The Last Rose of Shanghai(39)

Sassoon often came to listen to the music with a gaggle of Russian showgirls dressed in scanty, shimmering costumes. They were stunning, their glances sensual heat, their limbs dazzling sweeps; men in the bar gulped and stared. Sassoon showered the women with lavish gifts: perfume bottles, fur coats, leather bags, and chocolate. At midnight, the group squeezed in the elevator while people sighed and whispered about Sassoon’s studio with its darkroom and the photos he took.

“What kind of photos do you take, sir?” Ernest asked him when he came to the bar again. He was beyond excited. Sassoon, a fellow photographer.

Sassoon looked guarded. “Nudes. Do you have a problem with that, young man?”

This was not the type of photos Ernest would take, but it was not his business to judge. “Which style do you explore? New Vision? Formalistic? Surrealist?”

“I hate Brassa?! The man is a butcher. You know about photography?”

“Only as an amateur. I brought my Leica, the best kind. I was hoping to show you. Would you like to see it?” He went to his bag near the bench, where he kept his camera. “I bought it in 1935.”

“Leica. Good camera, good company. I’ve always admired Leitz, an audacious man. Let me see.” Sassoon dug out a monocle from his pocket, put it on, and fondled the camera with apparent envy. “Finest thirty-five-millimeter camera. Viewfinder, range finder, and adjustable slow shutter speeds. There aren’t many cameras like this in Shanghai. I bought a few via mail order but never received them. With this camera, you can take the best pictures, Ernest.”

Ernest grinned. The fact that they had the same hobby somehow made him feel Sassoon was like a friend.





29


AIYI


Sassoon phoned me in the office. “Darling, I haven’t seen you for ages. How do you do?”

It was good to hear his voice. He had called me a few times since my club grew popular; each time we spoke, I flinched at the possibility that he would mention nude photos again.

Sinmay had told some interesting stories about Sassoon lately. A Japanese officer from the Greater East Asia Co-prosperity Sphere, a new organization the Japanese government formed in an attempt to establish their vast economic power, had proposed a joint business venture with Sassoon, but he refused. Not only that, but Sassoon, who disliked the conquerors of my city, delivered scathing remarks about them. That drew rebuke from his fellow businessmen who believed a friendly relationship with the Japanese would benefit the Settlement. He didn’t back down and continued his blistering attack, annoying the Japanese, who had arrested two of his trusted men.

I said, “How wonderful to hear from you, Sir Sassoon. Indeed, it has been ages. Thank the gods of favorable winds for the phone. I hope you don’t miss me terribly. I would have called, you know, if I hadn’t been so busy with the club.”

His cultured voice carried a smile. “Darling, you’re so busy, you’re taking clients from Ciro’s. Are you aware? Your stride piano has been a sensation for months. How long will it last?”

“I’m afraid it’s already ended. Didn’t you hear? My pianist doesn’t work here anymore.” I longed to see Ernest again, to be lost in the bliss of his arms and forget about Yamazaki.

“Well, you must tell me all about it. Maybe you’d like to have some wine and a dinner in the Cathay Room?” He added that he had caviar, foie gras from Périgord, Persian figs, and California peaches.

I didn’t believe him. We all suffered a shortage of many goods and fresh fruit recently since the Japanese had banned many imported goods from entering the port. “This is a kind invitation, Sir Sassoon. I would love to have a treat. I shall be glad to phone you with a date.”

“You promise?”

“Have I ever lied?”

“Darling, as always, I have absolute faith in you. Now, I hear there’s trouble in your club with a Japanese official. I don’t know the details, but it’s appalling that those Japanese would threaten to seize your business. Are you rather distraught, I presume? But I’m confident you know how to deal with it.”

Word traveled fast. “To be honest, Sir Sassoon, I haven’t figured out what to do yet.”

“I have an easy solution for you. Marry me.”

This couldn’t have come at a worse time. “I’m sorry, Sir Sassoon. I’m not in the mood for a tease. I hope you’ll understand.”

“This is not a tease, darling. You marry me, you’ll have my protection, and your nightclub will be a British and Chinese joint enterprise, protected by the SMC’s law. The Japanese can’t touch you.”

Sassoon was right, but he didn’t know about Ernest. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”

“Let the Japanese have your club then. You walk away. It’s not worth dying for. If you marry me you’ll have my properties in Shanghai, all my assets: the hotel, the apartments, the transportation company, the cinemas, the racecourse. Everything.”

The solemnity in his voice. He was serious about the proposal, but it couldn’t be possible. Sassoon, a womanizer, would not propose to me. Blood rushed to my head. “As I mentioned, Sir Sassoon, you might want to tell me your joke another time.”

He sighed. “Have I given you the impression that I’m a frivolous man, darling? Lately, I’ve been thinking about this. I’m sixty years old. When you get to this age, few things matter. I’d like to marry you.”