White Tiger (9 page)

‘He was worried you’d resign after this evening, like all the others did. And then Simone would be heartbroken,’ Leo said.

‘No way will I ever leave Simone as long as she needs me.’ Then I heard what he’d said. ‘Others? How many others?’

‘At least fifteen in the twelve months before you arrived,’ Leo said. ‘He’d just about given up when you came on part-time. When the others saw the weapons
they were scared away. You’re the first to find out who he really is.’

‘Leo, do you think he’ll teach me? I’d really like to learn the martial arts.’

‘I dunno, Emma, it’s up to him. But I think it’s a good idea. The more of us who are trained, the better we can defend Simone. You should ask him.’

‘I did,’ I said. ‘He said no, definitely not, and never to ask again.’

Leo glanced sharply at Ms Kwan.

‘Leave it for now then,’ Ms Kwan said. ‘I will talk to him.’

‘Any questions?’ Leo said.

‘A million, but right now I think I’ll just wait and see. I’m not completely convinced, but I’m willing to stay on for Simone’s sake.’

‘Let’s go and tell him then,’ Leo said. ‘He’ll be delighted.’

Mr Chen was sitting on one of the sofas with some Chinese tea on a side table next to him. Simone was busily drawing pictures of the Eiffel Tower, her drawing equipment spread all over the floor.

‘Will you stay, Emma?’ Mr Chen said.

‘Yes, I will.’

‘Thank you. You’re very brave.’

I shook my head. ‘No. I’m completely crazy.’

He made a soft sound of amusement, then nodded towards Simone. ‘Simone’s bedtime now, please.’

I stopped in front of Mr Chen. He was dressed all in black as usual, a scruffy T-shirt and a pair of torn cotton pants. His feet were comfortably bare and his long hair had already come out of its tie.

He saw the way I was looking at him. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to grow three heads any time soon.’

Ms Kwan sat in the armchair next to him and he poured her some tea. ‘Four heads, a hundred arms and a thousand eyes,’ she said.

‘Maybe only two heads,’ he said. ‘I keep forgetting. It’s been a very long time now.’

‘Two heads again soon, I am sure, Ah Wu.’

‘Not too soon,’ he said, and they laughed quietly together.

‘I am going to do some research on Xuan Wu the minute we’re back in Hong Kong,’ I said defiantly.

He seemed surprised, then grinned broadly. ‘Go right ahead.’ He crossed his arms over his chest and stretched his long legs in front of him. ‘Seventy-five per cent of what’s out there about me is wrong anyway.’ He gestured with his teacup towards Simone. ‘Bedtime, Simone.’

‘Come on, Simone,’ I said.

‘I don’t wanna go to bed. I wanna draw with Aunty Kwan.’

‘You have to go to bed now if you want us to take you to Tuileries tomorrow,’ Leo said from the dining room door.

Simone leapt up and grabbed my hand. ‘Hurry up, Emma.’

I could feel Mr Chen’s eyes on my back as I led Simone out. I turned. He
was
watching me, intently. When he saw me looking, he smiled and met my eyes. Something leapt inside me and I slapped it down,
hard.

W
e walked over the Pont Neuf towards Notre Dame. Simone still had boundless energy and skipped beside us.

The forecourt of the cathedral was packed with tourists from all over the world and there was a long queue curling out from the main entrance.

‘Do you want to go inside?’ I asked Simone. ‘There’s a lot of people waiting.’

‘Notre Dame’s
boring
,’ she said, and slowed to grab Leo’s hand. ‘Come on, Leo.’ She dragged him across the road towards some three-storey stone buildings around a gated forecourt. Wigged and gowned lawyers walked up and down the stairs. I checked my mini map of Paris: the Justice Building.

‘What are we doing here?’ I said, but they ignored me and I had to hurry to keep up with them.

We went around the corner to where a tiny, dingy chapel nestled under the walls of the office buildings. I checked my map again: Saint Chapelle.

The queue wasn’t as long as the one for Notre Dame. Simone stopped jiggling and stood quietly while we paid the entry fees.

Inside, it wasn’t very impressive. The ceiling was
quite low, and there was only a small amount of stained glass.

