She had lurched about unsteadily for the clothes they had bought for her when they had reached Tuen Mun the previous night, clothes purchased after Staples had taken her to a doctor who ministered to her feet, applying cushioned gauze, giving her hospital slippers and prescribing thick-soled trainers if she had to do any extended walking during the next few days. Actually, Catherine had picked out the clothes while Marie waited in the car, and considering the tension Staples was under, her selections were both functional and attractive. A light green sheer cotton skirt was complemented by a white cotton blouse and a small white-shelled bag. Also a pair of dark green slacks – shorts were inappropriate – and a second casual blouse. All were successful counterfeits of well-known designers, the labels correctly spelled.
They're very nice, Catherine. Thank you. '
They go with your hair,' Staples had said. 'Not that anyone in Tuen Mun will notice – I want you to stay in the flat – but we'll have to leave here some time. Also, in case I get stuck at the office and you need anything, I've put some money in the bag. '
'I thought I wasn't supposed to leave the flat, that we were going to pick up a few things at a market. '
'I don't know what's back in Hong Kong any more than you do. Lin could be so furious he might dig up an old colonial law and put me under house arrest... There's a shoe store in Blossom Soon Street. You'll have to go inside and try on the trainers yourself. I'll come with you, of course. '
Several moments had passed and Marie spoke. 'Catherine, how do you know so much about this place? I've yet to see another Occidental in the streets. Whose flat is it?'
'A friend's,' said Staples without further elaboration. There's no one using it a great deal of the time, so I come up here to get away from it all. ' Catherine had said no more; the subject was not to be explored. Even when they had talked for most of the night, no amount of prodding had brought forth any more information. It was a topic Catherine simply would not discuss.
Marie had put on the slacks and the white blouse and struggled with the outsized shoes. Cautiously, she had walked down the stairs and into the busy street, instantly aware of the stares she attracted, wondering whether she should turn around and go back inside. She could not; she was finding a few minutes of freedom from the stifling confines of the small apartment and they were like a tonic. She strolled slowly, painfully, down the pavement, mesmerized by the colour and the hectic movement and the unending, staccato chatter all around her. As in Hong Kong, garish signs rose everywhere above the buildings, and everywhere people haggled with one another alongside stands and in store-front doorways. It was as if a slice of the colony had been uprooted and set down on a vast frontier.
She had found an unfinished road at the end of a back street, the work apparently abandoned but only temporarily, as levelling machinery – unused and rusting – stood on the borders. Two signs in Chinese were on either side of the descending dirt. Taking each step carefully, she made her way down the steep decline to the deserted shoreline and sat on a cluster of rocks; the minutes of freedom were opening up precious moments of peace. She looked out and watched the boats sailing from the docks of Tuen Mun, as well as those heading in from the People's Republic. From what she could see the first were fishing craft, nets draped over bows and gunwales, while those from the Chinese mainland were mostly small cargo ships, their decks bulging with crates of produce – but not all. There were also the sleek, grey navy patrol boats flying the colours of the People's Republic. Ominous black guns were mounted on all sides of the various craft, uniformed men standing motionless next to them, peering through binoculars. Every now and then a naval vessel would pull alongside a fishing boat, provoking wildly excited gestures from the fishermen. Stoic responses were the replies as the powerful patrols slowly turned and slipped away. It was all a game, thought Marie. The North was quietly asserting its total control while the South was left to protest about its disturbed fishing grounds. The former had the strength of hard steel and a disciplined chain of command, the latter soft nets and perseverance. No one was the victor except those opposing sisters, Boredom and Anxiety.
'Jing-char shouted a male voice from behind in the distance.
'Sheir shrieked a second. 'Ni zai zher gan shemma?' Marie spun around. Two men up on the road had broken into a run; they were racing down the unfinished access towards her, their screams directed at her, commanding her. Awkwardly she got to her feet, steadying herself on the rocks as they ran up to her. Both men were dressed in some sort of paramilitary clothing, and as she looked at them she realized they were young – late teenagers, twenty at most.
Bu xing barked the taller boy, looking back up the hill and gesturing for his companion to grab her. Whatever it was, it was to be done quickly. The second boy pinned her arms from behind.
'Stop this!' cried Marie, struggling. 'Who are you?!' 'Lady speaks English,' observed the first young man. 'I speak English,' he added proudly, if unctuously. 'I worked for a jeweller in Kowloon. ' Again he glanced up at the unfinished road.
'Then tell your friend to take his hands off me!' The lady does not tell me what to do. I tell the lady. ' The young lad came closer, his eyes fixed on the swell of Marie's breasts under the blouse. 'This is forbidden road, a forbidden part of the shore. The lady did not see the signs?'
'I don't read Chinese. I'm sorry, I'll leave. Just tell him to let go of me. ' Suddenly Marie felt the body of the young man behind her pressing against her own. 'Stop it!' she yelled, hearing quiet laughter in her ear, feeling a warm breath on her neck.
'Is the lady to meet a boat with criminals from the People's Republic? Does she signal to men on the water?' The taller Chinese raised both his hands to Marie's blouse, his fingers on the top buttons. 'Is she concealing a radio perhaps, a signalling device? It is our duty to learn these things. The police expect it of us. '
'Goddamn you, take your hands off me!' Marie twisted violently, kicking out in front of her. The man behind pulled her back off her feet as the taller boy grabbed her legs, straddling them with his own and scissoring them. She could not move; her body was stretched taut diagonally up from the rocky beach, held firmly in place. The first Chinese ripped off her blouse and then her brassiere, cupping her breasts with both hands. She screamed and thrashed and screamed again until she was slapped and two fingers were pincered into her throat, cutting off all sound but muffled coughs. The nightmare of Ztirich came back to her – rape and death on the Guisan Quai.
They carried her to a stretch of tall grass, the boy behind clamping his hand over her mouth, then replacing it quickly with his right arm, cutting off the air and any screams she might have managed as he yanked her forward. She was thrown to the ground, one of her attackers now covering her face with his bare stomach as the other began pulling off her slacks and thrusting his hands between her legs. It was Zurich, and instead of writhing in the cold Swiss darkness there was the wet heat of the Orient; instead of the Limmat, another river, far wider, far more deserted; instead of one animal there were two. She could feel the body of the tall Chinese on top of her, thrusting in his panic, furious that he was not able to enter her, her thrashing repelling his assault. For an instant the boy across her face reached under his trousers to his groin – there was a brief moment of space and for Marie the world went mad! She sunk her teeth into the flesh above her, drawing blood, feeling the sickening flesh in her mouth.