The Scottish Banker of Surabaya - By Ian Hamilton Page 0,137
This has to be happening to someone else.
“Ms. Lee,” a voice called.
Ava thought she was hearing things.
“Ms. Lee, I gave you ten minutes and it’s up. You need to leave now.”
The nurse stood in the doorway, looking severe.
“I’m sorry. I lost track of time,” Ava said.
“You’re abusing our kindness.”
“I’m sorry,” Ava said, standing.
Uncle looked up at her with what she could only think of as contentment. “I am glad things are settled,” he said. “I was worried about how I was going to tell you. You have made it easier for me.”
“I’ll be back tonight.”
“At regular visiting hours,” the nurse said.
“At five thirty,” Ava said to Uncle.
“I am out of here tomorrow.”
“And I’ll be here to get you.”
“Ms. Lee . . .” the nurse said.
Ava bent over and kissed him on the forehead. “I love you,” she whispered.
She was walking towards the door when she heard him say her name. She stopped and turned. “Yes, Uncle?”
He was on his back, his eyes closed. “Nothing, my girl, nothing at all.”
COMING SOON
from House of Anansi Press
in February 2014
Read on for a preview of the next thrilling Ava Lee novel, The Two Sisters of Borneo.
( 1 )
Ava Lee sensed something was wrong the instant she saw May Ling Wong standing alone at the entrance to the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception.
It was the second Saturday in January, and the sky was overcast. It was cold and dank, typical weather for the middle of a Hong Kong winter. Ava was in a Bentley limousine with Amanda Yee, the bride-to-be and her future sister-in-law, and three bridesmaids when she spotted May Ling. Amanda was about to marry Ava’s half-brother Michael, and Ava was the maid of honour. They had driven from Sha Tin, the town in the New Territories where Amanda’s parents lived.
The five women had been up since six that morning, getting coiffed, made up, and dressed by some of the most expensive hairstylists and makeup artists in Hong Kong. Ava had resisted having her shoulder-length black hair twisted and sprayed into an elaborate updo. She had declined to have her face slathered with foundation and powder. But she had no choice about the sleek lavender silk dress that Amanda had chosen for the bridal party. The tight strapless gown fell to Ava’s knees and made her feel as if she was enveloped in coloured plastic wrap.
Ava was in her mid-thirties but this was only the third wedding she had attended. The first had been her older sister Marian’s, when she married a gweilo civil servant named Bruce. The previous August her best friend, Mimi, had married Ava’s best guy friend and occasional work associate Derek Liang, at Toronto City Hall in front of ten friends and family members. Mimi was pregnant with Derek’s child, and the wedding had been little more than a formality. They had already started their life together, recently moving into a house in Leaside, one of Toronto’s more affluent neighbourhoods. Afterwards Derek had treated everyone to lunch at a nearby Chinese restaurant. The Hong Kong wedding, in contrast, would be going from the splendour of the cathedral to an eight-course feast in the ballroom of the Grand Hyatt Hotel.
When the limousine arrived at Immaculate Conception, three photographers and two cameramen were waiting for the bride and her bridesmaids. Twenty or thirty of the several hundred wedding guests were huddling together on the sidewalk for a last-minute cigarette. May Ling stood to the side, apart from the others. She wore a fitted coral and pale green Chanel suit, the skirt coming to just slightly above the knee. She stared vacantly, her face impassive, her back pressed against the grey stone church wall.
“There’s May,” Ava said to Amanda. “She looks a bit troubled.”
“Huh?” Amanda said, her attention focused on gathering up the metre-long train of her ivory Vera Wang wedding dress.
“Nothing,” Ava said, knowing the word troubled shouldn’t have escaped her lips. The wedding might be taking place in Western fashion in a Roman Catholic church, but Chinese superstitions couldn’t be that easily dismissed. Even a negative word, let alone deed, was viewed as having the potential to jinx the married couple. As the maid of honour, part of Ava’s role was to make sure that Amanda stayed protected inside a happy bubble.
When Ava got out of the limo, May Ling took a step forward and waved. She smiled, but her brow was furrowed and the smile was fleeting.
Amanda slid from the car, posed for the cameras, and was then surrounded