Nightfall Over Shanghai (24 page)

Sunny hadn't expected to see Father Diego again, let alone to bump into him at the Comfort Home. The last time she had seen the priest was after Freddy's arrest, when she had found him at his church. Diego had listened sympathetically enough as Sunny described Freddy's close brush with the authorities, but he had then tried to talk her out of quitting her surveillance of the harbour, promising there would be no further need to involve the teenagers. Sunny had bolted from his office even before he finished his pitch, vowing to herself that she was done with Diego and his schemes forever.

The priest now greeted her warmly, as if they were meeting outside the church after a service rather than on the steps of a brothel. “You look marvellous, Sunny. And the
nene.
” Diego pinched Joey's cheek. “Look how the little one has grown. Not a baby at all.”

Despite the nature of their previous encounter, Sunny was genuinely pleased to run into the charming priest. “It's hard to believe he's already a toddler.” With a flush of pride, she set Joey down and let him walk. He held on cautiously to her finger for support.

“You will be running soon, little one,” Diego encouraged. “And then none of us will be able to keep up.” He knelt down and extended his arms to Joey but, as Sunny expected, the boy skittered behind her leg, whimpering to be lifted. Sunny picked him up again.

Diego laughed. “I don't blame you, Joey. I remember being scared of priests when I was little. All those old men in their long black dresses, my brothers and I used to joke.” He straightened up. “It's good to see you looking so well, Sunny.”

“You too, Father,” she said and meant it. Even in his black cassock, Diego struck her as handsome and debonair, as though he were a Hollywood matinée idol only playing the role of a cleric. “How are things with you?” she asked.

“All is well, thank God. The church is still standing. Our congregation is thinner, sadly, but as devoted as ever. The only complaint I have is that it is becoming harder and harder to find good news about the Axis powers to share with the followers of my wireless program.”

Sunny smiled. “I wish I could say I was sorry to hear that.”

Diego laughed. “Frankly, it's a pleasant dilemma for me.”

She lowered her voice. “And your secular work?”

“I still dabble here and there.”

She nodded toward the door. “Is that what brings you to the Comfort Home?”

He smiled noncommittally. “God's work knows no boundaries or barriers.”

Sunny checked behind her. “Is it safe for you to be seen here?”

“No one looks at me twice, especially not the Japanese. The men around here are far more concerned about being recognized themselves. Besides, I'm not the first man of the cloth to visit the
Comfort Home. And I will certainly not be the last.” He nodded knowingly. “However, I try to make it clear that I have come only out of spiritual obligation and not as a client. And you, Sunny? Have you come to see your friend Jia-Li?”

“I—we,” she said, glancing at Joey, “try to visit at least once a week. It's harder for her to come to me.”

“Such an engaging, intelligent woman. Her spirits seem brighter than when we first met and yet …”

“Yet what, Father?”

“She still seems very much a tortured soul.”

And always will be
, Sunny silently concurred. Joey squirmed in her arms. She looked down at him and smiled. Franz was right, the boy could do no wrong in her eyes. “I better get him inside. He's impatient to see his auntie.” She extended her hand to Diego. “It's lovely to see you again, Father.”

Diego took her hand but held on without shaking it. “Tell me, Sunny. Do you still live in the same building?”

“Yes, why?”

It was Diego's turn to lower his voice. “Are you familiar with the transmitter in Hongkew? The one just outside the ghetto?”

Sunny eyed him with suspicion. “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

“The Japanese, they use the transmitter to communicate with their armies throughout China and their ships all over the Pacific. It's very powerful.”

She shook her head adamantly. “No, Father. I cannot. Don't even ask me. I will never get involved again. Never.”

“You miss my point, Sunny.” Diego pointed overhead at the cloudless blue sky. “The transmitter, it's very likely to be a target.”

“Target? You mean for the Americans bombers?”

“Precisely.”

Sunny's shoulders tightened with foreboding. “What do you know, Father? Tell me, please.”

“Not much. Except that targeted bombing is extremely difficult, if not impossible, in residential areas. Which is precisely why the Japanese situated the transmitter where they did.”

“So the Americans plan to bomb the ghetto too?”

