“Shin, this is Pei Ling. She’s a nurse here.”
He put on his polite smile, the one used to charm old ladies. “I’m Shin,” he said. “Thanks for looking out for…” He paused and I could tell he was having the same confusion about how to refer to our relationship. “Her,” he said finally, jerking his head at me.
Very smooth, Lee Shin, I thought, exasperated, though I hadn’t managed any better myself. “Pei Ling was wondering if you’d do her a favor. Can you fetch something from the men’s hostel for her?”
“No!” she blurted out. “Just forget it.”
“Are you sure?” I’d never seen anyone have that reaction to Shin before.
“Yes. I have to go now.” Standing abruptly, she shoved her chair back as she fled the cafeteria. Stunned, I followed her as best I could in my stupidly tight dress.
“What’s wrong?” I asked breathlessly. She’d sounded so desperate this morning, as though she’d had no one else to ask. “Don’t you want Shin to get your package back for you? I’m sure he’ll do it.”
“How well do you know him?”
“Since we were children,” I said, puzzled.
She bit her lip, looking away. “I’ve seen him around with Yew Cheung’s friend. The one I don’t like.” Not knowing what to say, I recalled Y. K. Wong was Shin’s roommate here at the hospital.
“Forget it. I’ll get it back myself.” Pei Ling walked off stiffly, her back radiating a clear do not follow sign.
Returning to the cafeteria, I found Shin eating the remains of my kaya toast. “You’re losing your touch with women,” I said gloomily. “And give me back my breakfast.”
“Too late.” He stretched his long legs out under the table. I felt like kicking him, except the cheongsam I was wearing was too narrow to allow it. “What was that all about?”
I told him about Pei Ling and her connection with both the salesman and Y. K. Wong—though when I mentioned that his roommate had tried to follow me home on Friday night, Shin’s face darkened.
“Why didn’t you say anything to me yesterday?”
“Just pretend you don’t know. I don’t want to get involved with him.” Thankfully, Y. K. Wong didn’t seem to have glimpsed my face yesterday. “Though I wonder what Pei Ling wanted you to get for her in the men’s hostel.”
Everything connected to the severed finger, including Pei Ling and her odd request, cast an uneasy shadow. Half of me was rabidly curious, while the other half warned it was best to forget about it. In any case, we were almost done cleaning up the storeroom—a couple of hours more and I’d be heading back to Ipoh.
Shin had finished what remained of my breakfast and now gazed speculatively at Pei Ling’s untouched plate.
“You can have hers as well.”
“Don’t want it.”
“Hers is better—she didn’t even take a bite,” I pointed out.
“I only want your food,” he said languidly.
I rolled my eyes, relieved we were on friendly terms again. Though I ought to be careful with Shin. He might blow hot and cold again. So I said nothing and ate Pei Ling’s toast instead. It bothered me, that she’d seemed so frightened.
A shadow fell across us, and I looked up to see Koh Beng, the porky-jowled orderly. Although it was only morning, his face was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. “Are you all right?” he asked. “You didn’t look well last night.”
It was kind of him to remember. Koh Beng sat down and started eating. Noodles again, with thin succulent slices of pork liver ladled on top of the steaming hot soup. I wished I’d ordered that as well. “Want some?” he asked.
“We were just leaving,” said Shin, standing. I got up as well, discreetly tugging my dress down. Koh Beng’s gaze lingered on my legs.
“Eyes on the table!” I said, rapping the wooden tabletop.
He grinned. “I like a girl who speaks her mind.”
He was interrupted by a commotion outside. People were running back and forth and shouting.
“What is it?” I asked.
Koh Beng kept eating his noodles. “Probably a monitor lizard,” he said dismissively.
Monitor lizards could grow up to five feet long and preyed on stray chickens, rodents, and whatever else they could find. The thought of one roaming the hospital gave me goose bumps. I glanced at Shin but he was frowning, head cocked as though he’d heard something.
“Come on,” he said.
