Fragrant Flower (12 page)

Alone in the darkness of her cabin she admitted to herself that he had given her something to remember in the long years that lay ahead.

At least she would not be ignorant of what a kiss was like and, if the thought of the ecstasy she had experienced made her long for more, then one had always to pay for one’s happiness.

Her mother had told her that.

“Nothing is for free, my dearest,” she had said once to Azalea. “If one receives one must also give, and one pays for everything in some way or another – sometimes with an aching heart!”

Azalea had known that her mother was not speaking of herself but of some of the wives in the Regiment who had come to her weeping bitter tears because their husbands were unfaithful. It was a side of love which Azalea had hoped she would never experience, but now she was not sure.

It was better, she thought, to have been kissed by Lord Sheldon and to know the wonder and joy of it, rather than to go through life as her uncle intended her to do, unaware of the rapture one could experience from a man’s touch.

And yet it was hard to tell herself that she would never see him again.

She knew that he had called the day after they had landed, but there had been no question of her meeting him. Lady Osmund had made it quite clear the moment they arrived at Flagstaff House that Azalea was to be kept in the background.

But even to hear his name made something vibrate and come to life within her.

Her uncle said on the second day at luncheon when the family were alone,

“I am disappointed in Sheldon!”

“Disappointed?” Lady Osmund asked. “Why?”

“I believed he had come out here to help put matters straight where the Governor is concerned, but as far as I can ascertain, he is doing nothing of the sort.”

“What can you mean?” Lady Osmund enquired.

“What I say,” the General remarked crossly. “He appears to be agreeing with Sir John.”

“I cannot believe it!” Lady Osmund exclaimed. “You must be mistaken!”

The General was scowling and was obviously turning over in his mind something that had occurred.

“What makes you think that Lord Sheldon is taking the Governor’s side?” Lady Osmund enquired.

“We were discussing at the meeting this morning the custom prevailing amongst the Chinese community in Hong Kong of buying and selling girls for the purpose of making them domestic servants.”

“A very sensible custom!” Lady Osmund remarked.

“That is what I thought,” the General replied, “but the Governor is trying to put a stop to it.”

“How ridiculous! Why should he interfere?” Lady Osmund enquired.

“He alleges, I think wrongly, that the kidnapping of young Chinese girls for exportation to the Straits Settlements and to California and Australia has increased enormously.”

“Had he any evidence of this?”

“He has persuaded the Chief Justice to declare that there is no distinction between the sale of girls for domestic servitude and exportation for immoral purposes.”

“I am sure that is nonsense!” Lady Osmund asserted.

“That is what General Donovan said also. But the Chief Justice echoed what the Governor affirmed last year, that there are ten to twenty thousand female slaves in Hong Kong and that this form of slavery flourishes only through the failure of the Government’s officers to enforce the existing laws.”

“It sounds very exaggerated to me,” Lady Osmund commented.

“That is exactly what I said myself,” the General answered. “I have asked for reports on this subject, because it is a matter not only for the police, but also for the military. But one can hardly believe that the whole dispute is to be referred to the Secretary of State in England.”

“On whose request?” Lady Osmund enquired.

“Need you ask?” the General replied harshly. “The Governor insisted and was backed up by Lord Sheldon.”

“It cannot be true!” Lady Osmund exclaimed.

“As you well know,” the General went on, “we have been instructed that every care must be taken not to interfere with the habits and institutions of the Chinese – this matter of buying for adoption is deeply interwoven into their social customs.”

“Perhaps you should speak privately to Lord Sheldon,” Lady Osmund suggested. “He is young and I have heard that the Governor can be very persuasive regarding his wildcat ideas. Surely he must realise that this sort of attitude can be dangerous to the peace and harmony of the whole Colony?”

“I spoke on the subject in no uncertain terms,” the General replied. “I am convinced that the Chief justice is wildly exaggerating the whole matter, while the Governor is inclined to twist anything in which he takes an interest.”

“Personally I find him very charming,” Lady Osmund said.

