I asked Amah to take the letter to Lai Po-Chuen’s dorm.

If Emily and Tak-Wing weren’t there, she was to take it to the HKCC, the next most likely place to find them. I prayed that I had done the right thing and was not making matters worse.

CHAPTER 20AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR

July 16, 1937

There was a knock at the door. Cheung wasn’t expecting anyone. He looked out the back window. There on Jackson Road, between his back door and the side door of the Supreme Court stood Granny Yip, whom he remembered from his youth at Wong Nai Chung Village. His eyes lit up at the sight of a familiar face, then went grim when he remembered who she worked for. She had for the last twenty-five years or so been amah at the house of Cheung’s mortal enemy, Morris Mah Chin-Pang. He’d already opened the door. It was too late to do anything different.

She wasn’t even looking for him. She was looking for Emily and Tak-Wing. She had a letter for Emily.

“They aren’t here.”

“Do you know where they are?”

“How on earth should I know? It’s not like Tak-Wing is my best and most filial son!”

“I wouldn’t trouble you, but it’s important.”

“Old Mah has already taken my first son. I had to sell my house to pay the bride price. He’s already had his stupid wedding, English style. Right here at my place of employment. If that’s not adding insult to injury, I don’t know what is! What’s in that letter?”

“Private letter from Missy Violet to Missy Emily. Not your business.”

“Come on, Granny. Haven’t you known me since I was a little child running through the village in nothing but diapers?”

“You were a cute child. How did you get so old and ugly?”

“You’re one to talk,” huffed Old Cheung. “What’s in the letter? If it concerns my oldest son, I have a right to know.”

Granny Yip sighed. “Chinese wedding.”

“Chinese wedding?”

“Old Mah wants to have a Chinese-style wedding for them. Says the English wedding was bad luck.”

“I will not pay for a Chinese wedding. I’ve already lost my house because of that bastard. I’ve got my other son to think of. The filial one.”

“Do you have any idea where I can find them? I have a duty to my mistress to discharge.”

“No idea,” Cheung said crossly. He slammed the door in her face.

But after she was gone, worry began to set in. A subtle, inconsequential feeling at first. Slowly it grew, like a tickle at the back of the throat that might or might not be a summer cold. By nightfall, he was quite concerned. While the toffs were drinking in the main-floor bar, he called the Stable on the telephone. Granny Yip answered.