Away from the main hospital buildings, the hill sloped downward, connected by little walkways and stairs. Shin was much faster than me, and by the time I came out onto the walkway where he’d stopped, a group of people had gathered at the bottom.
“Step aside, please!” Two men with an empty stretcher brushed past.
Shin turned and made his way back towards me. “Don’t look.”
“What happened?”
In answer, he seized my elbow and led me swiftly away. Craning my neck, I caught a glimpse of the men loading someone onto the stretcher; I could just make out a small bare foot.
“How did you meet that nurse again?” Shin asked in an undertone.
“I ran into her on my way to the cafeteria. Why?”
“Because she just fell down those steps. It’s quite bad. No, don’t go back. There’s nothing you can do right now.”
“Is she dead?”
“Looks like a head injury. Someone found her just now.”
Shocked, I felt like crying. What a horrible thing to happen to Pei Ling, and barely half an hour since she’d left the cafeteria.
“Was she running when she left you?”
“No, she was walking. Shin, what should we do?”
“She’s already being seen by doctors. A hospital is a good place to have an accident. If it was one,” he added under his breath.
I stopped. “What makes you think so?”
“She landed quite a distance from the bottom of the stairs. If you tripped, you normally wouldn’t fall so far because you’d catch yourself. There were railings, too. If you were pushed, on the other hand—” He sighed. “When she told you about her parcel in the men’s hostel, was there anyone around?”
“Not the first time. But when we were outside the cafeteria, there were people passing.”
Anxiously, I scanned the scene below. The stretcher with its sad burden, the pathetic small feet sticking out, one bare and one still shod in a sensible nurse’s shoe, had made its way behind another building. The people dispersed, though a lone figure continued to watch from a distance. I recognized the crooked profile as Y. K. Wong’s.
“I thought you said he was gone last night!” I hissed, pointing him out to Shin.
“He must have come back this morning. You’re not suspecting him, are you?”
I wasn’t sure what to think. Pei Ling’s calamity unnerved me; it seemed too coincidental that she should have such a terrible accident right after confiding in me. Once again, I thought of the black shape moving deep in the river of my dreams.
“Shin, can you look for Pei Ling’s parcel in the men’s hostel common room? She was worried that someone else would find it. We ought to keep it safe for her.” I gave him a pleading glance.
He didn’t say anything, just raised his eyebrows and walked off. I knew he’d do it though. We’d had pet ducklings when we were younger, two sweet yellow balls of peeping fluff. Mine disappeared one afternoon. Cats’ dinner, people had teased, but Shin had silently and doggedly searched the neighborhood for days, long after all hope for the poor duck was gone. Recalling this, I felt a rush of gratitude. Though Pei Ling’s words lingered in my head: how well do you know him? It was a good question. We were no longer children. Even now, I wasn’t sure why Shin hadn’t come home for almost a year. Besides, how long could I rely on him? The only real family I had was my mother, and she was the one who required looking after.
At the sound of approaching footsteps, I straightened up, suddenly fearful that it might be Y. K. Wong. There was something uncanny about that man, the way he appeared in unexpected places. But it was only Koh Beng.
“Hello!” he said cheerfully. “Waiting for Shin?”
“Yes, he’s gone to fetch something.” I hesitated, wondering whether to mention Pei Ling’s accident to him.
“Want me to show you around?”
I agreed quickly. It wasn’t wise to wait near the men’s hostel, where Y. K. Wong might well run into me if he returned. Hopefully, Shin would have the good sense to come looking for me.
Koh Beng was an interesting guide, full of gossip and colorful stories. This was where the first blood transfusion in the hospital had taken place. That office was where the previous director’s wife had caught him trying on a nurse’s uniform. Size XL. I couldn’t help laughing, even though most of the tales were dreadful.
“Are you really Shin’s girlfriend?” he asked suddenly.
“Why?”
Koh Beng hesitated. “Because he has another girl. Down in Singapore.”
“How do you know?”
“He talks about her all the time. Said he met her in Singapore.”