‘Don’t worry, I will.’
I looked down at my hands where she held them. I wanted to tell her how much it meant to meet her, what it felt like to talk to her, how special she was. I wanted to thank her. But I couldn’t find the words. I looked up at her in desperation, to find her smiling at me.
‘It’s all right,’ she said, ‘I understand.’
I climbed into the van and sat next to Simone.
Mr Chen came out of the house, stood in front of Ms Kwan, and smiled down at her.
‘Let me know if you see any more of them,’ she said.
‘I will. Go back to your garden, Lady.’
‘I certainly will. All of this is much too elaborate for me.’
She raised her arms and sighed theatrically. ‘Ah, the sacrifices I make for you, Ah Wu.’
He stayed perfectly still, watching her. Then he fell to one knee before her and held his hands clasped in front of his chest in the Chinese salute.
Leo gasped.
Ms Kwan stamped her foot. ‘Ah Wu! If you ever do that to me again I will not speak to you for a hundred years.’
He rose and saluted her again.
Her voice trembled as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. ‘You are a silly old man.’
‘I know. I will see you in eight months.’ He climbed into the van and closed the door. ‘Let’s go.’
I glanced back through the rear window of the van as we pulled away. She was gone.
It was a short hop from Paris to the UK. A driver with a stretch limousine waited for us at Gatwick.
Leo and I sat facing the rear, and Mr Chen and Simone sat across from us, facing the driver. It was a crush with Mr Chen’s long legs and Leo’s huge mass and I understood why Mr Chen usually ordered a van.
Simone slept in the car, but Mr Chen seemed full of energy. He looked ten years younger after seeing Ms Kwan, nearly the same age as me. Whatever it was that she’d done to him, it had worked.
‘Leo, do you think you will be all right without me tomorrow?’ he said. ‘If you and Emma take Simone to the Science Museum?’
‘Should be okay, Mr Chen. There’ll be plenty of people around everywhere we go,’ Leo said.
‘They only come after you when there aren’t people around?’ I said.
Both Leo and Mr Chen nodded.
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Good.’
They stared at me.
‘Why good?’ Leo said.
‘Because if we always make sure there are plenty of people around, Simone will be safe,’ I said. ‘Obvious.’
Leo and Mr Chen shared a look.
‘Where are you planning to go, Mr Chen?’ I went on. Leo dug me in the ribs and I yelped. I rounded on him. ‘What?’
‘You ask too many questions,’ Leo said.
‘The hell I do. You’re always keeping me in the dark. I need to know what’s going on.’ I gestured towards Simone, who was sleeping on Mr Chen’s lap. ‘For example, now I know that she’s safer with more people around, I can make sure we’re always in busy places.’
Leo chuckled and shook his head.
‘I want to go to Cambridge and meet up with some of my old postgrad colleagues,’ Mr Chen said. ‘It’s been a long time.’
‘You studied at Cambridge?’ I said, and yelped when Leo dug me in the ribs again. I slapped his arm. ‘Cut it out!’
‘Leo, I think I am capable of telling Miss Donahoe if I do not wish to answer her questions,’ Mr Chen said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘I have a PhD from Cambridge. I did it about…’ He paused, thinking. ‘Thirty years ago, I think. I had to rewrite the thesis six times before they’d accept it. I nearly gave up.’
‘Thirty years ago? How old were you when you did it?’
His face shifted until he seemed younger, in his mid-twenties. ‘I was about twenty-five when I studied there.’ He changed again, until he appeared in his mid-fifties. ‘I will be about fifty-five when I go back.’ He changed back to his mid-thirties.
Dear Lord, it was real. I was working for a god!
‘My Lord, that was an unnecessary waste of your energy,’ Leo said, irritated.
‘What?’ I said, glancing from Leo to Mr Chen.
Leo thrust his hand palm-up towards Mr Chen. ‘Throws his energy away all the time.’
I turned my attention back to Mr Chen. ‘Please don’t waste your energy on small things.’
‘Oh come on,’ Mr Chen said. ‘You should have seen the look on your face.’ He smiled at me and his eyes wrinkled up. I felt a rush of affection for him, then pushed it away. Only around for a limited time, and not even human. No chance.
‘What was your PhD in?’ I said.
‘Comparative literature. I compared the stories surrounding the English King Arthur with the stories surrounding me. It was fascinating to draw the parallels – the stories become more embroidered and elaborate as time passes. My supervisor had never even heard of me, he hadn’t done much Chinese literature. He said I was very interesting.’
I choked back the laugh. ‘I’d love to read it.’
‘It’s in my study somewhere.’
‘Oh geez, I’ll never see it then.’ I rounded on Leo before he could dig me in the ribs again and shoved him. ‘Cut it out!’
Mr Chen chuckled. ‘You’ve family here in England, don’t you?’
‘Yes, a big sister. Moved to England with her husband about ten years ago. I haven’t seen her in ages.’
‘If you would like to take some time to visit her, you can,’ Mr Chen said.
‘No, thanks.’
‘You should see your family, Emma.’
‘Maybe next time.’
‘Very well, but next time you will see them.’
I sighed. ‘Okay.’
‘What’s the matter – problems with your family?’ Leo said.
‘None of your business.’
‘Suit yourself.’ He looked away. ‘At least I know when not to ask questions.’
‘Bastard,’ I said under my breath. ‘I heard that,’ he said, a low rumble.
Simone woke as we were passing Hyde Park in Kensington and watched the scenery with delight.
The limousine stopped in a quiet leafy side street outside a white four-storey townhouse with towering ground-floor windows.
A caricature of an English butler waited at the front door: mid-fifties, bow tie, the whole works. The driver opened the door for us and Simone ran to the butler and threw herself into his arms. She kissed him quickly, then pulled herself free and ran into the house.
‘Help the others with the bags, James,’ Mr Chen said, walking up the stairs to the entry.
James came down the stairs to the boot of the car.
Leo stopped in front of him. ‘I don’t need your help, Mr O’Brien.’