The Night Tiger - Yangsze Choo Page 0,98

am.” He pushes his way into the kitchen. “Nandani!”

“She’s not here,” says Ah Long. “She went home.”

“She can’t walk far. How could she go home?”

He’s right. Nandani was limping, leaning on Ren’s shoulder even as he took her round the house to meet William earlier.

“Well, she went out about twenty minutes ago.” Ah Long frowns.

Without a word, the cousin goes out again. Ren stares at the swinging door, wondering if he should help him look.

“She’s probably waiting outside,” says Ah Long. “Now hurry up and collect the empty glasses.”

The other waiter goes to tend bar. Ren follows him, unease in the pit of his stomach. The night is so dark. Is Nandani outside, peering longingly in from the open windows? But he forgets about her as he goes into the front room again, because the girl in the pale blue dress is dancing with William right in front of him.

The couples twirl like flowers floating down a stream, and Ren sees his master laugh. But she’s not smiling. Her expression is serious, and she says very little although she dances well. All the professional girls do. Even Ren can tell that.

William catches his eye and to his amazement, points at Ren with his chin. The girl glances up and stares at Ren. There it is again, that unbearable electric charge that makes him want to grab her hand. Every time they whirl past, her head turns, as though she’s checking that Ren is still there.

William says something to her. Her mouth moves but what is she saying? And why is his master’s head bent, as though he’s considering something? Ren thinks about Nandani, waiting somewhere in the night and a feeling of protest rises in his chest. It isn’t right for William to do this, not with the girl in blue, her straight dark brows frowning.

He tries to read her, to read William in the same way that he could sense the trails of energy at the hospital, but no matter how much he stares at them there’s nothing, only a curious blank spot. Ren is dimly aware of noises, a disruption coming from the kitchen. He wavers, not wanting to leave his spot by the door, then scampers off.

In the kitchen, Nandani’s cousin is angrily telling Ah Long that he can’t find her though he has searched the grounds.

“What’s that got to do with us?” Ah Long balls his fists into his dirty white apron.

“She was here. If she’s gone missing, then it’s your master’s fault.”

Ren says, “I’ll find her. She might be round the other veranda.”

“Not you.” Ah Long gives Ren an irritated look. “You’re too small. Ah Seng!” He calls the part-time waiter over. “Go and help him look again. Take this lamp.”

Ah Long’s bushy eyebrows draw sharply down, and Ren suddenly understands his concern. Somewhere, out in the ferny rustling darkness, a predator has left deep paw prints in the soft earth.

“What about Nandani?” he cries out anxiously.

“I don’t want you out there,” says Ah Long. “She’s probably halfway home already.”

It’s a reasonable assumption, and besides, there are now two people searching for her. Ren goes back to the front room to collect his tray of dirty glasses. The air is thick with cigarettes and sweat. William is dancing with someone else now, the girl with the arched eyebrows in pink. Ren hesitates, wondering whether to tell him that Nandani has disappeared, but thinks better of it. He’ll only be bothered by the interruption. As he turns away, he hears the girl in pink loudly repeating her name for William. “Hui. It’s Hui,” she says coquettishly.

William seems to be paying just as much attention to her as he did to Ren’s girl, the one in blue, and for some reason that’s a relief.

A guest asks for a fresh drink, but the waiter who should be tending bar is still outside looking for Nandani. Ren only knows how to make one drink, a whisky stengah, and he does it the way that William likes, with so much Johnnie Walker that the frosted glass is the color of Chinese tea. Amused, his patron calls a friend over, and Ren finds himself surrounded by laughing faces as he mixes drink after drink.

“Sorry, no more ice,” says Ren, gathering up the ice bucket and tongs in relief. Dodging between people, he makes a beeline to the kitchen. Perhaps the waiter and Nandani are back by now. But there’s only Ah Long’s stooped, skinny figure peering anxiously out of the back

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