better?” she said, eyeing me cautiously. “This isn’t the same illness that you had at Khoi’s little get-together, is it?”
How rich. A party with hundreds of dollars’ worth of champagne and piles of steamed lobsters and imported caviar was a “little get-together.” Some communist sympathizer she was.
“I don’t feel any better,” I said, putting my hands on either side of my head. I pushed them against my skull and then started hitting my head, hard. “It’s here. It’s all here. It’s a mess. And I just don’t know why.” I started to shake.
“Do you need a doctor?” she said as I met her gaze. Her voice was full of concern, but her eyes were laughing at me. I could finally see it. All this time, what I’d taken for joy, for mirth, for a sparkling personality, was actually muffled laughter, at my expense.
No longer.
“No,” I said, my expression abruptly hardening, my voice suddenly clear. “You know, I do feel better. I actually feel fine.” I placed my hands in my lap and smiled.
She startled, trying and failing to hide her surprise at my quick turn for the better.
“You look rather shocked, Marcelle. Does my sudden burst of good health surprise you?”
“Well, you seemed so sick,” she sputtered, trying to stand. I reached out, put my hand on her shoulder, and pushed her back down forcefully.
“I have seemed sick, haven’t I?” I said, moving closer to her, so that our legs were almost touching. “Practically the whole time we’ve known each other. I sure have felt sick. Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know,” she said coolly, reaching for my hand on her shoulder and lifting it off. I let her. She was starting to understand. “Some people just don’t take to Indochine. The heat, the food, the lifestyle, or lack of lifestyle, it’s just not for everyone.”
“But especially not for me,” I hissed. “Because before you even met us, you hated me and Victor. And you were plotting my demise with confidential medical files. Because you are crafty and devious and rotten to the core.” I got even closer to her. “You’re an utter bitch, Marcelle,” I whispered.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, staring straight in front of her. “You really seem quite ill. Perhaps I should call a doctor. You have a history of outbursts, after all. Why, just a few days ago dozens of people saw you ranting and raving about a bleeding woman. Maybe it’s reason enough to send you back to Switzerland. The Prangins Clinic, wasn’t it? Though we do have our own facilities for that sort of thing here. Insanity, that is. I’m sure you’ll find them very comfortable.”
“I never said Prangins,” I replied, glaring at her.
“Of course you didn’t,” she said lightly. “And neither did I. All it took was the mere mention of Switzerland, but my goodness, didn’t you squirm. It was wonderful to watch you, Jessie, it really was. I wish I’d been there when Red smashed your ring on the boat, just like I asked him to. Good old Red, a faithful dog that one. He said you squirmed then, too, despite being out of your mind. I’m sorry I missed it, but I’ve played the scene over in my mind many times, as I’m sure you’ve played over in yours the scene of those dead men at Dau Tieng.”
“You’re right,” I said, my anger with myself competing with my anger toward her. “I have.”
“You’re a broken person, Jessie,” she said, shaking her head at me. “I don’t know how you can just sit by and sip champagne married to that devil of a man. It’s no wonder you’re going crazy.”
“I’m not crazy,” I said, staring at her. “You and Trieu—I’m sorry, Hoa. You and Hoa have tried to convince me otherwise, but I’m not. My mother-in-law tried to make me think so in Paris, even convinced her son to support her, but that didn’t work, either.”
“You were mad enough—or perhaps just stupid enough—not to see that you had a communist leader in your own home.”
“You put her in my home!”
“No,” she said firmly. “You put her there. Your little company, that family, the one you so desperately wanted to be a part of. Besides, you were broken years ago, weren’t you? By your parents. Your father. How often were the beatings again? Near daily, once you were older? He only hit the babies about once a week, is that right? Is your brother Peter still