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.
“I’ve seen her around. Not met them formally.”
“Headmistress of Essex, old-timer. Grim, formidable. Been around forever. Her partner, Mary Winkle.”
Will and Angus walk over to the women. Edwina inclines her head regally, a queen holding court.
“Hello, Angus. Merry Christmas.”
“Edwina, I wanted you to meet Will Truesdale, somewhat of a new arrival to these shores. And Will, this is Edwina Storch and Mary Winkle, Hong Kong institutions. They know where all the skeletons are buried.”
“Pleased to meet you,” says Will.
“I’ve seen you around,” Edwina says. “You’re with the Liang girl.”
“Yes,” Will says. He is not surprised by her bluntness. He has run into this type before: the unapologetic, rude English matron who fancies herself an adventuress and desires nothing more than to intimidate.
“That didn’t take you long.”
“No, it didn’t, luckily,” he says lightly. “She’s been a wonderful introduction to Hong Kong.”
Edwina Storch harrumphs.
“That’s a skewed sense of Hong Kong you’re getting! ”
Mary Winkle lays a small, reproachful hand on Edwina’s arm.
“Now, now,” she whispers. “Trudy has always been lovely, if misunderstood. I do like her so very much.”
Will smiles at her. “She is lovely, isn’t she?”
Edwina sips noisily at her glass.
“What’s that you’re drinking? ” she asks.
“Single malt.”
“A man’s drink. Since you’re with Trudy, I thought you might be a champagne drinker.”
“Are you friends with her? ” he asks politely.
“Of course,” she says. “In Hong Kong, everyone has to be friends or it’s very unpleasant.”
“Of course,” he says agreeably to the women and bows to them before taking his leave. After a pause, Angus joins him back at the bar.
“Something about that woman turns me into a schoolboy about to wet his trousers,” Angus says.
“And you keep going back for more,” Will says drily.
“That one likes her creature comforts,” Angus says. “Always after me about civil salaries and what an outrage they are. Never met a headmistress more interested in money.”
The two men pull at their drinks.
“I heard the governor’s told all the men in the Bachelors they were off their heads for wanting their wives back. His wife’s still in Malaysia, no?”
“Yes, but I don’t know that that’s any safer, do you?” Will says. “How is Amelia?”