Tai-Pan

CHAPTER TWENTY

The sun had already dipped below the mountains, but the harbor was still bathed with gold. Ah Sam took the binoculars from her eyes and scuttled anxiously away from the spy hole in the garden wall. She ran through the piles of rocks and earth that would soon be a real garden and hurried through a door into the living room.

“Mother! Father’s boat’s near the shore,” she said. “Oh-ko, he looks very angry indeed.”

May-may stopped sewing the petticoat. “Did he come from

China Cloud or

Resting Cloud?”

“Resting Cloud. You’d better look for yourself.”

May-may snatched the binoculars and ran out into the garden and stood behind the tiny latticed window and searched the foreshore waves. She focused on Struan. He was sitting amidships in the longboat, the Lion and the Dragon fluttering aft. Ah Sam was right. He looked very angry indeed.

She closed and barred the cover to the spy window and ran back. “Tidy all this up, and make sure it’s well hidden.” And when Ah Sam carelessly scooped up the ball gown and petticoats, she pinched her cheek sharply. “Don’t crush them, you mealymouthed whore. They’re worth a fortune. Lim Din!” she shrieked. “Pour Father’s bath quickly, and make sure his clothes are laid out properly and nothing’s forgotten. Oh yes, and make sure the bath’s hot if you know what’s good for you. Put out the new cake of perfumed soap.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“And watch yourself. It looks as if Father’s anger’s in front of him!”

“Oh-ko!”

“Oh-ko indeed! Everything better be ready for Father or you’ll both get a whipping. And if anything interferes with my plan, you’ll both get thumbscrews and I’ll whip you till your eyeballs fall out. Go on with you!”

Ah Sam and Lim Din scurried away. May-may went into her bedroom and made sure that there were no signs of the ball gown. She put perfume behind her ears and composed herself. Oh dear, she thought. I don’t want him in a bad mood tonight.

Struan strode irascibly toward the gate in the high wall.

He reached for the gate handle but the door was flung open by a beaming, bowing Lim Din.

“Nice piece sunfall, heya, Mass’er?”

Struan answered with a sullen grunt.

Lim Din locked the door and bustled for the front door, where he beamed more hugely and bowed lower.

Struan automatically checked the ship’s barometer that hung on the wall in the hallway. It was set in gimbals, and the thin, glass-incased column of mercury read a comfortable fair-weather 29.8 inches.

Lim Din closed the door softly and scampered ahead of Struan, down the corridor, and opened the bedroom door. Struan went in and kicked the door shut and bolted it. Lim Din’s eyes turned upward. He took a moment to compose himself, then he evaporated into the kitchen. “Someone’s going to get a whipping,” he whispered apprehensively to Ah Sam. “As certain as death and squeeze.”

“Don’t you worry about our devil barbarian father,” Ah Sam whispered back. “I’ll bet you next week’s salary Mother will have him like a turtledove in one hour.”

“Done!”

May-may stood at the door. “What are you two lumps of dogmeat motherless slaves whispering about?” she hissed.

“Just praying that Father won’t be cross with our poor dear beautiful mother,” Ah Sam said, her eyes fluttering.

“Then hurry up, you oily-mouthed whore. For every cross word he says to me, you get a pinch!”

Struan was standing in the center of the bedroom staring at the bulky, grubby, knotted handkerchief that he had taken out of his pocket. Goddammit to hell, what do I do now? he asked himself.

After the fight he had escorted the archduke to his new quarters on

Resting Cloud. He had been relieved when Orlov had told him privately that he had had no trouble in rifling the archduke’s luggage.

“But there weren’t any papers,” Orlov had said. “There was a small strongbox, but you said not to break anything, so I left it as it was. I’d plenty of time—the men kept the servants busy.”

“Thank you. No word of this, now.”

“Do you take me for a fool!” Orlov had said, his dignity offended. “By the way, Mrs. Quance and the five children are settled on the small hulk. I said Quance was in Macao and due to arrive on the noon tide tomorrow. Had a job avoiding her cursed questions. She’d pester an answer out of a barnacle.”

Struan had left Orlov and had gone to the boys’ cabin. They were clean now and had new clothes. Wolfgang was still with them and they were not afraid of him. Struan had told them that tomorrow they would be going with him to Canton, where he would put them on a ship for England.

“Yor ’Onor,” the little English boy had said as he had turned to go, “could I be a seeing you? Privy like?”

“Aye,” Struan had said, and he had taken the boy into another cabin.

“Me dad said I were to give you this’n, Yor Worship, an’ not t’tell nobody, not Mr. Wu Pak or’n even Bert.” Fred’s fingers trembled as he undid the cloth bundle that was still attached to the stick and laid the cloth open. It contained a small knife and a rag dog and a bulky knotted kerchief. He passed over the kerchief nervously and, to Struan’s astonishment, turned his back and closed his eyes.

