I may or may not be there in time, she thought.
Hope so.
The last letter was to be delivered by hand. It said: My dear Admiral Ketterer, I know it was only through your kindness that we were married. I thank you from the depths of my heart and swear, whatever power this poor woman may have in the future, that I will use it in or out of Struan's to wipe out all sales of opium and equally dastardly arms sales to natives as my husband had sworn to do.
Again, with all my heartfelt affection, Angelique Struan.
Signing Angelique Struan pleased her very much. The two names went well together. It was enjoyable to practice the signature, the swirl of the S somehow helping her to think.
My scheme with Edward, where on earth did all those lovely ideas come from? It's excellent--if he does it as I want. That should convince Tess I'm not an enemy. But her son was her son and I wouldn't forgive, not if he had been my son, I don't think I would.
The way ahead's fraught with disaster, so much to go wrong, can go wrong, Andr`e's still a slavering dog waiting to be muzzled, or put down--yet, in truth, so many ways to go right--the correct coffin is en route, Malcolm's ready and waiting for tomorrow, I can still go to Hong Kong by mail ship if I want, I'm sure Edward wants to marry me and he of all people understands a rich wife is better than a poor one, I have Malcolm's blank chits and his chop that no one knows about--and twenty-eight days to go and not like last time, Blessed Mother, thanks be to Merciful God--I pray for his child.
Ah Malcolm, Malcolm, what a good life we would have had, you and I, I would have grown up without all the awfulness, I swear I would have.
Making an effort she shook off her melancholy and rang the bell on the desk. The door opened without a polite knock, any form of knock. "Missee?"
"Tai-tai, Ah Soh!" she snapped, ready for her.
"Missee-tai-tai?"
"Send Chen here, chop chop."
"You eat here, down'stair, Missee? Er, Missee tai-tai?"
Angelique sighed at the permutations Ah Soh could find to avoid calling her tai-tai.
"Listen, you piece of donkey dung," she said to her sweetly, "I'm stronger than you and soon I'll be paying the bills and then you will sweat," and was happy to see the dark eyes in the flat face cross. As Malcolm had explained, speaking in correct English directly at Ah Soh, not pidgin, that the maid could not understand would make her lose face. Such twisted logic these Chinese, Angelique thought. "Chen, chop chop!"
Ah Soh shuffled off sullenly. When Chen came in she told him she wanted a letter delivered to the British Embassy. He nodded without comment. "Chen, Ah Tok sick, not sick, heya?"
"Ah Tok sick. Ah Tok gone Hong Kong." Chen waved a hand seawards. "All same along Master."
"Oh!" Angelique was greatly relieved and wished she had thought of that first.
Several times she had seen her skulking in the shadows, her black eyes filled with hatred, saliva dribbling from the corner of her mouth. She gave him Ketterer's letter. "Go Big House, now."
He glanced at the name, pretending to be able to read the barbarian. "Eat all same this place, heya?"
"Tai-tai eat all same this place, heya? Tai-tai!"
Chen's eyes flickered. His mouth smiled.
"Tai-tai, eat all same this place, heya?
Tai-tai Missee?"
"You're a piece of donkey dung too.
Perhaps I'll dismiss you--no that would be too kind.
I'll think about you later." She smiled. "Eat downstair'. What food have?"
"Wat you wan' tai-tai Missee, Missee tai-tai?"
This made her laugh and she felt better for it.
"Missee tai-tai, tai-tai Missee, all same good. What food? Your food, Chinese food," she said suddenly, not knowing why. "All same you-ah, Chen. China food, Number One food. Best, heya!"
Chen gaped at her. This was most unusual. In the past she would just pick at the dishes the Master enjoyed to please him, and eat European dishes, meats and potatoes and pies and bread that he and all Chinese considered fit only for animals.
"Master's food, heya?" he asked tentatively.
"Tai-pan food for Master's tai-tai!"
Imperiously, aping Malcolm, she waved him away and turned her back.
Chen, unsettled, and went off mumbling.
"All same tai-pan, hav got, yes Missee tai-tai."
I must develop a taste for Chinese food and knowledge of it, she thought, grasping a new idea. In case I stay part of the year. Jamie said he likes Chinese cooking occasionally, Phillip's enthusiastic and Edward eats it all the time...
Ah Edward, Edward-of-so-many-faces, and possibilities. I'm not sure about him. If ...
If I bring forth a son I will be so happy that I've part of Malcolm forever. I'll go back to Paris for then I'll have plenty of money, plenty. Tess Struan will be glad to have me leave and our son will be brought up part French, part British, and be worthy of his father. If a daughter, I'll leave too, with less, but there will be more than enough. Until I meet a title worthy and a man worthy.
If I'm unlucky and there's no child, then I may consider Edward, while negotiating with that woman for my widow's mite, all this subject to Heavenly Skye being wrong.
Wrong about how vindictive and ruthless that woman is.
Saturday, 13th December
Saturday, 13th December: The next day the sea was the same grey, the sky the same grey but the storm had blown itself out.
Rain had stopped. Angelique, Skye and Hoag were waiting in the cabin of the cutter, still moored to the Struan jetty and long overdue to leave for Kanagawa. Beyond the bay they could see whitecaps. Gloom, fed by the sharp wet wind, made waiting harder. Jamie and the Reverend Tweet were half an hour late.
"I wish they'd hurry," she said, nervousness creeping into her resolve. "What's keeping them?"
"We won't have to go too far out so we should still be all right," Skye said queasily, the cutter heaving gently. The men wore top hats and sweaters and heavy topcoats--Angelique her dark green riding clothes and boots as more suitable for shipboard travel.
Above the cabin was the small, glassed-in wheelhouse. Bosun Tinker leant on the sill of one of the opened windows, puffing a pipe, too seawise to ask questions. Jamie McFay had simply said, "Have the cutter at the wharf early with a full load of coal, just you and a dependable stoker." That was enough for him. The rest would come soon enough, like why sensible people wanted to put to sea on a day when sensible seafarers were best ashore.
"Look, there he is!" Skye said, and cursed without noticing he had done so.
Jamie was alone, hurrying along High Street towards them. Passersby greeted him, frowned and went about their business. He jumped aboard and closed the cabin door. "Tweet's changed his mind," he said, his chest heaving like the deck.
"God damn the fellow, why--he agreed?"
Skye was disgusted. With Jamie they had decided the best story was to say that a Christian fisherman had died in Kanagawa and had begged to have a sea burial, would he officiate, the rest could come later. There would be a contribution for his trouble.
"He said not in this weather," Jamie said, panting from his haste and frustration. "I tried every way to convince him but he only said, "The fellow's dead, tomorrow or the next day will be just as good, weather's dicey, we probably wouldn't be back before dark--I'd forgotten Lunkchurch's dinner party. After service tomorrow, or even better Monday." Rotten bastard!" He took another breath. "Rotten after he'd agreed."