‘The rose windows are nice,’ I said. ‘Do you want to take a photo?’

‘No,’ Simone said and pulled Leo to the back of the chapel. A curving set of very narrow stairs led upwards. As Simone dragged Leo up the stairs his broad shoulders brushed against the walls, adding to the sheen of many bodies that had been there before.

When we reached the upper chapel the beauty of the interior took my breath away. The ceiling towered above us, with narrow stained-glass windows between the even narrower stone buttresses. The windows extended from ceiling to floor in a glittering dazzle of colours. They were like insubstantial glowing curtains between the fragile stonework of the walls.

A horseshoe of benches had been set up in the centre of the chapel to allow visitors a good view of the stained glass. Simone released Leo’s hand, sat herself on one of the benches and spent ten minutes silently staring at the windows.

A group of young tourists walked past us and Leo watched them carefully. I caught his attention and raised my eyebrows. He shook his head slightly.

Simone hopped off the bench and dragged us down the stairs again.

‘We have to be back at Ms Kwan’s soon,’ I said. ‘Anywhere else you want to go before we leave for London?’

‘Do I have time to go to Boulevard Haussmann and buy some stuff?’ Simone said. ‘I like the shops there.’

‘Sure,’ I said, stretching my feet. ‘Sore?’ Leo said.

‘No,’ I said. ‘Completely killing me.’

He bent to talk quietly to me. ‘Me too.’ He straightened. ‘Not finished yet. Boulevard Haussmann. Okay, I’ll call the driver.’

Simone pointed to the entrance to the Metro station. ‘I wanna take the train. Why can’t we take the train?’

‘Don’t be silly,’ I said. ‘It’s a long way down to the station and a long way up again. It’s much easier to take the van, and we can get to the shops faster.’

‘Okay,’ Simone said. ‘Hurry up, Leo. Can we go to the Eiffel Tower one more time before we leave?’

I sagged. ‘Simone, you’ve been there three times already.’

She grinned up at me. ‘But I like it.’

Leo pulled out his phone. ‘You don’t say.’

After a last lunch with Ms Kwan, we went out into the narrow leafy street where our van waited.

‘I had fun with Aunty Kwan,’ Simone said. ‘She’s my favourite.’

Leo opened the door of the van for us. Simone raced back to Ms Kwan for one last hug and kissed her on the cheek.

‘Look after your father for me,’ Ms Kwan said.

‘Come and visit us in Hong Kong,’ Simone said.

Ms Kwan nodded, smiling.

Leo took Simone and buckled her into the van.

I approached Ms Kwan and spoke softly. ‘I hope it’s all true, Ms Kwan.’

‘Don’t worry, dear Emma,’ she said, smiling gently. ‘Bring him back to me in about eight months; his energy will not last longer than ten. But it is best if I come to him.’ She took my hands and clasped them, and again I felt the warm sensation of comfort. ‘Look after our little Simone. She is very precious.’

‘Don’t worry, I will.’

I looked down at my hands where she held them. I wanted to tell her how much it meant to meet her, what it felt like to talk to her, how special she was. I wanted to thank her. But I couldn’t find the words. I looked up at her in desperation, to find her smiling at me.

‘It’s all right,’ she said, ‘I understand.’

I climbed into the van and sat next to Simone.

Mr Chen came out of the house, stood in front of Ms Kwan, and smiled down at her.

‘Let me know if you see any more of them,’ she said.

‘I will. Go back to your garden, Lady.’

‘I certainly will. All of this is much too elaborate for me.’ She raised her arms and sighed theatrically. ‘Ah, the sacrifices I make for you, Ah Wu.’

He stayed perfectly still, watching her. Then he fell to one knee before her and held his hands clasped in front of his chest in the Chinese salute.

Leo gasped.

Ms Kwan stamped her foot. ‘Ah Wu! If you ever do that to me again I will not speak to you for a hundred years.’

He rose and saluted her again.

Her voice trembled as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. ‘You are a silly old man.’

‘I know. I will see you in eight months.’ He climbed into the van and closed the door. ‘Let’s go.’

I glanced back through the rear window of the van as we pulled away. She was gone.

It was a short hop from Paris to the UK. A driver with a stretch limousine waited for us at Gatwick.

