Return to Mandalay (42 page)

‘And so …’ Ramon pulled in to the kerb outside her hotel. ‘There is only one possible thing to do.’

‘Yes,’ she breathed. And she knew what that was.

A group of men were squatting outside a shop doorway, playing
mah jong
. Beside them, a woman had set up a stall selling some sugary confection fried in oil. Eva could sniff it in the air. She was always tempted by the street food, and a couple of times she’d tried it, restricting herself to things that looked relatively safe and identifiable.

‘Thanks for the lift.’ She undid her seat belt. Earlier, he had asked her if she wanted to change hotels, or even come and stay at the house. There was plenty of room, he’d said, and Maya would be delighted, even though it was officially against the rules for a tourist to stay in a Burmese home. But Eva had turned down the offer. If she changed hotels, they’d soon find out where she was – if they were still following her. And if she went to stay at the house … Well, Ramon would be rather too close for comfort. She didn’t want to get anyone into trouble. And why should she be driven underground? She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

‘Come.’ Ramon got out of the car and went round to the passenger side. He opened the door. ‘I will escort you to your room.’

‘There’s really no need,’ she said.

But he wasn’t taking no for an answer, so she followed him into the hotel, got her key from the desk and called for the lift.

‘And how do you plan to find out what’s inside the crate?’ she whispered to him as they stood side by side. ‘If your warehouse manager is always there keeping a watch on it?’

The lift arrived and they got in. ‘He must go home sometime,’ he said.

‘And if the crate is sealed?’

He turned to face her. ‘Anything that is sealed can be unsealed, Eva. Anything that is closed can be opened.’

For a moment, Eva wondered if he was even talking about the crates at all. Conscious of his proximity, she moved away, towards the far corner of the lift. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing him in, it felt like. Even when he hadn’t been at the factory, he smelt vaguely of freshly sawn timber and oily wood polish. ‘When will you do it?’ It was very melodramatic. But there was no going back, not now.

The lift was pinging its way up the floors. Finally it reached the seventh and the doors hissed open. ‘It will have to be soon.’ He strode out of the lift and she followed him. ‘Tonight.’

‘Of course.’ If they left it any longer, the crate would be taken away for shipping. But her heart leapt. At last, things were happening.

She waited meekly while he inserted the key in the lock and flung the door open. He strode in, glanced in the bathroom, looked around the room, which, thanks to the chambermaid, was pristine and tidy, and seemed satisfied that it was empty. ‘I will go back to the factory,’ he said. ‘And when it gets dark—’

‘Why when it gets dark?’ She looked up at him. ‘It’s your factory. Why can’t you just open up the crate in broad daylight?’

‘No.’ He frowned. ‘It is better under the cover of darkness. Who knows who might be watching? Who knows who cannot be trusted?’ He walked over to the window and surveyed the vista of downtown Mandalay, his arms folded. Not for the first time, Eva wondered what he really felt for this city and how much he wanted to stay.

‘Take me with you.’ She joined him at the window. ‘I want to be there when you open up the crate. I want to see what’s inside.’

‘Impossible.’ He glanced towards her and then away. ‘It is far too dangerous. This is not work for—’

‘A woman?’ she challenged.

He shrugged. ‘I will not put you in any more danger. That is all.’

Eva sighed. ‘How can it be dangerous? It’s your warehouse. All we have to do is slip in, open up the crate and take a quick look inside.’

His expression was inscrutable. He shook his head. ‘Not “we”, Eva. “I”.’

‘But I’m already involved.’

‘No.’

‘And you need my expertise. I can tell you—’

‘No.’

She sighed. He was really very stubborn. ‘Well, I’m coming anyway,’ she said. ‘I’ll get a taxi as soon as you’ve gone. I’ll stay there, out of sight, until it’s dark.’ She glanced across at him but there was no response. ‘I’m going to be part of this, Ramon.’

Finally, he looked at her and she thought she saw the ghost of a smile turning the corners of his mouth. ‘OK.’

‘What?’ She stared at him.

‘I said OK. In England, it is different for women. I know that already. My father warned me.’

‘Warned you?’

He raised both hands as if asking for mercy. ‘No more arguments, please,’ he said.

‘No more arguments,’ she agreed. After all, she was the one who had got them into this predicament. If she had only trusted him instead of rushing over to Li’s … But it was hard to trust someone who was so secretive and who seemed to be living in the Dark Ages as far as women’s liberation was concerned. He had an awful lot to learn.