“I am saying that
if
they do target the transmitter, it is very possible that some of the bombs could stray and land in the surrounding neighbourhoods. Secondary damage is almost inevitable in such instances.”

Secondary damage.
Her stomach plummeted. She thought back to the days of the first invasion of Shanghai—and how she had watched in horror from the safety of the International Settlement while, across Soochow Creek, buildings in Hongkew crumpled like tents in a windstorm. She held Joey a little closer. “What can we possibly do to prevent bombs from falling on us?”

Diego squeezed her hand once before releasing it. “You can be vigilant. If you hear the planes overhead …”

“We cannot outrun bombs.”

“No, but you can escape your building. You can find shelter as soon as the air-raid siren sounds.”

Sunny laughed bitterly. “That is the running joke in the ghetto. That the air-raid sirens don't sound until the enemy planes are directly overhead.”

Diego smiled, patient as ever with her. “Then watch for the planes. Listen for their engines. They need to have visual sighting, so they will strike only in daylight. All I'm advising, Sunny, is to be prepared. For the rest, God will watch over you.”

***

Sunny was still contemplating Diego's warning as she sat in the drawing room waiting for Jia-Li. At her feet, Joey played with a rattle. She was convinced that the sly priest knew more than he was letting on, but what difference did it make? Even if she was told the exact day and time of an airstrike, where could they possibly hide within the confines of the ghetto?

Joey stopped shaking the rattle every so often and stared at it as though it were about to do something magical, though he never seemed disappointed when it didn't. Unlike Jakob, who needed constant stimulation, Joey could amuse himself for hours with a single toy. Sunny would have happily watched her son all day, but a few minutes later, Jia-Li breezed into the room. She wore a black silk gown tied loosely at the waist. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, her lips were painted ruby red and her face was heavily powdered. She looked almost Japanese—which, Sunny supposed, was the intent.

After almost three months of “captivity,” as Jia-Li described her stay in the basement hideaway, Chih-Nii had allowed her favourite and, not coincidentally, most in-demand girl to return to the living quarters upstairs. Clearly, Jia-Li had begun to work again, though she had never said as much, and Sunny had never asked.

“Who's my handsome fella?” Jia-Li cooed at Joey.

Rather than withdrawing, as he did with most adults, Joey tentatively raised his arms to Jia-Li. He was never shy with her. Franz had once joked that her effect on men knew no age limits, but Sunny knew there was more to it. Jia-Li had become smitten
with Joey. Almost every toy he possessed had been a gift from her. She doted on Joey, taking up her role as his godmother and protector with gusto. Sunny suspected it was the only thing that had kept her from further risky behaviour, like poisoning more of her clients.

Jia-Li swept Joey up and spun him in circles. He giggled softly as she dipped him up and down. Then she stopped and pressed her lips to his head. “I could eat this one up, Sister.” She leaned over and kissed Sunny on both cheeks. Her fragrance made Sunny think of cinnamon and peaches.

“He is rather cute, isn't he?” Sunny said.

“Rather, I should say.” Jia-Li mimicked a highbrow English accent, just as they'd used to mock stuffy Shanghailanders in their childhood.

Jia-Li lowered Joey to the ground and sat down beside Sunny. She took Sunny's hand in hers and held on to it so lightly that their skin barely touched. “Tell me, what is the news from the outside world,
xiăo hè
?” she asked. “And no war news. I hear more than my fill of that. Tell me about you and the family. Or any juicy gossip will do just fine.”

“Little to tell, thankfully,
băo bèi.
” Sunny nodded toward Joey. “When I'm not at the hospital, this one keeps me busy.”

“Hmm.” Jia-Li pulled out a pack of her favourite Russian cigarettes and a lighter from her pocket. She went through the motions of offering one to Sunny but didn't even wait for her friend to say no before lighting up her own cigarette. “All is otherwise well at home?”

“Busy.” Sunny chuckled. “Little Jakob is an adorable terror. A real handful for poor Esther. For all of us, really.”

Jia-Li bit her lip. “And Simon?”

“Ernst is still sheltering him in Germantown. Over two years now.”

Jia-Li laughed airily. “Could you imagine those two together day and night? Like Frick and Frack!”