Leo and I sat facing the rear, and Mr Chen and Simone sat across from us, facing the driver. It was a crush with Mr Chen’s long legs and Leo’s huge mass and I understood why Mr Chen usually ordered a van.

Simone slept in the car, but Mr Chen seemed full of energy. He looked ten years younger after seeing Ms Kwan, nearly the same age as me. Whatever it was that she’d done to him, it had worked.

‘Leo, do you think you will be all right without me tomorrow?’ he said. ‘If you and Emma take Simone to the Science Museum?’

‘Should be okay, Mr Chen. There’ll be plenty of people around everywhere we go,’ Leo said.

‘They only come after you when there aren’t people around?’ I said.

Both Leo and Mr Chen nodded.

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Good.’

They stared at me.

‘Why good?’ Leo said.

‘Because if we always make sure there are plenty of people around, Simone will be safe,’ I said. ‘Obvious.’

Leo and Mr Chen shared a look.

‘Where are you planning to go, Mr Chen?’ I went on. Leo dug me in the ribs and I yelped. I rounded on him. ‘What?’

‘You ask too many questions,’ Leo said.

‘The hell I do. You’re always keeping me in the dark. I need to know what’s going on.’ I gestured towards Simone, who was sleeping on Mr Chen’s lap. ‘For example, now I know that she’s safer with more people around, I can make sure we’re always in busy places.’

Leo chuckled and shook his head.

‘I want to go to Cambridge and meet up with some of my old postgrad colleagues,’ Mr Chen said. ‘It’s been a long time.’

‘You studied at Cambridge?’ I said, and yelped when Leo dug me in the ribs again. I slapped his arm. ‘Cut it out!’

‘Leo, I think I am capable of telling Miss Donahoe if I do not wish to answer her questions,’ Mr Chen said,
his eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘I have a PhD from Cambridge. I did it about…’ He paused, thinking. ‘Thirty years ago, I think. I had to rewrite the thesis six times before they’d accept it. I nearly gave up.’

‘Thirty years ago? How old were you when you did it?’

His face shifted until he seemed younger, in his mid-twenties. ‘I was about twenty-five when I studied there.’ He changed again, until he appeared in his mid-fifties. ‘I will be about fifty-five when I go back.’ He changed back to his mid-thirties.

Dear Lord, it was real. I was working for a god!

‘My Lord, that was an unnecessary waste of your energy,’ Leo said, irritated.

‘What?’ I said, glancing from Leo to Mr Chen.

Leo thrust his hand palm-up towards Mr Chen. ‘Throws his energy away all the time.’

I turned my attention back to Mr Chen. ‘Please don’t waste your energy on small things.’

‘Oh come on,’ Mr Chen said. ‘You should have seen the look on your face.’ He smiled at me and his eyes wrinkled up. I felt a rush of affection for him, then pushed it away. Only around for a limited time, and not even human. No chance.

‘What was your PhD in?’ I said.

‘Comparative literature. I compared the stories surrounding the English King Arthur with the stories surrounding me. It was fascinating to draw the parallels—the stories become more embroidered and elaborate as time passes. My supervisor had never even heard of me, he hadn’t done much Chinese literature. He said I was very interesting.’

I choked back the laugh. ‘I’d love to read it.’

‘It’s in my study somewhere.’

‘Oh geez, I’ll never see it then.’ I rounded on Leo before he could dig me in the ribs again and shoved him. ‘Cut it out!’

Mr Chen chuckled. ‘You have family here in England, don’t you?’

‘Yes, a big sister. Moved to England with her husband about ten years ago. I haven’t seen her in ages.’

‘If you would like to take some time to visit her, you can,’ Mr Chen said. ‘No, thanks.’

‘You should see your family, Emma.’ ‘Maybe next time.’

‘Very well, but next time you
will
see them.’ I sighed. ‘Okay.’

‘What’s the matter—problems with your family?’ Leo said.

‘None of your business.’

‘Suit yourself.’ He looked away. ‘At least I know when not to ask questions.’

‘Bastard,’ I said under my breath. ‘I heard that,’ he said, a low rumble.

Simone woke as we were passing Hyde Park in Kensington and watched the scenery with delight.

