The Night Tiger(114)
“Anyway, you’ll be discharged today.”
Most likely William will take him back at the end of the day. At least, that’s what Ren thinks.
Dr. Chin gives him a curious glance. “Better check that he didn’t go home early. I heard he was first on the … scene this morning.”
The nurse says, “No, he’s working.” A look passes between them.
“And Miss Lydia?”
At that moment, Lydia herself appears in the open ward doorway. There’s no color in her lips and her hair is flattened on one side as though she’s been resting in an office, which indeed she has.
“Did you want me?” she says, hearing her name. “Need any help?”
“Oh! I heard you were there when the accident happened,” the nurse says to her. “It must have been horrible.”
“Yes. My father’s coming to pick me up soon. I’m not quite up to driving myself,” she says with a grimace. There are sympathetic, half-admiring nods at her foreign fortitude. Someone has draped a light, cotton shawl over her shoulders, but it doesn’t hide the thin splatter of red brown on her blouse. Ren stares at it, cat sense tingling. Death covers her blouse, speckles her skirt, and he feels dizzy with horror. Yet despite her pallid face, Lydia is full of nervous energy.
She comes and sits down next to Ren. “Goodness, you look so much better!”
“Yes.” He drops his eyes. Does nobody else see the blood on her? But it is very little, just a few splashes. To Ren’s invisible feelers, however, a sticky grey web clings to her. He doesn’t know what it means, only that he shrinks from her awkward friendliness. Is it bravery or something else that narrows the pupils of her eyes—fear or excitement?
“I meant to pass this to you,” says Lydia, taking something out of her purse. “Will you be seeing your friend Louise again?”
Ren is momentarily confused—who’s Louise? Then he remembers it’s the other name for his girl in blue. Not knowing what to say, he nods.
“Could you give this to her?”
Ren flinches. It’s a small glass bottle. The same kind that the withered finger came in, except this one is filled with a tea-colored liquid. Of course, this is a hospital, and Lydia volunteers here. It isn’t surprising that she’d have the same kind of container.
“What is it?”
“Stomach medicine I promised her last time,” she says.
Ren recalls the conversation between Lydia and Ji Lin, something about women being troubled once a month and how unfair it is. Obediently, he pockets the bottle, then recalls Dr. MacFarlane’s rules for medication. “Should I label it with a dosage?”
“Just tell her to take all of it if she has a stomachache. It’s a mild tonic; I take it myself. But don’t mention it to anyone else—it might embarrass her.” Smiling, she gets up to go.
Ren stares after her, wondering how nobody else senses the pall that clings to Lydia’s retreating back. It’s like an invisible shroud or cocoon, those fine filaments spun out of nothing. Lydia has apparently cheated death this morning. But from the looks of it, she’s not unscathed.
46
Falim
Sunday, June 28th
My mother’s face, already haggard, turned even paler when I told her. She closed her eyes for a long moment.
“But I was only dancing. Really. I never did anything else.”
I’d decided to confess my dance-hall work since Robert might spill the beans at any moment. There was nothing I could do about my stepfather’s reaction, but it was better if she, at least, were prepared.
“So if you hear anything from other people, you mustn’t be shocked. Though there’s a good chance it will never come up.” I spoke with false confidence. “And Mrs. Tham, of course, doesn’t know.”
I was afraid that she’d start berating me for making such a stupid decision, but she only looked sad. “Was it to help pay off my debt?”
I hesitated, but there was no point denying it. “I’ve quit already. So you don’t have to worry.”
Her face twisted. “It was wrong of me to involve you—you mustn’t do things like this anymore. I’ll tell your stepfather about the money.”
“He’ll be furious! Besides, Shin said he’d help.”
“I don’t want you to worry about it. It’s not your burden.” She bit her lip. “Is that why Robert won’t be coming—because he found out?”
“No. I’m the one who doesn’t want to see him.”
“But why? He’s a good man, Ji Lin, if in spite of all that—”
“It’s not right, since I don’t care for him.”
“You could learn!” She stopped, realizing that she’d raised her voice. Then low and insistent. “Don’t miss this chance, Ji Lin. It will make a huge difference—you’ll regret it the rest of your life if you let him go!”
I’d never heard my mother so assertive and, frankly, it shocked me. I shook my head. “It’s not an option for me.”
“Then make it an option. Don’t be so proud!”
It wasn’t pride that was holding me back, but I could never tell her.
“Is there someone else?” she said sharply.