“What’re you doing, Fred?”

“Me dad sayed I weren’t t’look and to turn me back, Yor Worship. An’ not to see,” Fred replied, his eyes tight shut.

Struan untied the kerchief, and gawked at the contents: ruby earrings, diamond pendants, rings studded with diamonds, a big emerald brooch and many broken, twisted gold belt buckles, heavy with diamonds and sapphires. Forty to fifty thousand pounds’ worth. Pirate loot. “What did he want me to do with this?”

“Can I open me eyes, Yor Worship? I be not to see.”

Struan knotted the kerchief and put it into his frock-coat pocket. “Aye. Now, what did your dad want me to do with it?”

“He sayed it were me—I forgits the word. It were, it were somethin’ like ‘mittance’ or ‘ritance.’ ” Fred’s eyes filled with tears. “I beed a good boy, Yor Worship, but I forgits.”

Struan squatted down and held him firmly and gently. “No need to cry, lad. Let’s think. Was it ‘inheritance’?”

The boy stared up at Struan as though he were a magician. “Yus. ‘Ritance.’ How’d’yer knowed?”

“No need to cry. You’re a man. Men dinna cry.”

“What’s a ‘ritance’?”

“It’s a gift, usually money, from a father to a son.”

Fred mulled that a long time. Then he said, “Why’d me dad sayed not to tell bruvver Bert?”

“I dinna ken.”

“Wot, Yor Worship?”

“Perhaps because he wanted you to have it and not Bert.”

“Can a ‘ritance’ be for lots of sons?”

“Aye.”

“Can me bruwer Bert an’ me share a ‘ritance’ if we gets one?”

“Aye. If you have one.”

“Oh good,” the boy said, drying his tears. “Bruvver Bert’s me best friend.”

“Where did you and your dad live?” Struan asked.

“In a house. Wiv Bert’s mum.”

“Where was the house, lad?”

“Near the sea. Near the ships.”

“Did the place ever have a name?”

“Oh yus, it were called ‘Port.’ We was livin’ at a house in Port,” the boy said proudly. “Me dad sayed I were to tell you everythin’, truthful.”

“Let’s go back now, eh? Unless there’s anything else.”

“Oh yus.” Fred quickly tied up the bundle. “Me dad sayed to tie it up like before. Secret like. And not to tell. I be ready, Yor Worship.”

Struan opened the kerchief again. God’s death, what do I do with this treasure? Throw it away? I canna do that. Find the owners? How? They might be Spanish, French, American or English. An’ how do I explain how I got the jewels?

He went over to the huge four-poster bed and pushed it away from the wall. He noticed that his new evening clothes were laid out meticulously. He knelt down beside the bed. An iron strongbox was cemented into the floor. He unlocked the box and deposited the bundle with his private papers. The Bible that contained the other three half coins caught his eye and he swore. He relocked the box and moved the bed back in place and walked to the door.

“Lim Din!”

Lim Din appeared immediately, glassy-eyed and beaming.

“Bath plenty quick!”

“Bath all ready, Mass’er! Never mind!”

“Tea!”

Lim Din vanished. Struan crossed the bedroom to the special room that had been set aside solely for the bath and for the toilet. Robb had laughed when he had seen the plans. Even so, Struan had insisted that the innovation be built exactly as he had planned it.

The high copper bath was set on a low platform, and a drain led from it through the wall and into a deep rock-filled pit that had been dug in the garden. Above the bath a holed iron bucket was suspended from the beams. A pipe led into the bucket from the freshwater tank on the roof. There was a cock on the pipe. The toilet was an enclosed cabinet with a movable lid and removable bucket for the night soil.

The bath was already filled with hot water. Struan stripped off his sweat-sour clothes and stepped into the bath gratefully. He lay back and soaked.

The bedroom door opened and May-may came in. Ah Sam followed her, carrying a tray with tea and hot dim sum, Lim Din close behind. They all walked into the bathroom and Struan closed his eyes in quiet exasperation; no amount of explaining and chastizing had made Ah Sam understand that she could not come into the bathroom while he was having a bath.

“Hello, Tai-Pan,” May-may said with a glorious smile. All his irritation faded. “We’re having tea together,” she added.

“Good,” he said.

Lim Din picked up the soiled clothes and vanished. Ah Sam set down the tray merrily, for she knew she had won her bet. She said something to May-may in Cantonese, which caused May-may to laugh, and Ah Sam giggled and ran out of the bathroom and closed the door.

“What the devil did she say?”

“Woman’s talk!”