“There's three of them now. Ernst has a monkey.”

“A
monkey!
What does Ernst need a monkey for?” Jia-Li rolled her eyes. “He practically is one himself.”

Sunny clutched Jia-Li's wrist. “Oh, Sister, I meant to tell you. Hannah is so grateful for the birthday present you sent her.”

“She likes the scent?”

“Loves it. She wears it all the time. She can't stop talking about it.”

“It was nothing. Mama will let the Comfort Home run out of water before we ever run out of fragrance.”

“Fifteen years old,
băo bèi.
Hard to believe. Hannah was such a little girl when I first met her. Now she's almost a woman.” Sunny sighed. “She is still dating that Freddy boy, though.”

Jia-Li raised an eyebrow. “You don't approve?”

“He could charm a lion from his kill, that one. But I don't trust him at all. Neither does Franz.”

Jia-Li blew out a ring of smoke that floated lazily skyward. “I've known a boy or two like that myself. It rarely ends well with those types.”

Sunny knew it was true. Jia-Li's first boyfriend had got her hooked on opium and led her into the life of prostitution before abandoning her at roughly the same age Hannah was now. “There's another sweet boy, Herschel, who still calls after Hannah. He won't give up. It breaks my heart to see him suffer so. But Hannah only has eyes for Freddy.”

“Typical,” Jia-Li huffed her disapproval. “And Franz? How is the dashing doctor?”

“He's fine.” Sunny couldn't fight back the grin. “Franz is such a wonderful father. After all, he raised Hannah single-handedly. But you should see him with Joey. So caring, so loving, so … so paternal.”

“Ah,
xiăo hè
, where did you find a man like that? Some people have all the luck.” She said it laughingly, without a trace of jealousy.

“And you,
băo bèi
? What is new?”

Jia-Li puffed out another smoke ring. “That is the beauty of the Comfort Home. Every day is exactly like the previous one.”

Sunny didn't believe that her friend felt as nonchalant as she sounded, but she didn't press the point. Instead, she asked, “You saw Father Diego?”

“I did,” Jia-Li said. “A dangerously charming man, that one. Such a waste that he's a priest.”

“Sometimes, I still wonder if he really is.”

Jia-Li laughed. “Oh, I'm certain he is.”

“How can you tell?”

“The way he listens,” Jia-Li said. “With his whole being. He invites confession.”

“I suppose so. Yes.”

Jia-Li looked away. “I told him,
xiăo hè
,” she said quietly. “All about Charlie.”

Sunny couldn't remember the last time she had heard her friend mention her husband's name. Any time Sunny had tried to talk about him, Jia-Li had clammed up or immediately changed the subject. “Everything?”

“Everything. Nothing.” Jia-Li swallowed. “Only that each day without him is worse than the one before.”

Sunny leaned forward and touched her forehead to Jia-Li's. “I cannot even imagine, Sister.”

They sat together quietly. Then, as if a spell had broken, Jia-Li pulled away and took another drag from her cigarette. Charlie's memory vanished. “Priest or not, he doesn't come here on Church business,” Jia-Li said. “Chih-Nii helps him out from time to time. Stashes a few more of his airmen in the hideaway. But he pays for the favour. After all, nothing is ever free with Mama. Not even patriotism.”

“How much more of that business can there be left?” Sunny asked. “People say the war will end soon.”

“People say all kinds of things. It doesn't make them true. Besides, the war hasn't been bad for Mama's business. And she will no doubt capitalize on peacetime too.”

“And you?”

“I don't think much will change in my life either, except perhaps I'll see different uniforms crumpled at the foot of my bed.”

Saddened by the thought, Sunny stroked Jia-Li's arm. “It would be the perfect time for you to get out of here,
băo bèi.
To forget this life and to come live with us. To be a dedicated auntie for Joey. That wouldn't be so bad, would it?”

“It sounds like bliss,” Jia-Li said with a faraway smile. “And where would we all live together?”

Sunny shook her head. “When the war ends, it will be the end of the ghetto too. We will find somewhere bigger and better.” She paused. “Of course, I still have to convince Franz that we should stay in Shanghai.”