Authors: Danielle Steel
The distance from Istanbul to Shanghai was more than five thousand miles, and if the trip went absolutely splendidly Charles estimated it would take them somewhere in the vicinity of fourteen days. The articles he had been commissioned to write centered around Chiang Kai-shek's government, seated in Nanking. There was also a piece about Shanghai as a demilitarized zone, another about Peking, and they were hoping he would get some material on the Communist revolutionaries who had taken to the hills in 1928. He already had copious notes, and his credentials were certainly very good, but it was difficult to say how accessible his subjects were. The Communist bandits certainly were not, and it was unlikely Charles would even be able to contact them, but hopefully Chiang Kai-shek would be willing to see Charles once he contacted him. And of course, any random ideas Charles had along the way could be spun into articles later on. He took careful notes and always had a briefcase full of notebooks and papers with him. He explained his system to Audrey as they rode the train to Ankara late that night. She felt as though she had embarked on a whole new life with this man, and in many ways she had. She was even more sure of it when they changed trains in Ankara, and she suddenly began to laugh remembering the Orient Express. It seemed totally incongruous now, as she boarded another train behind two women carrying two live chickens and a small goat. The mail train they took in Ankara took them past Lake Van, and Lake Urmia on the Persian border and across the mountains until they reached Tehran. There, the station was busy and crowded and people were chattering everywhere, as Audrey stared in fascination at them and used the Leica nonstop, while Charlie bought them tickets on the night mail to Mashhad in the northeast corner of the country, about a hundred miles from the Afghanistan border. Mashhad was a holy city and almost everyone who traveled on the train did so on their knees, in posture of devotion.
The women in the Tehran station were interesting-looking and some were beautiful, and all of them were fascinated with her, even in the simple clothes she had worn. But they stared at her, and two young girls had even touched her red hair and had then run away, giggling behind their veils. It was a whole new world to her, and she was suddenly the object of fascination and obvious disapproval because she did not wear a veil like the local women.
They traveled to Mashhad all that night and then south into Afghanistan, and it seemed to take forever before they reached Kabul. They had traveled more than two thousand miles by then and had been on the road for a week, and Audrey thought she would go mad if she ever saw another train, and yet, somehow as she looked around, and saw the tranquil beauty around her as the sun went down, and the peasants who had traveled with them left the station with their goatskin pouches full of the little they owned, she thought that she had never been happier. She stood in the sunset for a moment looking at Charles, and saw that he was smiling at her. They were both grimy and tired, and they hadn't been able to bathe for four days, but somehow neither of them seemed to care. He put an arm around her and carried one of her three bags for her, laughing as she juggled the elegant vanity case she hadn't touched in over a week now.
I imagine it's not quite what you thought, is it, love? He worried now and then that it would be too much for her, but she seemed to be having a wonderful time and she was a very good sport, even when the train had derailed in the Nanga Parbat Pass and they had to walk some ten miles, she never complained. There wasn't another woman alive he could imagine traveling like this with. Do you have many regrets?
Not one, she beamed up at him. It was exactly what she had hoped it would be, wild and uncomfortable and beautiful, and a world the way God had intended it to be, without a skyscraper in sight, or a paved street or a horn to be heard. It was beautiful, all of it, and that night as they lay on the crooked little bed in the hotel that Charles knew, she ran a hand gently along Charles's inner thigh and he sighed happily as he turned over and made love to her.
What are you doing here, crazy girl? He smiled sleepily afterward. They were a long way from the rococo luxuries of even the Pera Palas in Istanbul, and Cap d'Antibes and the Hawthornes and their friends seemed to be part of another lifetime, but Audrey wanted nothing more than this, a narrow bed in an empty room and a strange world outside, discovering it all as she lay beside the man she loved night after night.
Charles? ' They were both half asleep as she cuddled up to him, feeling as though she had done this all her life.
Mmm? '
I've never been happier in my life. She had told him a thousand times by now, but she had to tell him once more, and he smiled as he drifted off to sleep, whispering to her.
