Lydia stops to tell her parents she won’t be going back with them. From their glances, they’re pleased he’s making a move on their daughter. It’s a misunderstanding he’ll have to eventually clear up, though it’s understandable. He’s the right age and from a good family. There’s talk around Lydia that nags at him, though he can’t recall what it’s about. William has a feeling that he ought to investigate. But in the meantime, the sun is shining, everyone is smiling, and the tiger hunt promises more excitement in the future.
Lydia sits in front, of course. William helps Nandani into the back with her crutches. She looks intimidated, so he gives her hand an extra squeeze. She drops her eyes, and William is sure that she likes him. Today may be lucky after all.
20
Batu Gajah District Hospital
Sunday, June 14th
My eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling. The floor creaked, a voice echoed in the corridor, and I remembered that I’d stayed over at the nurses’ hostel. Grey light seeped in through the single window. It was Sunday morning.
Last night’s headache had vanished, though I wondered whether there was something wrong with me, some brain disease that gave me vivid delusions. Every dream I’d had of that deserted railway station had been preceded by a bad headache. The little boy’s words about how there ought to be five of us lingered. I sat on the edge of the narrow bed, counting us off. There was Shin, and me, and the little boy. He’d also mentioned his brother and a fifth person, someone he seemed quite nervous about. The memory was beginning to fade, the way that dreams do.
I had the odd fancy that the five of us were yoked by some mysterious fate. Drawn together, yet unable to break free, the tension made a twisted pattern. We must either separate ourselves, or come together. I could certainly see that about Shin and myself. He was my paper twin, my friend, my confidante. And yet I envied and resented him.
I washed up quickly in the white-tiled, institutional common bathroom. It was deserted, the voices in the corridor having long gone elsewhere. Yesterday’s frock was too grimy to be worn again, but Mrs. Tham had insisted on packing a modern cream and green geometric print cheongsam, fitted like a sheath. I’d thought I was done with cheongsam after making the grey one that I’d worn to the salesman’s funeral, but Mrs. Tham had other ideas, declaring that such a tricky dress should be the backbone of every dressmaker’s arsenal. Unfortunately, I’d underestimated the seam allowances. Once I put it on, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to eat a thing. Why, why had I let her pack for me yesterday? It struck me that both Mrs. Tham and Shin possessed the uncanny ability to drag me into situations that I didn’t plan for. If yesterday was any indication of what might happen, I’d be lucky if Shin didn’t make me clean the hospital toilets today.
* * *
The reception area was empty. Everyone who’d been out on Saturday night was probably still sleeping it off. I wondered where Shin was and what he’d done last night, as I headed over to the cafeteria for breakfast. A faint, foggy mist clung to the wet grass as I crossed, looking for a shortcut. Approaching a corner, I heard the low hiss of angry voices.
“Don’t deny it! You’ve been crying your eyes out over him—a married man!”
“—none of your business anyway.”
I hesitated. The next instant, someone rushed around the corner and cannoned into me. It was a young nurse, her face puffy, her eyes watering suspiciously.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
She burst into tears. There was nothing to do but offer her my handkerchief; I couldn’t very well leave her crying on the grass. From what I’d overheard, it sounded like the same sad story I’d observed at the May Flower. Married men were trouble.
“Did you hear everything?” My face must have given me away, for she said, “It’s not like I was having an affair with him. They’re just picking on me. Can you please not tell anyone? I might get suspended if Matron finds out.”
“Don’t worry, I’m just a visitor.”
She looked relieved. “It’s just that, of course, you’d be sad if somebody died, right?” Tears welled up again in her eyes.
People crying always made me feel guilty, especially my mother, the few times I’d found her silently weeping in her darkened bedroom, her eyes wide open and the tears running down her face as though she was sleepwalking. This nurse looked so utterly miserable, with her crooked knees and crumpled uniform, that I patted her back while she blew her nose loudly.
“I couldn’t even go to his funeral last weekend in Papan, because I had to work.”
My ears pricked. How many funerals could there have been in that town last weekend?
