“I do this once a week,” Lee said. “There’s no need to worry.”

We rounded North Point, which had been one of the main landing points for the Japanese in the original invasion in December 1941.

I had the idea that once we passed through Lei Yue Mun Strait, we’d be home free. Lei Yue Mun was a narrow passage out of Victoria Harbour, which led into Junk Bay and the open sea. Above us lay the barracks where the British had trained in preparation for the Japanese invasion. Up there Royal Rajputs, Winnipeg Grenadiers, and Hong Kong Volunteers had been bayonetted and beheaded on that terrible Christmas Day. Up there still were captured gun batteries and a redoubt. There could easily be Japanese gunners with their sights trained on us from their perches in the dark.

“Can’t you go faster?” I said to Ting-Yan.

“I don’t want to arouse suspicion,” she said.

Out in Junk Bay they cast a fishing net, and shone a bright light into the water to draw the fish.

“Have you lost your mind?” I said. “Fishing? At a time like this?”

“Do you want to get there safely or not, Miss Violet?” said Old Lee.

“Our lights and our fishing nets are our cloaks of invisibility,” Ting-Yan explained. “My family has survived for centuries both because we fish to eat, and because we use small fish to capture big ones.” She laughed, a tinkling, fairy laugh.