Crazy girl ' now get some sleep ' . They had to get up at six o'clock the next day, and when they did, they were given goat's milk and a piece of cheese, before they hurried down the street to catch yet another train. This time they traveled to Islamabad and then straight into Kashmir. They arrived at noon, and for once the journey wasn't bad, although the train looked very old. But it took them all the way to Ladakh Pass, and it was four in the morning when they got there at last, and Audrey was asleep in Charlie's arms as he looked up at the stars with a feeling of peace. The train had stalled twice, but they hadn't been asked to get out, and it had made it all the way to eighteen thousand feet and now it was slowly making the descent again. They were finally in Tibet and they had another eight hundred miles to go before they were to reach Lhasa and could rest for a day. Charlie knew the trip well. He estimated that from Ladakh Pass to Lhasa would take them roughly two days. As it turned out, it took three, and they were both exhausted when they finally reached Lhasa. They had been on the road for ten days and they were two thirds of the way to Shanghai, but at this point in the trip it always felt as though one would never get there. Charlie took her to the inn where he always stayed, perched on a mountaintop, with orange-robed monks visible everywhere, walking slowly along side by side, chanting or in silence. One felt closer to God here, and it was so remote that it was impossible to imagine that there was another world beyond this. It was almost a mystical experience just being there. Audrey stood by the window for a long, long time, thinking of her father, and wondering if he had ever been, there. She mentioned it to Charles later on, as they ate a simple dinner of rice and bean soup by candlelight. And she wasn't hungry afterward. She had been too hungry to care what they ate, which was just as well because she learned later that the tiny slivers of meat in her soup had actually been snake. She made a horrible face at Charles and he laughed at her as she collapsed into bed, and then she looked at him pensively.
I find myself wondering sometimes, if there had been pictures of this place or that in the albums I loved so much. Suddenly all of that is a blur, and this is so much more real. She had written to her grandfather the day before, trying to explain her travels to him, and the reason why she'd come. But there seemed to be nothing to say now. This was so much more real and that seemed so terribly far away. She was also conscious of the fact that this was the first time she had ever let them down, and she was worried about that. She had in her mind that Annabelle's baby was due in March, and she would be home long before then to take care of everything for her. She still felt guilty at times, but she would make it all up to them when she went back. And Charles was probably right too, they would punish her a little bit for a while. But they could do anything they wanted to her now. She had had it all, as far as she was concerned. And she felt tears sting her eyes as they left Lhasa on muleback and then by train. They had a long way to go this time. They were going a thousand miles, across the Tahsueh Mountains to Chungking. The trip took more than thirty hours on an ancient little train, and they only had time to change trains once before they reached Chungking, but suddenly Audrey was aware of a change. The weather was much cooler here, and the people looked and acted and dressed differently. She was surprised to see so many men smoking cigarettes, and even some women too, little old gnarled people smoking butts and squinting at her and Charles through their smoke as they exhaled. There seemed to be more of them suddenly, and they weren't as friendly as some of the other people they had met on their trip. She noticed it particularly as she took roll after roll of film. They stared at her endlessly, and as they boarded the train to take them to Wuhan, a group of children ran up to her and touched her sleeve as she focused her Leica. But when she turned to smile at them, they ran away in shrieks. Charles was juggling their bags, and they were both exhausted by the previous night's train ride, and he fell asleep almost the moment they settled into the new train, his head on her shoulder, and snoring softly, as the other five people in the compartment stared openly at her. Everything seemed to be so much more crowded here, and much busier. There was an entirely different feeling than there had been in Turkey and Tibet. That had been more rugged, more primitive, more natural, and this was more populous, more foreign in some ways. They were much more interested in her than they had been almost anywhere, and she was dying to ask Charles all about it when he finally woke up. He yawned and stretched as best he could, although there was almost no room for his legs, and he was grateful for each station where they stopped. He would get out with Audrey for a few minutes to stretch his legs.
