The Son (35 page)

My wounds were healing nicely, and I was now able to sit up. My legs were the worry. Physio didn't seem to be doing much good, I had hardly any sensation in them, and the neurologist who took x-rays was still reluctant to operate.

‘The bullet is deeply embedded. The spinal cord itself doesn't appear to have been directly damaged but there's a good deal of pressure on it and we may do more harm than good if we try and remove it. Let's try more physio first. If it doesn't work then we can think again. I think tomorrow you can start using the walking machine.'

Anything was better than staring at the ceiling.

‘I talked to my aunt.' Eric had finally contacted Hao. He'd moved into the flat, and reached her at her brother's house. She had caught the bare facts of the assassination attempt on the news and she was in a high state of alarm.

‘I had to tell her you were still in hospital. She's going to ring you tonight.'

I waited anxiously for her call. It was now ten days since her departure, and so much had happened since that it felt as if she'd been gone much longer. When I heard her voice I almost couldn't speak at first.

‘Paul? Can you hear me?'

‘Yes.' I cleared my throat. ‘How are you? How's your mother?'

‘Better. She's back home now. She still can't talk or move very well but the doctor thinks she'll recover most of that in due course … How are you? Viv told me you were shot! Are you badly hurt?'

‘Not too badly. Recovering satisfactorily, as they say. I'll be okay.'

I didn't tell her about my legs. I didn't want to tug at her pity.

‘What happened? Paul? Why didn't you call me earlier? Eric said he also got shot …'

‘It's a long story. I'll tell you when you get back. But don't worry about him. He's fine, it was just a small wound …'

‘He said you saved his life.'

I didn't say anything.

‘Paul? Is that true? He said you were wounded when you tried to stop someone from shooting him …'

‘It's okay,' I tried to say. ‘He's being dramatic. It was my fault.

You were right. I should never have let things get to that stage.'

I sighed.

‘I'll tell you all about it later,' I said again, lamely. ‘When are you coming back? Is everything alright with you?'

‘Yes. No. How can it be?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Here I am worried to death, and missing you dreadfully, and you're lying in a hospital bed … I've been trying to book a seat to Sydney but all the flights are booked up for a week – I'm on stand-by for Wednesday evening. I should never have left you!'

‘Yes you should. You had to.'

‘Do you still want to marry me?'

‘What a stupid question! Have you changed your mind?'

‘Of course not! When I was in Leeds, I kept thinking of you, and how much my life has changed since I met you … and …'

She paused. I waited. I could hear her breathing.

‘When I saw Robert I told him all about you,' she said. ‘I told him you were sweet, and loveable, and you would never have forced me to have an affair with you. I also told him – I told him – you make love even better than him.'

Only one more hurdle to clear: how would she face having to live with a cripple?

I was at physio when she came. Straining on the walking machine, sweat pouring down my face, trying to put one foot in front of the other and avoid putting too much stress on my chest. I wasn't aware of her at first, it wasn't until the physiotherapist looked towards the door that I turned and saw her. For a moment I stood there, gripping the bars and trying to stay upright. Then I levered myself into my wheelchair and she came forward.

‘Oh Paul! What did they do to you!' she cried, and ran towards me. She knelt and put her arms around me. We wet each other's shirts with our tears.

EPILOGUE

NEW BEGINNINGS

We were married four weeks later, one Saturday in June, on the back veranda of Geoff and Cathy's house, overlooking the vineyard. A bright sunny winter's day, with the Brokenback mountains standing clear and sharp on the western horizon and the rows of pruned vines stark against the short winter grass.

Also present were most of the usual suspects, who had taken the trouble to drive up from Sydney: Jack and Sen Lipton, and Ann and Nghiem, Liz and her husband, a scattering of old friends. Rachel of course, who had flown up the day before from Melbourne and driven up with Vivien: there was no room in the flat and she was staying with Viv for the weekend.

Not present were any of the cousins, although Hao had made a point of inviting them. They had sent a short reply regretting that they couldn't take time away from the shop. More likely, I thought, they couldn't bear to fork out the traditional Vietnamese wedding gift of money.

Nor Roger or his wife. I liked Nancy, she'd been a good friend to Sandy in the old days, and I would have liked her to meet Hao as well, but a shadow had fallen over our friendship and I had no wish to see him again soon. But Brian Considine was there, with his spouse Barbara, resplendent in pink. In losing an old friend I had gained a new one.

And also the pretty Samantha, invited at Eric's request. I'm not quite sure why: he'd brought Hong along, the girl from the restaurant, Vo Khanh's niece, which was a nice thing to do. She'd been cut adrift by recent events and her uncle's arrest, and he and Hao had taken her under their wing. As far as Samantha was concerned I couldn't see much future in the relationship. There was too much of an age gap, and she was due for another posting. But there was a secretive, amused look in her eye when she looked at him, and I couldn't help wondering how close they'd become during their short time together, how far they'd taken those debriefing sessions in the safe flat in Bondi. He'd been very quiet on the subject.

On Hao's side, apart from Eric, her brother Nhan, who had also arrived the day before, from LA, and was staying with us. He'd come alone: they probably couldn't afford more than one fare, and someone had to stay home to look after her mother. She was recovering but in no shape to undertake long-distance travel. An early trip to the States was on the program.