“What did he do?”
“He was a salesman, one of my patients. We were friends,” she said too quickly.
So I’d found her—the nurse who’d given the salesman the finger. Was it fate, or some dark link, like a cold strand of riverweed entangling us? Too many peculiar events were connected to this hospital. I couldn’t help thinking that if you believed the souls of the dead lingered for forty-nine days after death, then this hospital must be full of them.
“Were you going somewhere?” she asked, with a guilty start.
“To the cafeteria, but I got lost.”
“I’ll take you. I was on my way there myself.” She pursed her lips. “Let me wash my face first.”
The little nurse—she was almost a head shorter than me, though I was considered tall for a girl—hurried off. I waited, wondering whether she’d change her mind and abandon me. But my experience at the May Flower had taught me that people confided all sorts of things to strangers, and she’d been practically bursting to tell someone.
Presently, she returned looking better. She still had a rabbity air about her, but it suited her pale complexion and small front teeth. “I’m Pei Ling, by the way.”
“My name’s Ji Lin. I stayed at the hostel last night, to visit my brother—I mean, my fiancé.” I stumbled over the words.
She gave me a complicit look. “You mean your boyfriend? They’re awfully strict at the hostel. Don’t worry, I won’t tell. What’s his name?”
“Lee Shin. He’s an orderly.”
“I don’t think I know him.” She frowned intensely, as though she was calculating something, then stopped, twisting her hands. “You’ve been kind to me,” she said, cutting short my protests. “No, you have. Lots of people don’t notice me—I’m that kind of person. But will you do me a favor?”
“What is it?”
“You said your boyfriend was an orderly at the men’s hostel. I don’t know anyone there. At least, not anyone I trust. Do you think you could ask him to fetch a parcel for me? I’m not asking you to steal. It was mine in the first place.” Face red, voice shaking, she must have been desperate to ask a stranger. Or perhaps a stranger was the best method if she didn’t want to involve anyone she knew. “Yew Cheung had a friend in the men’s hostel who used to keep things for him. He said he’d give it back to me, but he died so suddenly.”
“Why don’t you ask his friend for it?” That must be Y. K. Wong, I thought. He’d said at the May Flower that he was the salesman’s friend.
“Because I don’t like him. And he’d probably use it against me.” Eyes averted, lips trembling.
This sounded suspicious but I might learn something more about Y. K. Wong, if I had to deal with him again. “All right, I’ll ask Shin.”
Relieved, she said, “It’s in the common room of the men’s hostel. Yew Cheung said he hid it in a vase the last time he came because his friend was out. It was only supposed to be a temporary hiding place, and I’m worried that someone will eventually find it.”
* * *
At this early hour on a Sunday morning, there were hardly any people in the cafeteria. Those spooning food into their mouths looked bleary-eyed. They’d probably worked the night shift like Pei Ling.
“Do you like being a nurse?” I asked as we loaded our trays with tea and toast and soft-boiled eggs.
“It’s all right.”
Eagerly, I asked about the qualifications required, and how to apply.
“But why would you want to be a nurse?” Pei Ling assessed my fashionable cheongsam. “You look like your family’s well-off.”
“No, I’m just a dressmaker’s assistant. This was made at our shop.”
She sipped her teh O, sweet black tea, glumly. “Being a nurse isn’t easy—if you make a mistake, Matron chews you out.”
“But it’s interesting, isn’t it?” I said. “And you can be financially independent.”
I never heard her answer, because Shin slid into the seat opposite. “Where were you? I was waiting for you at the women’s hostel until someone said your room was empty.”
There were shadows under his eyes, and his dark hair was sleek and wet, as though he’d stuck his head under the tap. Despite that, he still had a handsome, wolfish look. You could tie Shin up in a sack and roll him around a field, and he’d still come out attractively tousled. Some people were just lucky, I thought enviously.
I glanced at Pei Ling to see if she had the usual slack-jawed reaction to my flashy stepbrother. That always happened to my friends, but Pei Ling had fallen silent, staring at Shin. It was almost as though she was frightened of him.