me, telling me stories about her days at school, as well as her time in the kitchen, which she seemed to enjoy more. But even with her animated face in front of me, I couldn’t stop the images from those ten hours on the boat from flashing through my brain. I was unable to make sense of them, still feeling desperately unwell after the quantities of strong substances I’d consumed with Red. The champagne. The Pegu Clubs. The opium that had caused my nausea. That awful tar was still coating my lungs, I was sure of it. But one image that never appeared was my ring breaking. I had no recollection of it.
Trying to find peace in sleep, I’d close my eyes again and again, only for certain scenes to resurface: the guests pawing at one another, in the sway of desire and drugs; Marcelle in the arms of a man not her husband—and Red. Mostly I kept seeing my transgression with Red, the only misstep I’d made since meeting Victor. It felt as if that sin had broken my ring. Perhaps I had collided with the wall on purpose, knowing I didn’t deserve it anymore. And I certainly didn’t deserve to be Victor’s right hand, tasked with confidential dealings.
When I’d woken this morning, I expected another such day but was surprised to feel as if I could breathe again. I was able to shut down the images from the strange interlude at Ha Long Bay. Instead, I concentrated on the trip I wanted to make. The trip south to our vast miles of gray and red earth.
Victor had called the plantations a man’s world many times. He had never instructed me not to visit, but he hadn’t invited me either, and I hadn’t asked. But now I felt that I must go. Red was pushing for me to visit. Insisting. There had to be a reason why.
The way he had brought up the Michelin land the morning after our kiss, that stupid, reckless kiss. Why did he care if I’d seen it or not? It felt out of character. Red seemed like a man focused on living large without a care in the world. I supposed he had to dabble with the railroad expansion sometimes, but from what I could tell, his main priorities in life were getting highly intoxicated and making love to intoxicating women.
Lying between my sheets, which Trieu had been changing twice a day because of my cold sweats, I fingered the silk bag and thought about how I’d first met Red. He’d been one of the only men in the club when Marcelle and I had arrived for an early swim, an outing orchestrated by Marcelle. In hindsight, it was far too convenient.
I’d been wrong to stop worrying about her. I’d been too hungry to establish a life in Hanoi, and too desperate for friendship, especially with someone as vivacious and companionable as Marcelle. That childish longing, that need for intimacy, which I blamed on growing up with a horde of siblings, had made me silence my suspicions about her too quickly. I’d written off her mention of Switzerland as my tendency to overreact at times of change or upheaval. Victor knew that, too. But we’d made a mistake here.
I would explain to Victor my misgivings about Red, and he would understand why I needed to see the plantations.
I rang the bell that sounded in the servants’ rooms again, and Trieu reappeared a few minutes later. Her hair was brushed now, her appearance much neater.
“I’d like to send a telegram to Victor,” I said. I reached for the notepad and pen on my nightstand and scribbled a quick note. “Just in case I can’t get him on the telephone in time,” I said, handing it to her. “It’s difficult to connect to the plantation. The service out there is dreadful.”
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll send it at once.”
In the note, I estimated I would arrive in three days’ time, assuming the journey went smoothly. Victor would not be pleased that I was coming uninvited, but I told myself that when I explained about Red, he’d wonder why I hadn’t come sooner.
Visit the Michelin plantations, Red had said. His voice had been light, yet there was an urgency in his words and in his expression.
I wondered if he thought I was the kind of woman who just sat idle and had no interest in how her husband made his money. I hoped he didn’t. Regardless, he