Dragon Land (26 page)

Later, I was able to confirm this diet, as we had in the evening a meal of mince and dumplings with tinned peas. Breakfast in the morning was porridge with powdered milk, Keiller’s marmalade on toast, and tea with sugar and more powdered milk.

After Marie, dressed in her jumper, skirt, raincoat and rain hat, left for the church, Sandy said it was time for some sightseeing. ‘It might be better to take a coat in case it rains, as we get heavy showers some days,’ he said.

I noticed with amusement that he was still dressed in his crumpled suit and hat but had changed into a clean blue shirt.

The first thing he did was hire a rickshaw. To start with, I was a bit appalled that a little old Chinese man was pulling us along, but Sandy said he had been doing this for years and it was a good source of income to him and his family. Mollified, I sat back and enjoyed the trip. When we reached the harbour, I was amazed to see that it was packed tightly with sampans. It was difficult to see any water between these boats, and the entire area was a hive of activity. Men, women and children were busy doing their chores on board the boats.

Sandy said, ‘It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?’

I nodded. I had never seen anything like it before.

‘These families are born and live and die on board these sampans,’ he said. ‘A complete circle of life on the water.’

I couldn’t imagine living like that, but for the people themselves it was their way of life.

Sandy rubbed his hands. ‘Right then, let’s go and get something to eat. I’ll take you to my favourite vendor, Mr Song, who has a cart on the street.’

‘But Marie said …’

He snorted. ‘Never mind what Marie said. She likes to have her little paradise around her, a slice of Skye as recalled by her. She won’t wear anything but woollens and tweeds and sensible shoes. It’s as if she is still tramping the hills of the Western Isles, and as for the food … I only manage to exist here because of my love of Chinese cuisine.’ He winked again and this time there was no doubt about it. ‘So let’s go and sample the delights of Hong Kong, but don’t tell her. Don’t get me wrong, I am fond of her and respect her as a good teacher, it’s just her taste in food I dislike.’

We soon found Mr Song’s cart and Sandy ordered prawns on slender bamboo sticks, which came with a thick glutinous sauce. It was delicious.

Sandy smiled. ‘Didn’t I tell you it beats that awful porridge and powdered milk into a cocked hat?’

I had to agree.

Sandy was a great guide, and as we toured the streets and small shops I was enjoying myself so much. Before going back to the school, he took me into a dark cave of a restaurant, where we ate dim sum and more prawns served with bowls of fragrant rice.

Back at the school, we found Marie had returned from the church. ‘Did you have a good time, Miss Flint?’

‘Please call me Lizzie. Yes, we had a wonderful time, thank you.’

She looked me straight in the eye. ‘I hope you didn’t eat anything, as you won’t be able to eat your dinner.’

I hated lying to her, but Sandy was making signs behind her back, so I prevaricated.

‘What are we having for our dinner?’

‘Mrs Kydd has made a lovely steak pie with carrots, and for pudding there’s semolina and jam.’

Sandy looked appalled, and I had to laugh. Marie gave me a suspicious look, but I said, ‘That’s my favourite meal.’ It was a pity, as I had to eat everything on my plate and I felt quite nauseous afterwards.

The next day was my first day teaching, and I faced the rows of small children, who were all wearing white shirts and short trousers, with the girls in white blouses and grey skirts. There were ten Chinese children and I was pleased that they were also in the same uniform. Obviously Marie was a stickler for conformity, and I agreed with her.

‘Good morning, boys and girls. My name is Miss Flint and I’m your new teacher.’

‘Good morning, Miss Flint,’ they said in unison.

‘Now, I will get to know all your names as the day goes on, but if you open your reading books we will begin with that.’

For a brief moment, I had a sudden longing for Dundee and Ann Street School, and I wondered how Charlie was getting on and if he was still keeping up with his reading.

As I got to know them better, I soon found the children were so well behaved. I was glad I had made the decision to come here, as my time at the school was turning out to be a happy experience.

I wrote to Margaret every week and I sent her photos that I had taken with my new camera, which I had bought in a small photographic shop run by a Chinese family that appeared to have ten children, who all worked in the business.