“He can be when it suits him. At the same time, I can assure you, my dear, he is a trouble-maker. He never leaves well alone and sooner or later finds himself at variance with every public figure with whom he works!”

The General paused and added somewhat spitefully,

“Sheldon will soon find that he is backing the wrong horse!”

“All the same, Frederick, I think it would be a good idea if you asked Lord Sheldon to dinner this week. I thought when he called yesterday he was being particularly attentive to Daisy.”

“If you are considering him in the light of a potential son-in-law,” the General said rising from the table, “I advise you to do nothing of the sort.”

“But why, Frederick? Why should you say that?” Lady Osmund asked.

“Because, as I have told you, Sheldon is encouraging the Governor in the very attitude that I am trying to oppose.”

“What is that?” Lady Osmund asked.

“His determination to treat the Chinese with an equality to which they have no right.”

“An equality?” Lady Osmund echoed, her voice rising.

“That is what I said,” the General said firmly. “Do you know what the Governor is called by the Chinese?”

He did not wait for his wife to answer but said contemptuously,

“‘Number One Good Friend!’ That shows you the type of man he is!”

The General left the Dining Room and Azalea, following Lady Osmund, felt as if her head was in a whirl.

She might have known, she thought, that Lord Sheldon could be none of the things she had first thought about him. How, if he had been, could he have aroused in her anything so beautiful or so wonderful as the rapture she felt when their lips met?

‘How stupid I was!’Azalea thought.

She felt herself blush as she remembered all the accusations she had made to him and how she had told herself how much she hated and despised Lord Sheldon even while she knew it was untrue.

She did not sleep that night for wondering if she would ever have the chance of telling him again how sorry she was to have misunderstood what he had said to Captain Widcombe.

It would not matter to him, she thought, what she felt about him. At the same time, it was humiliating to know how wrong she had been and how foolish.

Because she felt perturbed and so upset after what her uncle had said, she could not settle down to sew after Lady Osmund and the twins left in an open carriage for Government House.

The Governor was giving a garden party and all the most fashionable people in Hong Kong were to be present.

The party set off without saying goodbye to her and she stood a little forlornly in the hall, conscious that the Aides-de-Camp who accompanied Lady Osmund had glanced at her in a somewhat embarrassed manner.

They had learnt by this time her position in the household, and that even the smallest efforts on their part to be polite to her were frowned upon both by the General and his wife.

Azalea walked upstairs to her bedroom to stand, for a moment looking out over the trees towards the blue water in the Bay and beyond it to Kowloon.

The sunshine seemed to glitter like gold, and yet there was a darkness within herself which overshadowed the joy of being warm again.

It was then she made up her mind. She had promised Mrs. Chang she would go to visit her, and this was her opportunity not only to see someone she thought of as a friend, but also to have a lesson in Chinese.

“Come any time!” Mrs. Chang had said. “You always welcome in my husband’s house.”

Bravely, because she knew that if it was discovered her aunt would be furious, Azalea put on her hat and, taking a small lace-trimmed sunshade which had once belonged to one of the twins, she went downstairs and asked for a rickshaw.

A servant summoned one to the door and she got into it feeling it was an adventure to be pulled swiftly down the drive of Flagstaff House and out into the road.

The rickshaw boy had bare feet and his clothes were ragged. But he hummed a tune as he ran, and Azalea had the feeling that he was happy.

Mr. Chang’s house was, Azalea knew, a little way up the side of the Peak, above the elegant white houses built by the Europeans in Victoria.

When they reached it she saw with delight that it was completely Chinese with its green tiles and carved eaves ornamented with porcelain dragons.

She paid the rickshaw boy, knowing she would not be able to afford to keep him waiting for her, and was bowed into the house which was built Chinese-fashion round several courtyards.

It was, Azalea saw, a very impressive and luxurious residence even for a rich Chinese.

Kai Yin Chang was delighted to see her.

“You honour us with your presence,” she said bowing almost to the ground, then forgetting ceremony she clapped her hands to exclaim, “I hope you come! I much to say! You very welcome!”