He lifted up the sponge to throw it, and May-may said hurriedly, “She said you were a mighty built of a mans.”

“Why for the love of God, will Ah Sam na understand a bath is a private matter?”

“Ah Sam’s very private, never mind. Wat for you’re shy, hey? She’s lots of pride in you. You’ve nothing to be shy of.” She took off her robe and stepped into the bath and sat at the other end. Then she poured the tea and offered it.

‘Thanks.” He drank the tea and then reached over and ate one of the dim sum.

“The fight was good?” she asked. She noticed the well-healed scars that her teeth had made in his forearm, and hid a smile.

“Excellent.”

“Why were you angry?”

“Nae reason. These are good,” he said, eating another of the pastries. Then he smiled at her. “You’re beautiful and I canna think of a nicer way to have tea.”

“You’re beautiful too.”

“Is the house feng-shuied?”

“When is the dress judging?”

“Midnight. Why?”

She shrugged. “Half before midnight, will you come back here?”

“Why?”

“I like to see my man. Take him away from that cow-busumed weevil mouth.” Her foot slid under the water. Struan recoiled at the intimate attack and almost dropped his tea. “Will you na do that and be careful, by God.” He intercepted her hand and laughed. “Now be a good girl.”

“Yes, Tai-Pan. If you’re likewise careful.” May-may smiled sweetly and let her hand rest quiet in his. “You dinna stare at me like you did at that devil womans, even though I’ve no clotheses on. What’s wrong with my busums?”

“They’re perfect. You’re all perfect. Of course you are. Now stop teasing.”

“So you will come back, half an hour before?”

“Anything for peace.” Struan drank some more tea. “Oh, yes. You did na answer me. Has the house been feng-shuied?”

“Aye.” She picked up the soap and began to lather herself. But she said nothing more.

“Well, has it or has it na?”

“Aye.” Again she was silent, a beautiful infuriating sweetness about her.

“Well, what happened?”

“I’m horrified sorry, Tai-Pan, but we’re right square on the dragon’s eyeball and we’ve to move.”

“We will na move and that’s an end to it.”

She hummed a little song as she finished using the soap. She washed off the lather and looked at him, wide-eyed and gentle. “Turn around, I’ll soap your back,” she said.

“We’ll na move,” he said suspiciously.

“Ma-ree came over this afternoon and we had a nice talk.”

“We’ll na move! And that’s the end to it.”

“Really, Tai-Pan, I’m na deaf. I heard you fantastical well the first time. Do you want your back scrubbed or do you na?”

He turned his back and she began to soap him. “We’re going to move and that’s the end to it. Because your old mother’s decided,” she said in Cantonese.

“What?” he said, moving his neck a little, glorying in her probing touch as her hands exquisitely massaged his shoulder muscles.

“An old Cantonese proverb: ‘When swallows nest, the sunrise smiles.’ ”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What it says.” She felt very pleased with herself. “It’s just a happy thought, that’s all.” She scooped some water and rinsed away the soap. “Ah Sam, ahhhh!”

Ah Sam ran in, carrying huge towels. May-may got up and Ah Sam wrapped one around her and held the other for Struan.

“Tell her I’ll do it mysel’, by God!” he said.

May-may translated and Ah Sam put down the towel, giggled and ran out.

Struan emerged from the bath and May-may swathed him in the towel. To his surprise he found it was heated.

“I tell Ah Sam in future to cook the towels a little,” May-may said. “It’s good for health.”

“It feels splendid,” he said, and rubbed himself dry. He opened the door and found that the bed had been turned down and his new clothes put on the bureau.

“You have time for short rest,” May-may said, and when he started to argue, she added imperiously, “You will rest!”

Struan glanced at his watch. There’s plenty of time, he thought, so he climbed into bed and stretched out luxuriously.

May-may beckoned to Ah Sam, who went into the bathroom and closed the door. Kneeling, Ah Sam unbound May-may’s feet and dried them. She powdered the feet and replaced the bandages with clean dry ones and put new embroidered slippers on them. “They are so beautiful, Mother,” she said.

“Thank you, Ah Sam.” May-may pinched Ah Sam’s cheek tenderly. “But please don’t make so many remarks about Father’s appendages.”

“I was only being polite, and they are more than a little worthy of respect.” Ah Sam unpinned May-may’s hair and began brushing it. “Normally a father would be very happy to be complimented. Really I don’t understand our barbarian father a little bit. He hasn’t taken me to bed once. Am I so disgusting?”

“I keep telling you that barbarian fathers don’t bed all the women of the house,” May-may said wearily. “He just won’t do it. It’s against his religion.”

“It’s really very bad joss,” Ah Sam sniffed, “to have such a father, so endowed, and for it to be against his religion.”

