were chrysanthemum petals were, in fact, the vixen’s nine tails—the mark of its wisdom and magical power.
“Do you know what it is?” Daniel said.
Nina shook her head. “No, I don’t.”
“It’s a netsuke. Japanese kimonos have no pockets, and they use the netsuke to attach special boxes for small personal belongings to their belts.”
Daniel didn’t tell Nina that the netsuke was also considered to be an amulet. In the fairy tales, a mortal would never ask a kitsune for material riches—the coins and gold given would immediately turn into worthless rocks or wood bark. But as payment for a service, a kitsune could give a much more valuable gift, an amulet that grants love and the ability to read thoughts.
At their parting, Nina didn’t directly invite him over again, but Daniel knew that she wouldn’t be making him wait on her porch next time.
He was constantly on the lookout for a chance to see Nina, and every time they met she made it clear that there was to be nothing more between them than their brief conversations and the provision of an occasional favor.
Is she still mad at me? Daniel thought. Can she really still be waiting for news from Klim Rogov? Nina never mentioned him, and it was difficult to say for sure.
She released her new calendars, but the opportunity had been missed, and her business once again started going downhill. Her small publishing company was unable to compete with the big boys. They outbid her for the services of her artists and models, the cost of the posters was constantly on the increase, and her profits began to fall. Soon, Nina wasn’t even able to pay her employees on time, and before long she had issued two promissory notes to Daniel, borrowing money for her expenses.
He was beginning to feel uneasy, too. His order to go back to Canton could arrive any moment, and then what would happen? Would he have to abandon Nina again? There was only one way out: to take her with him. But how on earth could he persuade her to drop everything and go to a half-ruined city full of Bolsheviks? And what were they going to do about Kitty? Send her to some boarding school? Nina would never agree to this. Daniel had watched Nina playing with the Chinese baby girl—and she was besotted with her.
He began to drop hints that her publishing business was not going to work out, and the sooner Nina gave it up, the better. “If you don’t have a powerful patron, you won’t last until the summer. Your competitors will eat you alive.”
“Is that what you call ‘friendly support’?” Nina snapped, frowning.
Intimidating her was a dangerous tactic, but reassuring her was even more so.
“I admire your tenacity,” Daniel said, “but if a person close to me is about to make a mistake, I would always consider it my duty to warn them and let them know.”
The business dilemma finally came to a head when the distributors point blank refused to accept Nina’s posters anymore. The Heaven Peony, the largest publishing house in the city, could extend their payment schedule to six months, and Nina couldn’t.
She was in utter despair, and Daniel didn’t know what to do. In theory, he should have been happy, because if Nina didn’t have any income, she would be much more compliant. But against all logic, Daniel acted quite to the contrary.
“I’ll give you a loan so you can stay afloat,” he said. “Tomorrow I’ll be at the regatta. Come, and I’ll give you the money.”
The British expatriates in Shanghai had set up their own version of the annual Henley Royal Regatta, and it had become one of the highlights of the white community’s social calendar. Grandstands were set up on the river banks, and the waterfront was lined with a fleet of sampans hired by keen spectators. Orchestras played and children screamed joyfully, while bluish smoke crept over the trampled grass where cooks were roasting lamb and pork.