‘You will leave the hotel at sunset and not before,’ he said. ‘Walk two blocks before you get a taxi by the moat. Come straight to the warehouse door and I will let you in. Knock three times. Tell the driver not to wait. Can you do that?’

‘Of course I can do that.’ Eva bridled at his tone. He’d given in, but she knew he didn’t like it.

Ramon moved towards her, his dark hair flopping over his forehead. She reached out, brushed it back gently with her fingers. It was almost an unconscious gesture. She held his gaze. But they both knew what it meant.

‘So I will see you later, Eva.’ He put his fingers on her mouth, then tilted her chin and brushed her lips with his. He still did not look away.

‘See you later,’ she whispered.

And she stood at the window while he went down in the lift and left the building. She stood there until he had got in the car and driven away. Until he was out of sight.

‘Eva? Is that you?’ The phone line connection was fragile. Ironic, thought Rosemary. Something she would work on. ‘How are you, darling?’

‘Fine. Absolutely fine.’ Eva sounded tired, but there was something else. A suppressed excitement.

‘What’s happened?’ Rosemary glanced towards the open living room door. But he was sleeping. Sleeping or drifting. She’d left him with Mrs Briggs this morning, while she went out for a walk. She had to get some air, escape, just for an hour, and despite the chill wind she’d chosen to go to the golden sandstone cliff above Burton. She loved it there, it had been one of hers and Nick’s special places. She tramped along the grassy cliff-top. The sheep were out grazing in the shorn November fields and she could see the grey church tower of the village beyond, the broad olive sweep of the ocean on the other side.
I’ll come again tomorrow
, Mrs B had said. She seemed to know that while Rosemary didn’t need her to cook or clean, she needed something else.

‘You’ll never believe it,’ said Eva. ‘How’s Grandpa?’

Fading away, thought Rosemary.
Fading away before my very
eyes
. ‘Not strong,’ she said. ‘Looking forward to seeing you, of course.’

‘I don’t know whether or not to tell him.’ She heard Eva catch her breath. ‘I don’t want to give him too much of a shock. If he’s not feeling strong, I mean.’

Tell him what? Rosemary sighed. ‘You’d better tell me then.’ She was her mother. ‘Is it about Maya?’

‘Oh.’

‘He’s told me about her.’ Rosemary sat down on the piano stool her father kept by the phone table. She remembered her mother having it re-covered in this chintzy rose pattern over the old green velour. Funny, the things you remembered, the things you could visualise as if you’d seen them yesterday.

‘How did that make you feel, Mother?’ Eva asked. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Of course.’ Rosemary spoke quickly, before she had a chance to consider. She ran her finger along the bevelled edge of the stool. ‘It was a long time ago, Eva. It was well before he married your grandmother.’ Though they both knew. Time had very little to do with it.

‘Good.’ Eva sounded decisive. ‘But you’d better brace yourself, Ma.’

Brace herself? The thought of a plane journey filtered into her mind.
Get ready. Prepare
.

‘For what?’

‘Grandpa and Maya … Well, he didn’t know, of course. She kept it a secret all these years.’ Eva’s voice held a note of wonder. And respect, Rosemary noted.

‘Kept what a secret?’
Out with it, girl
.

‘After Grandpa enlisted, Maya found out she was pregnant. She gave birth to their daughter during the war.’

Eva paused and the silence seemed to echo down the phone line. All of a sudden the connection was clear, uncluttered by all the things that didn’t really matter.

‘A daughter,’ Rosemary said.

‘Yes.’ There was another beat of silence between them. ‘Are you OK, Ma?’

Something fluttered inside her. Trepidation? Excitement? Disbelief? ‘Yes.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m OK. Tell me.’

‘Her name is Cho Suu Kyi. I met her yesterday. Maya introduced us. I had no idea either.’

‘But how old is she? What’s she like?’ Again, Rosemary looked towards the door.

‘She must be in her late sixties, I suppose. She’s quiet and serene. Really quite lovely.’

A daughter, thought Rosemary. Maya and her father. So her father had two daughters. ‘What does she look like?’ she whispered. Or did she mean who? She couldn’t imagine.

‘Brown eyes. Dark hair. Greying. She has Burmese features. But the shape of her eyes is different. And actually …’ She paused. ‘She looks a bit like you.’

‘Oh my gosh.’ Rosemary blinked. She was still trying to take it in. Burma. His other pathway. Their parallel world.