Margaret replied that she was well and that Gerald was on the point of reuniting with her. I was pleased when I read this, as I still harboured a worry that I had abandoned her. I mentioned this to Sandy one evening and he laughed.

‘Nobody can abandon Margaret, Lizzie. She’s a self-made woman and quite capable of living by and looking after herself.’

I agreed but added, ‘Still, I’ll be glad when Gerald finally retires and they can settle down in their house by the sea.’

He nodded. ‘Well, I hope Gerald does retire. What do you think?’

I had to confess I had never met him. ‘Have you met him?’

‘Oh yes, we know him. Margaret was the headmistress of the school we taught in and we all got on well. One night she went to a dinner party given by a mutual friend and she met Gerald. Then, to our amazement, she married him. As I said to Marie, “Marry in haste, repent at leisure,” but she seems to be happy with him.’

‘Don’t you like him, Sandy?’

‘Yes, I like him, but he’s such a dry old stick. He’s a good few years older than Margaret and he’s a proper diplomat. I bet he asked her permission to kiss her on their wedding night and that Margaret just told him to get on with it.’

I felt myself go red and he laughed again.

‘You’re just joking, Sandy,’ I said.

He gave me one of his looks that said ‘would I lie to you’ and held up his hand. ‘I tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth,’ he said solemnly.

I had to laugh at him, because he was such a witty man and very good company.

It was a month later that I was to recall that flippant conversation when I received a letter from my aunt.

I’ve just returned from Lisbon, where Gerald has been buried after suffering a heart attack. It was all so sudden that I really can’t take it all in yet. He left instructions in his will that he was to be buried in the country he was currently living in. The graveyard in Lisbon is a very peaceful and beautiful place and the service was as dignified as he would have wished it. It is just so sad for this to happen on the eve of his retirement, but when I think about it perhaps this is what he wanted, as I always knew in my mind that he would never settle down to a normal retirement. Travelling the world was in his blood.

I was shocked when I read this and I rushed through to the kitchen, where Marie and Sandy were having their mid-morning cup of tea. Sandy saw my tears and he jumped up.

‘What’s the matter, Lizzie?’

‘I’ve just got this letter from Margaret. Gerald has died of a heart attack and has been buried in Lisbon.’ I handed the letter to him.

He sat down, and after he had read it he handed it to Marie, who looked shocked.

Sandy said, ‘What an awful thing to happen, to make plans to leave a country and end up being buried there.’

I was still crying as I sat down to answer Margaret’s letter. ‘I’m going to go back, Marie, back to Scotland to be with her.’

Marie said she understood, but Sandy disagreed.

‘Look, Lizzie, Marie and I know Margaret very well, and I don’t think she’ll want you running back there.’

I looked at Marie, and she agreed, but she said, ‘Write to her and ask her if she wants you to return to be with her, Lizzie. Margaret is a very self-sufficient woman and well enough able to cope with whatever life throws at her. Tell her you’ll return when you hear from her.’

I was torn in half. One part of me wanted to get on the next ship back to Carnoustie, but another part wanted to experience life here in Hong Kong. So I wrote and waited for Margaret’s reply.

The days that went past were filled with a mixture of grief at Gerald’s death and pleasure at teaching the children in my class, but before long Margaret replied and told me to stay where I was and to make the most of my life.

Gerald and I had a wonderful life together and he always enjoyed his work. Travelling the world was like an addiction to him, and I want you to fulfil your dream of living abroad and making the most of that dream. Please thank Marie and Sandy for their condolences and give them my best regards. Your loving aunt, Margaret.

When I told them what she had said, Sandy nodded.

‘I knew she would say that, Lizzie. If I know Margaret, then I guess she has made loads of friends where she lives, so you’re not to worry about her.’ As he went out the door, he turned. ‘I still feel guilty about laughing at Gerald that day. I didn’t mean any harm and I regret my words very much.’

I said I felt the same. I knew he was just being funny about the man I had never met and never would meet now.

Life settled down again to the usual daily routine, with Sandy and I still going out in the evening to sample Hong Kong cuisine.

