The Secret Mandarin. Sara Sheridan

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СКАЧАТЬ some form of employment. One or two families offered positions teaching English to their young children. Among those brought up by Chinese nursemaids some had started speaking Cantonese more than English. The horrified parents sought to redress the balance. Robert accepted both positions on my behalf. Two visits a week would hardly keep me but it was, he pointed out, ‘necessary to have something, Mary’. The money might, I thought, go at least halfway. The fact I had little interest in other people’s children was neither here nor there. Robert also took lodgings on my behalf and paid six months in advance. The rooms were fine but I could not see how I was going to afford them beyond the allotted time. There was little to employ a lady on the island and if I was going to survive on the longer term I would have to capitulate a very great deal. I wondered how far my credit might extend, given that Robert was set to return and could be relied on to settle my debts. I had no idea how long as a white woman I might last in the shanty, if it came to that, and, if the worst came to the worst, how I was ever to afford my passage back to London if I did not even have enough money to pay rent.

      ‘Perhaps,’ I said to Robert one evening after dinner, ‘I shall export. I could pick out things myself. I have a good eye. I could charter a ship and send goods to auction in London.’

      Robert laughed.

      ‘But you have done it…’ I started.

      Robert held up his hand to prevent any further discussion.

      ‘You are a woman,’ he said and downed his drink. ‘It is not done.’

      He was right. I had a notion that over the several thousand miles I could conceal my identity so the merchant in London would not know. That somehow I would manage it. They would know, of course, in Hong Kong.

      ‘You may teach,’ said Robert. ‘You may keep books, perhaps. Something will turn up if you are willing.’

      ‘I could perform,’ I countered.

      ‘For God’s sake,’ Robert exploded. ‘Will you never stop?’

      He had done everything he could. I realised I must have tried him horribly. Robert was fulfilling his lifelong desire to make his fortune. I was far from realising any of my dreams. I told myself that I must keep my eyes open. There had to be something—surely the choice was not between a decrepit husband of advancing years or a bookkeeper’s role.

      ‘Is this where I am meant to be?’ I thought to myself. A drawing-room lady in a remote colony. A spinster. As good as invisible.

      ‘What is the point of travelling so far in order to become so small? I am not a teacher, Robert. I am not a convenient wife for some old soul you might meet in planning your excursions. I want to be myself .’

      Robert’s face wore an expression as if he had tasted sour milk.

      ‘Yourself,’ he echoed. ‘There is no place anywhere I know for yourself, Mary. It is pure indulgence.’

      ‘I like Hong Kong,’ I said.

      ‘Good, good.’ He was not listening.

      ‘But I have nothing worthwhile to do here.’

      I had written letters to Jane all the way from Cape Town though I had not included the truth about the cabin boy and Barraclough or, for that matter, her husband. Instead they were full of my observations from the deck of the ship, details of exotic and unusual foodstuffs and lively questions about Henry. I had not dispatched one of them. Robert had forwarded a single short missive telling his wife we were well and had arrived thus far. I found myself unable to communicate with my sister, probably for the first time in my life. The truth was that I was afraid, I missed my son and I felt truly lost to the world. I could not tell her any of that.

      Robert was, as ever, unperturbed. While brief in his writings to the family, he had regularly furnished a gardening journal with his lengthy observations on the plant life wherever we had docked. These were set to appear monthly in the form of a regular column. It irked him that they would be published out of their proper season but there was nothing he could do. The passage west was as irregular as it had proved eastwards and his words would appear in print whenever they happened to arrive in England. Should my sister wish to see what her husband had been occupied with some five months out of time she need only subscribe to the periodical for his views on exotic blooms, ferns, palms and unusual fruits and vegetables.

      It was this that held up Robert’s departure by two days, for he was committed to sending copy and in his rush to prepare for the journey had not done so. Hong Kong had proved a font of horticultural excitement and Robert paced the drawing room as he attempted to edit the weeks’ experiences down to a page or two. Plants were not a subject about which he was naturally abrupt, and he had some difficulty. In the end he settled upon providing material for two columns—one on the subject of Hong Kong’s indigenous flora and fauna and another on the cultivation of imported species. Many of these had been brought recently to the island by our new friends and reared from seed.

      I made myself scarce. The prospect of Robert’s departure unsettled me. He would sail to Amoy first, via Namoa. I had traced his route on the map. I knew the flat paper was deceptive. What was a finger or two’s width could take weeks to traverse and once on the mainland the overland route would be arduous. Robert was not set to return to Hong Kong for at least a year and I would be alone. He was the only person in a thousand miles who knew me or had my interests (or so he thought) to heart. I felt hemmed in by my homesickness and fear—the trepidation of not knowing what was to become of me and the sinking feeling that I was between the devil and the deep blue sea. In all likelihood there was no way forward that was in the least appealing. Though Robert and I were settled on friendlier terms, it surprised me now to realise that I was going to miss him. The truth was that I would by far have preferred to stay with my brother-in-law for all his faults than take on any of the ancient worthies he had lined up as my suitors.

      I decided to sit in the garden. A long pagoda had been erected on the lawn and it afforded a good deal of shade. I set aside my worries and instead decided to try once more to write to Jane. It was difficult to know what to say but before Robert left I was determined to send her something. There was no option but to square with her what had happened but whenever I sought to write it down I knew my sister’s reaction would be so horror-stricken that I was inhibited. After an hour I had merely three lines.

       Dearest Jane

       I have arrived in Hong Kong. Here Robert can keep a close eye on me. I have taken a teaching position. The island is lovely although malaria is rife. I am trying hard. My dear, I am so sorry, to have let you down once more. Please forgive me.

      I laid down my pen. On the Regatta I had written pages posted home from each port en route. Missives arrived from exotic locations at least twice after my family thought I was drowned. I had committed every thought to paper. Now I felt I had nothing to say. At least, nothing pleasing. I was being abandoned on this rock, left to fare for myself. There were no doubt far fewer single men here than in Calcutta and little employment to speak of. In two days Robert would be gone. I was acutely aware that there was no middle way that was acceptable both to my family and to me. Something would have to give.

      That evening we ate at the Governor’s mansion. The hallway was splendid with candles. I wore my shoulder-less evening gown and the sheen of the material came to life in the glow.

      ‘My dear,’ a lady resplendent in a carved jade necklace that matched her intricate bodice said to me, ‘your brother is leaving. You must be very proud. But will you manage alone?’

      I СКАЧАТЬ