Eva let out a low laugh. ‘She was desperate to find out about you,’ she said.

‘Really?’ Rosemary felt quite weak. Lucky she was sitting
down, she thought. ‘What did you tell her?’
That your mother had left you when you were sixteen?

‘That you lived in Copenhagen. About Dad. About Alec.’

Goodness.

‘You have a half-sister, Ma,’ Eva said. ‘Don’t you think that’s rather wonderful?’

‘Well …’ She wasn’t sure what to think. But the surprising thing was, that ‘wonderful’ was in there somewhere. She’d always wanted a sister, she thought. And all these years …

‘And Grandpa …’

‘Heavens, yes.’

‘Grandpa has another daughter.’ Eva lowered her voice. ‘A daughter living on the other side of the world.’

‘Yes.’

‘How do you think he’ll take it?’

Rosemary frowned. ‘He’ll be pleased,’ she said. ‘Thrilled.’ After all, Maya had been the love of his life and, much as she hadn’t wanted to accept that, it was a fact and there was nothing she could do about it. She thought of Nick. You couldn’t help who you fell in love with. This Cho Suu, whoever she was, was a child born from love. Which had to be special.

‘But he’s missed out on all those years. He won’t blame Maya will he, for not telling him?’ Eva asked.

Oh, Eva, Eva, it was so long ago
. And she didn’t think her father was capable of blame, not now, when he was so frail. ‘I’m sure he won’t, darling,’ she said. And there was something ironic, Rosemary thought, in the fact that no sooner
had she found that bond with him, no sooner had she discovered her own father … That he should gain another daughter.

‘Will you tell him?’ Eva asked. Suddenly, she sounded like a child again. Rosemary thought of this daughter of hers, who had been so irrepressible, so independent and who had somehow grown up estranged from her. How she wanted to get to know the real Eva, the Eva who probably still was strong and independent, but who was vulnerable too.

‘He should be told,’ Rosemary murmured. ‘Of course I’ll do it.’

‘And as soon as possible.’ Eva’s voice was urgent now. ‘That’s why I phoned. I didn’t want to leave it until I got back. Just in case.’

In case it was too late, thought Rosemary.
Oh, my heavens …

‘I’ll tell him.’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘Don’t worry, darling. First chance I get.’
When I think he might understand what I’m saying
, she meant.

‘Good.’ Eva sounded a little surprised. ‘Thank you.’ Rosemary guessed she’d been expecting the phone call to be much harder than it was. And that’s what she had done all these years, she thought. She had made her daughter’s life harder, not easier. Not intentionally. She’d only been after damage limitation, she’d done what she had to do. But nevertheless. That’s what she had to live with now.

‘And everything else?’ Rosemary forced a normality into her tone that she didn’t really feel. ‘Is everything else alright?’

Eva exhaled loudly. ‘There’s a lot going on, to tell you the truth,’ she said.

‘With your work?’

There was a pause. ‘I’ve got a suspicion that by the time I get back I won’t have any work.’

‘Why on earth not?’ Rosemary felt a jolt of concern.

‘It’s a long story.’ She sounded a little despondent. ‘And it isn’t over yet. But …’

‘I worry about you being there on your own,’ Rosemary said. The country was still such an unknown. And an awfully long way away.

‘I’m not completely on my own.’ There was a different note to her voice now.

‘Oh?’ Rosemary was intrigued.

‘Maya and her husband had a daughter too. She married an Englishman who came over here in the sixties.’

‘Quite a coincidence,’ murmured Rosemary. Like mother, like daughter. So often, that seemed to be the way.

‘And they had a son, Ramon.’

‘Oh, yes?’

‘He’s been showing me round a bit. He’s been very helpful, supportive.’

‘Mmm?’

‘He’s really nice, Mother.’

Rosemary didn’t have a problem reading between the lines. Eva was telling her that she had become somehow attached to Maya’s grandson.
Oh, my Lord
. She didn’t know whether
to laugh or cry. But so long as someone was keeping an eye on her.

‘I have to go now, Ma.’

‘Take care, darling.’ Half of Rosemary’s mind was on her father. Could she make him understand? But the rest was with her daughter in Burma. ‘Please take care.’

Eva felt as if she’d side-stepped into a James Bond film as she slipped out of the hotel at sunset, walked a couple of blocks and crossed over to the wide and glimmering moat. The sun had dipped low behind the buildings and the sky was suffused with a deepening blush of red and grey. Another stunning sunset in Myanmar.