One of my favourite shops was Mr Wang’s Wonderful World of Books. Sandy had introduced me to it and I spent most of my spare time there. The shop was situated down one of the narrow streets that was always a hive of activity even until late at night. Mr Wang’s shop was deceptive. From the street, it looked like just another one of the businesses that traded there, but when you went inside it was like entering a cavern filled with book-lined shelves that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Little benches were placed beside these shelves, and it was possible to come in and read a book without having to pay for it.

During my childhood I had often seen pictures of Chinese people and Mr Wang fitted my image of a Chinaman. He had a long, stringy, grey beard and he wore a fabulous embroidered coat and hat. He sat behind a desk that was situated just inside the door. By his side was his abacus, which he deftly used to count the purchases of his customers, and he would nod and smile when one entered and did the same when they left, regardless of whether they bought a book or not. I adored him, and he always made me feel welcome.

‘Miss Lizzieeeee,’ he said, making it sound as if I had ten e’s attached to the end of my name.

‘Mr Wang, how are you tonight?’ I always asked him, and he would nod and smile. I always bought a few books from him, as I didn’t like the idea of forever sitting in his cavern reading his stock.

In the beginning, Sandy would come in with me, but after a few visits he disappeared into the shop next door, which sold bottles of beer.

‘I only have the two bottles of beer,’ he said. ‘If I go over that, Marie will know what I’ve been doing.’

I said I didn’t believe him, but he laughed.

‘Believe me, it’s true. Marie is able to smell alcohol from a distance of a hundred yards, unless it’s downwind – then it’s half a mile.’

I gave him one of my disbelieving looks, but he said, ‘Trust me, I’m an ex-Scout.’

I didn’t mind, because I was in my element sitting amongst all these books, with Mr Wang’s kindly eye on me unless he had another customer, and then his abacus would go
click, click, click
.

It was the Chinese New Year: 14 February 1934, the Year of the Dog. The school was closed for the celebration, as were a lot of the small shops. Sandy, Marie and I were standing outside watching the dragon parade as it slowly made its way down the narrow streets followed by what looked like the entire population of Hong Kong. Fireworks were cascading into the night sky over the harbour, colourful rockets shooting upwards in a multitude of sparks. The smell of gunpowder lay thick in the air. I had never witnessed anything like it.

I recalled how Laura and I had spent New Year’s Eve in Dundee and how we both thought at the time how busy and noisy it was, but compared to this spectacle it was a very minor event. Families with young children and babies were out on the streets, laughing and chattering about the new year ahead of them.

Sandy explained how the Chinese calendar was made up of twelve animals and how the Year of the Rooster was now over and the Dog was in the ascendant. ‘The Chinese people put huge faith in the elements of each animal year,’ he said. ‘Every year has different elements.’

Personally, I was fascinated by everything, but when Sandy suggested we should go along with the dragon parade, Marie said she was going back inside.

‘I think Lizzie would like to see the rest of the parade, Marie, so we’ll just go out for a wee while.’ He took my elbow and said to stay close to him, as he didn’t want me to get lost in the crowds. ‘Marie will kill me if I lose you.’

As we neared the harbour, I could see crowds of people standing on the banks, and the little sampans were all lit up, with the families gathered on the decks watching the fireworks.

Sandy said that Mr Wang’s Wonderful World of Books was to be open, as two authors were due to visit it and sign their book. He asked me if I wanted to go and I said yes, I would love to. The shop was busier than usual and there was a large poster in the window advertising
Dragon Land
, a book by author Jonas O’Neill with photographs by Alex Garcia.

Mr Wang sat at the desk and gazed at the waiting queue with his usual inscrutable air, but he nodded his head when he saw me. I sat on my usual bench and had a good view of the two authors, who sat at a large table surrounded by copies of their book.

I had no idea which one was which, but I assumed the Italian-looking man with the black, slicked-back hair was Alex Garcia, which meant his companion must be Jonas O’Neill. He was tall and very slim with light-brown hair and blue eyes, and I liked the way he spoke to the customers with his soft Irish voice. It was difficult to say how old he was, but I reckoned he was in his early thirties.