Azalea saw her apartments and felt she could have spent hours looking at the long, scroll-like Chinese pictures on the walls, the pottery which she knew was very old, and the exquisitely carved pieces of jade. Never had Azalea imagined that jade could range in colour from pure white through clear emerald green to dark, almost black, green.

There was a nephrite dish of warm bronze exquisitely carved with feline figures.

“Chow dynasty,” Mrs. Chang told her.

A carving of a flowering lotus was in white and pale green, so delicately executed that Azalea felt she could almost see the petals move.

“Ch’ing dynasty,” Mrs. Chang said.

Most elaborate was a white jade bottle ornamented with rubies and emeralds in a gold setting, but Azalea preferred a coral carving of Wang Mu riding above the clouds.

“Honourable husband say jade come from Heaven, heals body and gives immortality,” Mrs. Chang said in Chinese.

“I am not certain I want to live for ever,” Azalea replied, “but I would love to own even a tiny piece.”

“Jade also keep away evil thoughts,” Mrs. Chang went on. “Bring plenty good luck.”

“Then I must certainly try to possess a small piece,” Azalea said wistfully.

She looked at the jade again, feeling almost as if it had the power to help her.

“What wonderful pieces Mr. Chang has collected!” she exclaimed.

“He buy many, many, some he sell, some he keep. Best he keep for home.”

Azalea was sure that was true but she found that Kai Yin Chang knew really very little about them or their value. She only liked, as women of every nation do, to have beautiful things around her.

An ayah brought in Jam Kin looking attractively doll like, and then he was taken away for a rest.

“What we do?” Kai Yin Chang asked.

“Please show me more of your wonderful possessions,” Azalea begged. “They are so exciting for me.”

“Show you my clothes,” Kai Yin Chang replied. She brought from cupboards and chests the most exquisitely embroidered tunics that Azalea had ever seen. To go with them were trousers in brilliant coloured satin, and coats for the winter that were lined with sable and rich furs.

Kai Yin Chang was wearing a tunic of dark emerald green with trousers of orange satin. When she left the house and on formal occasions she wore a petticoat which was a straight square of embroidery in the front and at the back, and open at the sides. This was richly embroidered like a mandarin’s robe.

“What do you wear under your tunic?” Azalea asked.

“Very little! You try one – very comfortable.”

Azalea hesitated, but there was something fascinating in the thought of trying on anything so beautiful.

Kai Yin Chang chose for her a tunic of deep rose pink embroidered with flowers of many colours.

It was lined and piped at the neck and down the side of the slits with a pale leaf green, and as soon as Azalea put it on she realised what a difference the colour made to her skin and to the lights in her hair.

Now she realised how pastel shades which were so becoming to Violet and Daisy made her seem sallow and took away her natural colouring.

It seemed very daring to put on the satin trousers which matched the lining of the tunic and were turned up with rose pink.

They made her feel how large her feet were compared with Kai Yin Chang’s. She, like all Chinese women, had had her feet bound as a child.

Kai Yin Chang had told her about it when they were on the
Orissa
.

“Only slave girls not bound,” she had said.

Azalea had listened in horror to the details. At eight years of age when the bones of a girl’s foot had become sufficiently hardened to bear the incessant pressure – the binding began.

The pain was excruciating, the discomfort was actual torture, to contract the feet into such a small compass that they would fit into a shoe of two to three inches in length.

“I scream, cry, all day – all night!” Kai Yin Chang said almost proudly.

“When did the pain stop?” Azalea asked.

“Three – four years!” Kai Yin Chang answered. “But Honourable husband think feet beautiful!”

“You are very brave!” Azalea said, but Kai Yin Chang only smiled.

“Now wear hair like me,” she said, to change the subject. She let down Azalea’s long hair and tied it with a pink ribbon and decorated it with hair pins which had beautiful carved green tops.

“You very beautiful!” she exclaimed. “I lend earrings.”

It was such fun dressing up, and Azalea could hardly believe the difference the Chinese dress made to her appearance.

“You best in bold Chinese colours, not milky ones,” Kai Yin Chang said, and they both laughed.