The Scottish Banker of Surabaya - By Ian Hamilton Page 0,100
talk en route had been casual, Uncle asking after her family and Ava telling him about Amanda and Michael. He seemed overly attentive when she explained her role in the wedding party, and Ava found that strange. Usually when a job went sideways, Uncle took it even harder than she did and was always eager to pick apart the details. Now it seemed to be the furthest thing from his mind.
He waited in the hotel lobby while she checked in, quickly showered, and changed into the only clean clothes she had left, a pair of slacks and a pale blue shirt. She was just about to leave the room when her cellphone rang. When she picked it up, she saw she’d missed two calls while she was in the washroom. They were both from Sonny. So was the incoming.
“Sonny?”
“He went to the hospital again yesterday,” he said quickly.
“I’ll try to see his doctor tomorrow. Hopefully he’ll tell me what’s going on.”
“You won’t see him.”
“Why not?”
“I had my woman call his office Saturday. She got a message saying he was going to be away from the office for the next week.”
“Great.”
“Ava, you will stay in Hong Kong until he gets back?”
She hesitated. “If I have to, Sonny, I will. The other option is for me just to talk to Uncle, but I’m not sure how he would react.”
“We need to know what’s really going on first.”
She thought about spending a week in Hong Kong waiting for a doctor who might not talk to her anyway, and then balanced that against questioning Uncle about his health when he had made it clear he didn’t want people prying. “You may be right,” she said.
“I know I am. If he’s trying to keep this from me, you, and Lourdes, he won’t say anything. He’ll just get angry.”
Ava knew how true that was. They each had their secrets, she and Uncle, and they each guarded their privacy with a passion that bordered on obsession. They rarely spoke about personal matters; when they did, it was so awkward that it was almost painful. But not sharing secrets didn’t lessen the intensity of their relationship, didn’t detract from the strength of the commitment they felt towards one another. If anything it made those feelings all the more powerful, because they were based on something that didn’t need to be said, something that was permanent, accepted. In her mind — and, she thought, in his — it was something as close to unconditional love as possible.
Ava said, “Let me sleep on whether I stay or not. You know Uncle is waiting for me to go to dinner. I’d better get downstairs.”
It was now past eleven o’clock, but the streets in Central were still crowded. Sunday was family day for the Chinese, the traditional day off for the hundreds of thousands of Filipino housemaids and yayas who lived in Hong Kong, and just another business day for the retailers and restaurants that stayed open late to service them.
Uncle looped his arm through Ava’s and let her navigate. She led them to the same noodle restaurant they had sat in five days before . . . a lifetime ago.
The owner saw them at the entrance, and before a word could be spoken he was already moving other customers around so he could accommodate them. Most of the other tables were occupied by families having a late-night snack. At one, four heavily tattooed men, two of them with their hair pulled back in ponytails, were drinking beer and sharing platters of grilled squid and snow-pea tips fried in oil and garlic. When the men saw Uncle and Ava, they began to talk among themselves, and then they stood as one and walked over to the table.
“It is an honour to see you, to meet you,” the oldest said, bowing his head to Uncle. The others followed suit.
“Where are you from?” Uncle asked.
“14K Wanchai.”
“Send my regards to Mountain Master Chen,” Uncle said.
“And he would want to send his deepest regards to you.”
“Thank you,” Uncle replied, with slight dip of his head.
The man stared at Ava. “Are you Ava Lee?”
“I am,” she said, taken aback.
“We know who you are too,” the man said. “Everyone has heard about Macau.”
“You are famous now,” one of the others said.
Ava lowered her eyes, embarrassed, confused.
The men hovered for a moment and then bowed to Uncle again before going back to their table.
“You have become something of a legend,” Uncle said, seemingly pleased.