And then just left by the police, dead on the street.”
Trieu watched as I rested my chin against my chest, trying to get the ceiling to cease spinning. “Lanh said he was a communist. A very active one. Running a large underground cell. That he’d been imprisoned before.”
“Is that a death sentence?” I asked, lifting my head. “Talking about something like that?”
“Of course,” she said. She looked at me as I lay there still holding the cup but not drinking from it. She sat on the edge of the bed and mimed tipping it back, encouraging me to try it. I took a small gulp. It was hot and bitter, as I’d expected, but not unpalatable.
“I don’t understand,” I said, handing her the cup when I had emptied it. “Why should it be a death sentence?”
“Identifying as a communist isn’t a death sentence. But being an active communist is. Being vocal, trying to turn other men into communists, too. Especially young men. That there are certainly consequences for. We are all aware of it.”
“Is that what he was doing?” I asked, thinking about the problems that had occurred on our plantations in the last six years.
“I think so. He’s been in the newspapers before. I don’t know that much about it, but the police are perhaps more fearful of communists now because the party unified three years ago and is more threatening. The French and the emperor in Annam, Bao Dai, they aren’t happy either.”
“The French like the emperor very much, no?”
“Yes, they do. He is practically French himself. He went to your country when he was nine years old and has spent most of his life there. Everything he does is in agreement with the French. Some say that that’s why they continue to allow him, the Nguyen dynasty, to keep some power.” She turned the empty cup around in her hand, then placed it on my nightstand. “More than a third of the country has that last name. Nguyen. Almost none of them are related to the emperor.”
“Do you like being French?” I asked Trieu, watching as she fussed around quietly with my blankets and sheets. “Living in a protectorate that feels controlled by the French, I mean. Do you mind that?”
“I enjoy it,” she said, smiling pleasantly. “I attended a very good school here. With financial assistance, of course. I speak two languages now, rather well, I think. I have a nice job. If my education had been left in the hands of my people, I would not have received one. You French care more about the education of girls than we do. Much more.”
“I certainly do,” I said.
“Today was very unfortunate. Lanh is embarrassed that he wasn’t there to help you earlier.”
“It wasn’t at all his fault,” I said.
“Still, we all want you to recover quickly. And you shouldn’t worry too much about politics,” she said. “It’s not good for the stomach.”
“I’ll try not to,” I said honestly.
“Just don’t become a communist,” Trieu said, smiling.
“Sound advice,” I replied, starting to find my strength.
“You have a visitor downstairs,” Trieu said when she’d finished smoothing the bed. “A woman named Marcelle de Fabry. I told her she shouldn’t wait, that I wasn’t sure how long you would be resting, but she insisted. Would you like to see her, or shall I send her off?”
“Marcelle is here?” I said, surprised. I knew I looked and felt a mess, but seeing her could shift my day for the better. Put today’s unwelcome episode behind me.
“It was nice of her to stay,” I said, pushing my covers back. “I hope she wasn’t waiting long.”
“An hour or so,” said Trieu. “Lucie was here for a short time and spoke to her. She was very polite. And we’ve given her plenty to eat.”
“Oh, good. Then yes, please send Madame de Fabry upstairs,” I said, feeling more stable and refreshed already. “But please give me my hairbrush and dressing gown first.”
Trieu helped me cover up and arranged my hair herself.
“I’ll bring her here then. Your friend,” she said, and left.
* * *
After an hour of gossiping, with Marcelle doing her best to cheer me up, she walked over to look at the photographs on the table that Trieu had rearranged, her elegant green silk dress flowing around her. She ran her hand over the frames, then picked up the one of Lucie. “I’m so happy that I met your daughter,” she said. “She’s a very polite child. And such a beauty. She looks like