throwing herself back down on my body. “The baker is very ill. He does have throat cancer from smok—”
“Yes, yes, chérie. I understand,” I said, covering her mouth with my hand as she tried to look at me. “But opium isn’t a good topic of conversation for a little girl.”
“Okay,” she replied, disappointed. “Though it is quite a profitable commodity for the colony.” She wiggled so she was lying sideways on me, her legs folded awkwardly so that she just fit against my torso.
“Who have you been conversing with?” I asked her, too amused to chastise her again.
“Everyone I meet!” she said, laughing. “There are so many people to meet here.”
After delighting me with other phrases in Annamese that she’d picked up from the staff, Lucie kissed me good-bye, off to the kitchen for more language lessons with the cook. I kissed her head again, barely grazing it as she was in such a hurry to get to her private world.
Alone, I took a large swallow of wine. It was already too warm, losing its fight with the latitude of Indochine. I held the glass between my palms and looked out at the world below me, happy to experience Hanoi from my perch. After a month of living in the capital, I was starting to memorize its movements like a bird of prey.
After I’d refilled my glass twice, the scene below started to blur pleasantly, and I relaxed, willing my mind to stay right where I was, in my home, on my husband’s chair, with my daughter downstairs.
I closed my eyes, letting sleep creep over me, until I felt the warmth of someone nearby. As I stirred, I felt a blanket being draped over me and Victor’s comforting touch. I slowly opened my eyes to see him standing above me, still in his light gray traveling suit with a faint pinstripe, his wide silk tie slightly loosened. His black hair was deeply parted to the left and oiled down, as usual.
“Look at you here with the city at your feet,” he said, leaning down to kiss me. “Like the queen of Hanoi.”
“How was it?” I asked, turning my head up to kiss him back.
“Extraordinary. The plantations are just incredible. The breadth of them, it’s like they creep all the way to Saigon,” said Victor, his eyes animated. He motioned for me to move over and joined me on the chaise, which was wide enough for two. “I’d seen pictures over the years as the land has been cleared and planted, and I heard much about it from Uncle André, but nothing prepared me for the vastness of it. The modernity. And the sheer number of people working the land. There are five thousand coolies at Dau Tieng alone. Four thousand more at Phu Rieng. The amount of rubber trees still being planted is astounding. It feels as if the forests come down in a day, replaced with fields of saplings.”
“And you lived among all those men these past few days?” I asked, still having a hard time picturing Victor breaking bread with thousands of natives.
“Of course not. I stayed in my own very civilized bungalow. It was built for me when we sent word that I was coming. It’s rather handsome. Made of brick. Not too many insects. There are these horrible ants the size of a franc down there, but they’ve been directed to stay out of my house and they seem to take orders well.”
“That’s a relief,” I said, smiling.
“The two overseers, Theurière and Soumagnac, they’re not the most personable men in the world, but since the strife last year, they really have done much to modernize the plantations. Especially with the hospitals. The health care is world-class. And I was told the food is much improved as well. There are canteens serving meals of rice, meat, fish, and a brown sauce they all go wild for called nuoc mam. There are also doctors and nurses who live at the site, working in the large infirmary, stores where the coolies shop, separate little villages for them to sleep in—it’s very well laid out. And we’ve improved the housing, too, there are now thatch-covered mud houses with gardens. And we were able to build them for a third of the price than other plantations spent, since we had the coolies build them themselves. It’s quite rewarding, I imagine. To be able to build your own house. Really, it’s all quite impressive. There have clearly been great strides made by