The limousine stopped in a quiet leafy side street outside a white four-storey townhouse with towering ground-floor windows.

A caricature of an English butler waited at the front door: mid-fifties, bow tie, the whole works. The driver opened the door for us and Simone ran to the butler and threw herself into his arms. She kissed him quickly, then pulled herself free and ran into the house.

‘Help the others with the bags, James,’ Mr Chen said, walking up the stairs to the entry.

James came down the stairs to the boot of the car.

Leo stopped in front of him. ‘I don’t need your help, Mr O’Brien.’

‘Orders, Mr Alexander,’ James snapped back.

They stood and glared at each other. I decided to go inside the house without getting involved.

I followed Mr Chen into the entry hall. Old-fashioned black and white tiles covered the floor, and the ceiling stretched away forever. Curved stairs led to the next floor up, with more stairs to higher levels. What appeared to be expensive European art hung on the walls.

Simone was hugging and giggling with a grandmotherly English woman wearing a pale blue maid’s uniform.

‘I missed you, Charlie!’ Simone cried.

‘I missed you too, little Princess,’ Charlie said, lifting Simone and squeezing her. She lowered Simone to look at her properly. ‘You are growing so fast, you’re already a proper little lady.’

‘That’s what Aunty Kwan said.’ Simone screwed up her face. ‘I’m
hungry
.’

Charlie smiled at me. She had a soft, round face with cheerful sparkling blue eyes. Her greying brown hair was tied in a loose bun.

‘Hi,’ I said. ‘I’m Emma, Simone’s nanny.’

‘Pleased to meet you.’ She smiled down at Simone. ‘Let’s go and find you something to eat.’ She patted my arm. ‘Would you like something, Emma?’

‘A cup of tea would be lovely, Charlie,’ I said.

‘Me too, Charlie, in the study,’ Mr Chen said from where he was checking some documents on a rosewood hall table.

Leo and James came in with the bags, still glowering at each other.

Mr Chen saw them. ‘Will you two let it go!’

Leo and James dropped their heads, apologetic.

‘Put Miss Donahoe’s bags in the room next to Simone’s, James,’ Mr Chen said. ‘And as soon as you two are finished with the bags I want to see both of you in my study.’

Charlie spoke conspiratorially to Simone and me. ‘Come on, girls, let’s leave these silly men to their own business.’

Mr Chen glanced up at us, eyes sparkling, from the other side of the entry, but didn’t say anything.

Charlie sat us at the kitchen table and gave Simone some warm scones with lashings of jam and cream. Simone messily buried her face in them, and slurped on some milk.

‘What’s the problem between James and Leo?’ I asked.

‘James will never forgive Leo,’ Charlie said. ‘He blames him for…’ She hesitated, and glanced at Simone. ‘You know. What happened.’

‘I don’t think it was Leo’s fault,’ I said. ‘He’s very good.’

‘It wasn’t Leo’s fault at all, dear,’ Charlie said, ‘but I think James has to blame somebody.’

Charlie and I were firm friends by the time James came in.

‘I’ve put your bags in your room, Emma,’ he said, and I nodded my thanks. He didn’t lose his crisp London accent, and I began to suspect that the old-fashioned butler thing wasn’t an act. He bent over Simone to kiss the top of her head. ‘Hello, sweetie.’

‘Hello, James,’ Simone said through a crumbly mouthful of scone.

James pulled a cup and saucer from a cupboard and sat at the table with us. Charlie poured him some tea.

‘So, Emma,’ he said, ‘how long have you worked for Mr Chen?’

‘Full-time, about six months,’ I said. ‘But I’d been caring for Simone part-time for another six months before that.’

‘And Simone is happy?’ James said.

Simone nodded through her food. ‘Good. Where are you from, Emma?’ ‘Australia. Queensland.’ ‘Don’t know anyone there,’ James said. ‘How long have you worked for Mr Chen?’ James hesitated, probably working out something suitable in his head.

‘It’s okay, I know,’ I said. ‘What, already?’ Charlie said.

Simone piped up. ‘We were followed by some demons in Paris. Leo caught one, but Aunty Kwan let it go. So Leo had to tell Emma about Daddy and everything.’