Emily died a few weeks after Tak-Wing. It was then that we began to search for Raymond in earnest. We know he lived in Vancouver for a while, then Winnipeg. But we still don’t have a current address for him. If you have any interest in helping us, we’ll all be in the same flat tomorrow, though that flat will no longer be part of the British Empire but will belong to the new China that was born while Hong Kong was away.

Well, you’ll have to watch the rerun of the handover ceremony on TV tomorrow. I hope Macy won’t be too upset that we never showed up today. I hope she went down to the waterfront without us.

In the far distance Ophelia hears the old Kowloon–Canton Railway clock chime midnight. As it echoes, an unsung group of people who love the city gather in Chater Garden, where the old Hong Kong Cricket Club once stood. Though no one sees them, they silently take one another’s hands as they bear witness to the great change.

Before a massive crowd at the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre down on the waterfront, ceremonial guns go off, and ever so faintly Ophelia can hear the band of the People’s Liberation Army playing the “March of the Volunteers.” She hears the loud boom of fireworks, and the clouds above the Typhoon Shelter Restaurant flash their reflected light right into the dining room.

The grumpy server approaches. “Sik bao mei, ah?” she says. “Did you get enough to eat?”

“Thank you, yes,” says Great-Aunt Violet.

“So much,” says Ophelia. “Way more than I should have eaten. I’m so full.”

The grumpy server brings the bill, which Ophelia wants to pay. Great-Aunt Violet forbids it, and pushes her gold card into the server’s hand. When the bill is settled, they put their coats on, take their blue and yellow umbrellas from the umbrella stand, and step out into the gently falling rain.

Acknowledgments