The Last Rose of Shanghai(42)
“If I wanted to, I would have accepted Sassoon’s proposal, and I wouldn’t have come here.”
“But you don’t want to. Listen to yourself, Aiyi.”
I sighed. Unwilling as I was to give up Sassoon’s money, I saw I had no choice. “But I’m desperate for Sassoon’s protection. What should I do when Yamazaki returns? I have to turn Ernest in, or Yamazaki will seize my business.”
She picked up a velvet dress and peered at herself in the mirror. “Now you’re making sense, Aiyi. You need to figure out a plan to protect your business and your man. Maybe you can make a counterproposal asking for Sassoon’s protection of your business.”
That was a good idea. If he became a shareholder of my club, my business would be a joint venture protected by the SMC law, and Yamazaki couldn’t do anything about it. “But there’s no way Sassoon will help me if I reject him. He’ll be so angry. He’ll never talk to me again.”
“No doubt about that. He’s vengeful. He ostracized me after I left him. He’ll do the same to you, unless you give him what he wants.”
What he wants. “He wants nude photos.”
“He has mine.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Why not? It’s my body.”
What a woman—free, open, independent, the owner of her body and soul. Could I ever be like her?
“He’s quite a photographer, Aiyi. I’m not ashamed of it. It’s not pornography. It’s only pornography in the eyes of a dirty man. And I was beautiful in those photos; you should see them. I was young, attractive, and charming. Now look at me.” She dropped the dress, cupped her drooping breasts, and her voice was veiled with sadness again. “This tired flesh, this decaying mind, this soulless body of an old woman.”
“The great smoke did this to you, Emily.” I seized the opportunity.
She didn’t look pleased, like all the addicts who refused to hear the truth. “Our conversation is over, Aiyi. Do whatever you like. Leave me alone now.”
I went to the door. “I know you won’t like it when I say this, but you must stop smoking, Emily. You’re an extraordinary woman. Don’t let opium take control of your mind. Think about it. I’ll give you the contact information of the physician who treated my father. I’ll leave it in the kitchen.”
She stared at me. Those dark eyes, perceptive.
I went back and gave her a hug, which I had rarely done to a foreigner. Emily didn’t respond at first, and then slowly, her arms held mine and she pulled me closer.
In my courtyard, I had just gotten out of my Nash when I heard Peiyu call me into the reception room. She was holding the baby, sitting on a rosewood chair.
“Come, come, Aiyi. I need to ask you something. Let me get her settled. My breasts are like rocks and she won’t latch on.” Peiyu, the puritan who buttoned her clothes up to her chin, flipped open her tunic and presented two giant breasts. For someone who had six children, Peiyu had impressive assets, perfectly round, much larger than mine. How weird. For my entire life I saw women cover themselves to their necks, and in one day two women revealed themselves before me. “Did you post the invitations?”
“What invitations? Oh, yes. I posted them.” I had completely forgotten about them.
“Then I don’t understand. The concubines’ families said they didn’t receive them. I’d rather they not come, such pests as they are, but it seems not a single relative has an invitation. It has been more than six months. They should have received them by now.”
“It’s the Japanese. They suspended the mail.” Sinmay had entered the room.
“What are we going to do, husband?”
“Send another batch.” He stopped beside me and sniffed. “Were you smoking?”
“What? No. I went to see Emily. She was smoking.”
He frowned. “Why did you go see her? Leave her alone.”
“Will you order your factory to print new invitations, husband?” Peiyu lifted the satiated baby off her chest; her previously perfect, giant breast had become a distant memory.
“After I pay the workers’ wages.” Then he went to my Nash and pulled up his long robe to get in. His own car had run out of gasoline, so he needed to borrow mine, he said.
“The wedding is coming up in two months, husband!”
“It looks like we need to postpone it,” I said, and hurried to my room.
32
ERNEST
Two weeks later, Ernest was walking down the sidewalk at the waterfront when he heard the drone of a plane overhead. It was a Japanese fighter with the red rising sun logo. The aircraft turned above the river and circled over the majestic Shanghai Club building with its twin Baroque-style domes, where the municipal council members and other powerful businessmen held their meetings. Before he figured out what was going on, the streets around him seemed to convulse. The cars swerved on the street, horns blasting; people ran amok, screaming.
In front of the building, a group of Japanese soldiers were shouting, their bayonets pointed at several policemen kneeling on the pavement. Jyo was among them, his arms behind his back in surrender. From the building stomped more Japanese soldiers accompanying dozens of businessmen in suits. Ernest spotted Sir Sassoon, his walking stick stabbing the ground, hobbling at such a fast pace that he almost tripped.