The Scottish Banker of Surabaya - By Ian Hamilton Page 0,50

I’ll handle it. I’ll call him first thing in the morning and then get back to you.”

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

Masterson finished his second beer and then raised his hand towards the waiter, making a signing motion.

“No, please, let me look after the bill,” Ava said.

“Okay,” he said quickly, and stood, ready to leave.

Ava wasn’t used to men letting her pick up a cheque without some fuss. She also wasn’t accustomed to their running out on her.

“So you’ll call me in the morning?” she asked.

“You got it,” he said as he headed for the exit.

( 17 )

When Ava woke at four thirty, she knew she officially had jet lag. She lay still, her eyes closed, her arms limp by her side, trying to coax herself back to sleep. She tried to think of the cottage, the early morning smell of fresh pine, the snap to the air, the lake lapping gently against the dock. But her mind was too active to be seduced so easily. Andy Cameron, a man she didn’t even know, kept intruding, her image of him in ripped jeans and tight shirt a compliment to John Masterson’s descriptive powers.

She finally gave up and rolled out of bed. She went to one of the windows and levered open the wooden shutters. The sun was inching over the horizon, the gardens below beginning to glint. She listened for a call to prayer and heard nothing.

It was late afternoon in Toronto. Ava thought about calling her mother, Maria, Mimi, and then put them aside. She was back at work and they were best kept at a distance — less distraction that way. She made an instant coffee and then sat at the computer. Uncle had emailed her the information she needed on Perkasa and confirmed that he had sent him enough money to pay for a small gang if she needed it. Amanda had written to say she needed Ava’s measurements for her maid-of-honour dress, and was it possible for her to come to Hong Kong for a fitting sometime before Christmas.

Marian had talked to their mother and been told about Ava’s role at the wedding. Marian had never met Michael or any of the half-brothers and -sisters; her relationship with their father was far more distant, more neutral — an arrangement encouraged by her gweilo civil-servant husband, who had trouble wrapping his head around the complexities of the Lee family. Marian had written, Mummy is over the moon about this. She sees it as a complete validation of her relationship with Daddy. It’s like she’s won some kind of public moral victory over Wife Number One. I just hope you aren’t doing this for her sake, and that it won’t be too awkward for you.

In terms of awkward moments in my life, Ava thought, standing next to Amanda will rank at the bottom of any list. She wrote back, I understand that Mummy is happy about this, but I have my own relationship with Michael and especially Amanda and my presence at the wedding stems from that. I couldn’t be more comfortable with it.

Ava finished her coffee and immediately made another. She checked the door for a newspaper and found none. Back at the computer she pulled up the Globe and Mail and read the latest Canadian news. The country was still there, somehow still surviving the ruling Conservative Party and its uptight and thuggish leader.

Light began to stream through the open shutters into the room. Ava went back to the window and saw that the gardens were now fully lit, the grass, leaves, and flowers gleaming with dew that would evaporate in minutes under the full glare of the sun. Traffic was light, with as many street vendors pushing carts loaded with breakfast as there were actual cars.

The hotel had a gym, and Ava debated between going there for a run or outside onto the streets. She was a park girl, liking nothing better than an early morning run in Hong Kong’s Victoria Park or Bangkok’s Lumpini or New York’s Central. But from her window all she could see was pavement. Still, it was better than running indoors, she thought, and it would give her the chance to orient herself. She pulled on her gear, grabbed a bottle of water, and headed downstairs.

The lobby was deserted, occupied only by the desk clerk, a security guard, and the doorman. They all nodded to her as she walked past, mouthing the word Bu.

Ava walked out of the hotel onto Embong Malang Street. She