Before the ceremony they came to talk to me, bending down to my level in my wheelchair. I hadn't made much progress with physio, and could barely walk across a room unaided, even with sticks. But a few days before I'd reached a decision. I was going to have the operation, with all its risks. Better that than remain a cripple. I wanted to have it done before the wedding, in case it failed, to give Hao the chance to reconsider. But she would have none of it. She wanted us to be married, whatever happened. And she was very insistent.

Liz, looking wistful and moist about the eyes, gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek, her husband Frank standing beside her with a glass of bubbly in hand. ‘She's beautiful, Paul!' she whispered into my ear. ‘I can see why you were so besotted. You will get well again soon, won't you my love? If only for her sake?'

Jack, who clutched a cold beer instead, waited until there was no one within earshot.

‘About our friends,' he said. ‘You may be interested. A rumour I heard.'

‘You mean Bach?'

‘Yes. And his offsider Binh, the one you think killed Quang.'

‘What have you heard?'

‘Seems they made it up to Queensland. Among Vietnamese fishermen there. There's quite a few who've resettled there, running deep-sea fishing boats. They were trying to arrange a passage to Vanuatu.'

‘Did they get there?'

‘They got part of the way. They went out alright, and when the boat came back they weren't on it.'

He paused.

‘You're sure of this?' I asked.

‘My source seemed to be. I have a couple of contacts up there. Ex-Vietnamese Special Forces. I passed the word along, as you suggested … Seems they put some burley out first, to attract the sharks. He said they made a funny noise as they went over the side …'

We stayed silent for a while, with him standing next to my chair, thinking about it. It was a chilling picture, but a fitting end, I thought grimly, and only wished it could have been made public.

‘You haven't heard any of this.'

‘Of course. But thanks … and thanks for telling me.'

‘Anything for a friend.'

I didn't tell Considine. Or Hao or Eric either, much as I would have liked to. I couldn't run the risk of incriminating Jack or his friends. Brian had quit the police, taking early retirement after a gruelling inquiry which had left him with little option and dashed any hopes he might have had of running security for the Sydney Olympics, as he had once hoped. Once a cop, I thought, always on the side of the law, and he might not have condoned such rough justice, however well-deserved. He had taken his fate philosophically and looked much happier than when I'd last seen him.

‘It was that or an office job for the rest of my days,' he said. ‘They offered me Human Resources, would you believe? I took the package. Human Resources indeed!'

‘Nothing wrong with Human Resources,' I said mildly.

He snorted. ‘For you maybe. Interviewing young women all day. I didn't fancy redrafting leave application forms for the rest of my life. Rather become a civilian.'

‘What are you going to do?'

‘Take a holiday, first. I'm taking Barbara and the girls overseas for a couple of months. God knows they deserve it, after putting up with me and my job for so long.'

‘Where are you going?'

‘Ireland, UK, France, Germany … stopping over in Vietnam on the way. See what the fuss was all about.' He paused. ‘When we get back I'd like to start my own security agency. Would you be interested?'

I half laughed.

‘Are you offering me a job? In my condition?'

‘I was thinking more of a partnership, actually. Why not? I could use someone with a brain. You could look after the Human Resources side. Seriously. Why don't you think about it?'

‘Thanks. I will. But not right now.'

‘We won't be back until September.' He looked at Hao, who turned at that moment to smile at me. There was a querying concern in her eye. I smiled back and shook my head gently. She wore a red
áo dài
she'd had specially made, over white trousers, with a flat red turban framing her head like a tiara. She looked ravishingly beautiful, like an exotic butterfly.

‘Now I can see why you made such a fuss,' he said quietly.

The ceremony was short and simple. A retired woman judge acted as marriage celebrant. We stuck in the main to traditional wording, with a few amendments. No mention of obeying, but much of cherishing. And until death do us part stayed in. When it came to the operative part I reached up and seized Eric's shoulder.

‘I need your strength,' I muttered.

With his help I stood up between him and Hao, with Nhan on her left. Nhan
in loco parentis
, but Eric very much
in loco
filii
, standing in for the young son she'd never had, lavishing her maternal love on him instead. I thought that they stood for others as well, who in an ideal world would also have been there, and perhaps were in a sense, hovering somewhere at the back: her father, and Hien, David, the father he'd never known. Even Khiem perhaps was also there, giving his ghostly assent to our union. I hoped so. I wished him no harm, wherever he was.

My back was on fire, but I kept my face still. I'd learnt a number of things over the past weeks. I'd learnt a new kind of love, passionate, demanding, but also generous, rich and complex and fulfilling, and endlessly exciting. I'd found someone I'd be proud to claim as a son. I'd lost one friend but found another, and possibly would have found one in Quang as well if he'd been allowed to live.

I'd also learnt something valuable about myself. I didn't think I was especially brave. What I had done in that corridor had been an act of desperation rather than courage. But now I knew that if I'd been on that boat I wouldn't have stood back. I would have tried to defend her and Hien, whatever the cost, even if it had killed me. I hadn't told her that, but I knew she knew it too. And that, I thought, was worth all the pain in my back.