May-may laughed, and gave her the towel. “Run along, little oily mouth. Bring some tea in one hour, and if you’re late I’ll give you a good whipping!”

Ah Sam fled.

May-may put perfume on herself and, thinking excitedly about the ball gown and her other surprise, she went into the bedroom.

Liza Brock opened the cabin door and went to the bunk. She could feel cold sweat running from her armpits. She knew it was now or never for Tess. “Come on, luv,” she said, shaking Brock again. “Time to get up.”

“Leave me be.” Brock turned over again, rocked gently by the tide nudging the hull of the

White Witch. “I be dressing in good time.”

“Thee’s been asaying that for half an hour. Get thee up or thee be late.”

Brock yawned and stretched and lifted himself in the bunk. “Baint even sundown yet,” he said blearily, staring out of the porthole.

“Gorth be arriving soon and thee wanted to be ready early. Then there be books to go through with compradore. Thee ask’d me to wake thee.”

“All right, doan carry on, Liza.” He yawned again and looked at Liza. She was wearing a new dress, dark red silk brocade with a large bustle, and the dress showed many petticoats. Her hair was tight in a bun. “Thee look right smart,” he said automatically and stretched again.

Liza played with the huge feathered hat that was in her hands, then put it down. “I’ll help thee dress,” she said.

“Wot be this! I told thee my old suit were nice,” he exploded as he saw the new clothes on the chair. “Dost think brass be so easy to come by that thee can spend it like salt water?”

“No, luv, thee needed new dress clothes and thee’s to look thy best.” She offered the small corset that fashion decreed a man must wear to give him a neat waist. Brock cursed and got out of bed. After tightening the corset over his long woolen underwear, he grudgingly allowed himself to be helped into his clothes.

But looking at himself in the mirror, he was most pleased. The new ruffled shirt billowed on his chest, and the maroon velvet frock coat with gold-embroidered lapels fitted perfectly: huge on the shoulders and snug at the waist. His tight white trousers were held into a smooth line by thongs under polished soft black evening boots. Orange-embroidered waistcoat, gold chain and fob seal.

“By gum, thee looks like King of England, luv!”

He brushed his beard and it jutted violently. “Well,” he said gruffly, trying to hide his pleasure, “mayhaps thee was right.” He turned to profile and smoothed the velvet closer against his chest. “Mayhaps it could be tighter to me chest, eh?”

Liza laughed. “Get on with thee, lad,” she said, less afraid now, “I think the ruby pin in thy cravat’d be better’n the diamond.”

He changed the pin and continued to admire himself. Then he laughed and caught her around the waist and hummed a waltz and forced her into a dance. “Thee’s the belle of the ball, luv,” he said.

Liza tried to be gay for the moment, but Brock could tell from her eyes that something was amiss. “Wot be the matter?”

She took out a handkerchief and wiped the perspiration off her forehead and sat down. “It’s, well, it be Tess.”

“She be sickly?”

“No. It’s, well—we be taking her to the ball!”

“Are thee out of head?”

“I’ve a dress done for her—oh, it be proper lovely—and done her hair and she be ready for thy approval afore—”

“Then tell her to get to bed, by God! She baint goin’ to no ball, by God! Thee knowed my mind on that! Thee’s made her a dress, have thee?” and he lifted his hand to strike her.

“Listen a moment,” Liza said, her strength dominating her fear. “First listen. Nagrek—and her.”

The blow stopped in midair. “Wot about Nagrek?”

“It be lucky he died that night. Tess, well, Tess she—” The tears welled. “I baint wanting to worry thee, but she—”

“She’s with child?”

“No. I be terrored this past month since thee beed in Canton. In case I were wrong. But her monthly start last week, bless the Lord, so that fear’s away.”

“But she baint virgin?” he asked horror-struck.

“She be virgin still.” The tears ran down her face.

“Then for the love of God, if she still be virgin, then wot the devil’s thy worry? There, there, Liza,” he said, patting her cheek.

Liza knew that she could never tell him that Tess was truly not a virgin. But she blessed the Lord for letting her convince the girl that it had been mostly her imagination and that she was still as pure as a girl must be.

“This past month be terrible,” she said. “Terrible. But it be a warning to us’n, Tyler. I be worried about thee and thy not seeing that she be growed up, and I’m afeared. Thee won’t see wot’s afore thy eyes.” He started to speak but she rushed on. “Please, Tyler. I’m beggin’ thee. Just look at her and if thee agrees she be growed up, then we takes her. If thee thinks otherwise, she doan go. I told her it were thy decision.”

“Where be Tess now?”

“In the main cabin.”

“Thee wait here.”

“Yes, luv.”