The Night Tiger(97)
My heart gave a startled leap. But she was referring to Robert, of course. I listened with half an ear as she chattered on about how kind he was.
“Yes,” I said nodding, thinking that I’d have to rely on that kindness quite soon. Shame flooded me. Surely Robert wouldn’t turn me away if I asked to borrow money? It was quite different from accepting a pot of chicken soup. So many things had gone wrong recently that I felt sick with worry. And what had Ren meant by only two days left?
* * *
The next morning, I let myself quietly out and returned to Ipoh, explaining to my mother that I was helping Mrs. Tham finish a dress. “A rush order,” I said, though the real reason was that I’d promised the Mama I’d sub in for a last shift at the May Flower.
It was past lunchtime by the time I reached Mrs. Tham’s. “So here you are!” she said, without any preamble. “I thought you were going to be in Falim all weekend.”
“I’m helping a friend out,” I said guiltily.
Luckily Mrs. Tham wasn’t interested as she was bursting with news of her own. “Your brother came looking for you. Him and also that young man.”
“What young man?”
“The one who drove you home the other night. Robert, you said his name was.”
Why on earth were Robert and Shin looking for me? They were an unlikely pair; they didn’t even get along.
“First your brother stopped by and then as he was leaving, that Robert came too. I told them you’d gone back home.”
“Did they say what they wanted?”
“No, your brother said he had to meet someone.” Mrs. Tham drew a little closer. “Are you going steady with that Robert?”
“We’re just friends.”
She gave me a disbelieving look; I could hardly blame her. Robert and his enormous boat of a car attracted attention. Most girls in my position would probably be over the moon.
“If I finish early, I might go back to Falim tonight,” I said.
“All right.” Mrs. Tham waved cheerfully as I left. That was the advantage of having two places to stay over—you could always claim you were somewhere else. I needed at least a day or so if I was going to do what I had planned.
* * *
In the dim back corridor at the May Flower, the Mama stopped me and pressed an envelope into my hand. It made a lovely fat crinkling sound. “They paid up for the private party. Well, Kiong went to collect it from that red-haired doctor. It’s your share, plus the back pay that you’re owed. Cleaned out your things already?”
“Almost.”
I kept a spare frock in the dressing room, which I planned to wear today. All of us girls did, just in case there was a rip or spill. Feeling pensive, I hurried down the corridor with its peeling mint-green paint. Hui was in the dressing room patting rouge on her cheeks. She did Saturdays from afternoon all the way through the evening shift.
“You on today?” She looked surprised.
“She asked me to help out,” I said, struggling with my dress.
“Here, I’ll help you.” Hui deftly unhooked me. I must tell her soon that I’d quit, but it didn’t seem like the right time now, not when we were rushing to get ready.
* * *
I’d never worked a Saturday afternoon before; it was crowded and the band played more local dances like joget. The music was cheerful, and forgetting my worries briefly, I quite enjoyed it, though I didn’t see any of my regulars. I’d miss this: the waxed dance floor, the sweating faces of the band members whom I now knew well enough to nod and smile at as we went by. The smell of cigarettes and sweat, my aching calves, and Hui’s bitingly funny remarks. As I slid into the cordoned-off dancers’ pen after a turn with a plump government clerk, I felt a stab of regret. Perhaps I shouldn’t quit after all.
I knew only a few of the other girls today since we were usually on different shifts, but Anna had come in. I hadn’t seen her since the night of the private party.
“I saw something good just now.” Anna always had a sleepy, heavy air about her and today it made her tall figure somehow more voluptuous.
“What?”
“A really handsome fellow. He was waiting outside for a friend. I made him promise to dance with me when he came in.”
The other girls giggled. I listened with half an ear.
“What do you mean by really handsome? You’re always saying that!”
“But he was! He might be an actor from Singapore or Hong Kong.”
There was a lot of eye-rolling, but we were all rather curious, myself included. Many Chinese opera stars were bombarded with love letters, home-cooked meals, and money from frenzied female fans. The only person I knew who looked as though he ought to be in pictures was Shin. Then a dreadful thought occurred to me: perhaps it was Shin.
“He was tall, with nice shoulders. Narrow hips,” said Anna, “And he had this northern Chinese look, with a high nose and cheekbones.”
Alarm was spreading; a swarm of fire ants pouring down my back.
“Look, there he is!”
My stomach plummeted. It was indeed Shin—and with him were Robert and Y. K. Wong. The three of them threaded their way through the crowd, Y. K. Wong leading them. His narrow face with its elongated jaw was alert as he searched the faces of the girls. Our eyes met. I had nothing, not even a fan, to block his triumphant gaze from where I sat, a large rosette and number pinned to my breast, like merchandise for sale. Panicked, I willed my frozen legs to jump up. A dull roaring rose in my ears as they came closer. Even if Y. K. Wong had spotted me, it meant nothing as long as Robert and Shin didn’t. Run!