It was an all-day journey from Chungking to Wuhan and they passed a huge reservoir on the way, but this time Audrey was asleep and Charlie was busily writing in one of his notebooks. They had one more day's journey before they were to reach Nanking, and he was hoping to see Chiang Kai-shek there. He had a lot to think about now, the questions he wanted to ask, the tack he would take. He would be very lucky if he could see him at all. Or perhaps they would let him cool his heels for three weeks. Maybe not if the credentials Charles carried from his publisher impressed someone, or they had heard of one of his books, but Charlie's hopes weren't high, and he was only willing to wait around for a week before moving on to Shanghai. He had a lot to do there as well, and he always loved going there.
When they reached Wuhan, they went to a small hotel. It only had three rooms, but Charlie had stayed there once before, and they only offered the travelers some rice and green tea, but Audrey looked into the bowl ruefully and then grinned at him with a shrug. It was the first time she had really desperately missed Western food, and she would have given her right arm for a steak or a hamburger, and she found herself dreaming of a chocolate milk shake as her stomach growled when they went to bed.
Do you have any candy bars left? She turned to Charlie hopefully. Her passion for 3 Musketeers bars had had no indulgence in months, but Charlie had discovered some old candy bars somewhere before they'd left Italy and he had dragged them along for at least part of the trip, but he shook his head now.
I'm afraid not, my love. Do you want some more rice? I can try. I can tell him you're pregnant or something. He grinned and she threw up her hands.
Good Lord, don't do anything as desperate as that, Mr. Parker-Scott. I'll live. But I'm hungry as hell. She looked ruefully at him again and he gently ran his fingers tantalizingly from her neck to her breasts, and she forgot all of her hunger except that which was for him. They lay in the dark for a long time that night, talking and whispering, as he told her tales and bits of history about the cities they were going to see. He wasn't nearly as fond of Nanking as he was of Shanghai and Peking.
Shanghai is so incredible, Aud. There are British and French and Russians and now Japanese. It's a truly international place, and at the same time truly Chinese. I think it must be the most cosmopolitan city I know. And the Japanese hadn't affected it unduly. They had attacked and occupied it briefly almost two years before, early in '32 and now a demilitarized zone was fragilely in effect. Chiang Kai-shek had long before retreated to Nanking, and the 19th Route Army had resisted vigorously before being forced to give up. Chiang Kai-shek had lessened his war on the Communists now that he had the Japanese to worry about and Mao Tse-tung had all but disappeared from the immediate area. There were fewer allegedly Communist heads being speared on poles in the outer regions now. The Japanese presence had created an uneasy alliance between the Communists and the Nationalists. People had other things to think about now, particularly in Manchuria.
The next day as they boarded the train to Nanking, she felt a wave of excitement sweep over her. They were almost there. Their goal had been Nanking, Shanghai, and Peking, and they were only hours away now. She could hardly wait, and that night they slept at a hotel in Nanking, and earlier in the evening Charlie had gone to Chiang Kai-shek's residence to leave his credentials and his card and a very polite letter, begging for an audience with him. They learned at the hotel that George Bernard Shaw had been there earlier that spring on the way to Shanghai, and suddenly Audrey felt the same ripple of excitement again. She was loving what she saw, the crowds of people everywhere, the costumes, the food, the smells. They had eaten a royal repast at their hotel, it wasn't just rice and green tea here. And Charlie noticed that she had lost weight. They had been traveling for more than two weeks and they had come five thousand miles, for his work and her dream, and she thought she had never been as close to another human being and probably never would be again as they quietly strolled the street in front of the hotel that night watching rickshaws and a few stray cars. Audrey was ecstatic as they wandered some of the back streets, and inadvertently came upon a little house with dim lights inside, and a strange smell. She stopped, intrigued by the perfume that hung heavy in the air, and questioned Charlie who laughed when she suggested they go inside.
I think not, old girl. He smiled at her.