“She’s probably waiting outside,” says Ah Long. “Now hurry up and collect the empty glasses.”
The other waiter goes to tend bar. Ren follows him, unease in the pit of his stomach. The night is so dark. Is Nandani outside, peering longingly in from the open windows? But he forgets about her as he goes into the front room again, because the girl in the pale blue dress is dancing with William right in front of him.
The couples twirl like flowers floating down a stream, and Ren sees his master laugh. But she’s not smiling. Her expression is serious, and she says very little although she dances well. All the professional girls do. Even Ren can tell that.
William catches his eye and to his amazement, points at Ren with his chin. The girl glances up and stares at Ren. There it is again, that unbearable electric charge that makes him want to grab her hand. Every time they whirl past, her head turns, as though she’s checking that Ren is still there.
William says something to her. Her mouth moves but what is she saying? And why is his master’s head bent, as though he’s considering something? Ren thinks about Nandani, waiting somewhere in the night and a feeling of protest rises in his chest. It isn’t right for William to do this, not with the girl in blue, her straight dark brows frowning.
He tries to read her, to read William in the same way that he could sense the trails of energy at the hospital, but no matter how much he stares at them there’s nothing, only a curious blank spot. Ren is dimly aware of noises, a disruption coming from the kitchen. He wavers, not wanting to leave his spot by the door, then scampers off.
In the kitchen, Nandani’s cousin is angrily telling Ah Long that he can’t find her though he has searched the grounds.
“What’s that got to do with us?” Ah Long balls his fists into his dirty white apron.
“She was here. If she’s gone missing, then it’s your master’s fault.”
Ren says, “I’ll find her. She might be round the other veranda.”
“Not you.” Ah Long gives Ren an irritated look. “You’re too small. Ah Seng!” He calls the part-time waiter over. “Go and help him look again. Take this lamp.”
Ah Long’s bushy eyebrows draw sharply down, and Ren suddenly understands his concern. Somewhere, out in the ferny rustling darkness, a predator has left deep paw prints in the soft earth.
“What about Nandani?” he cries out anxiously.
“I don’t want you out there,” says Ah Long. “She’s probably halfway home already.”
It’s a reasonable assumption, and besides, there are now two people searching for her. Ren goes back to the front room to collect his tray of dirty glasses. The air is thick with cigarettes and sweat. William is dancing with someone else now, the girl with the arched eyebrows in pink. Ren hesitates, wondering whether to tell him that Nandani has disappeared, but thinks better of it. He’ll only be bothered by the interruption. As he turns away, he hears the girl in pink loudly repeating her name for William. “Hui. It’s Hui,” she says coquettishly.
William seems to be paying just as much attention to her as he did to Ren’s girl, the one in blue, and for some reason that’s a relief.
A guest asks for a fresh drink, but the waiter who should be tending bar is still outside looking for Nandani. Ren only knows how to make one drink, a whisky stengah, and he does it the way that William likes, with so much Johnnie Walker that the frosted glass is the color of Chinese tea. Amused, his patron calls a friend over, and Ren finds himself surrounded by laughing faces as he mixes drink after drink.
“Sorry, no more ice,” says Ren, gathering up the ice bucket and tongs in relief. Dodging between people, he makes a beeline to the kitchen. Perhaps the waiter and Nandani are back by now. But there’s only Ah Long’s stooped, skinny figure peering anxiously out of the back door.
“Did they find Nandani?” Ren’s stomach gives an uneasy flip.
“Not yet.”
“Let me look.” Ren is sure he can find her. His cat sense twitches once, twice.
Ah Long frowns, his wrinkled neck angled like a tortoise. “Check the house. Just in case she came back through the side doors.”
Ren races off on silent feet. He knows how to nip around without going into any of the public spaces where the guests spill into, mingling and talking. The back hallway, the corridor between the study and the dining room. At every window, he pauses and peeks out just in case Nandani happens to be waiting on the other side, in the dark. There are too many stories about vengeful women who come in the night, tales of the pontianak, a woman who dies in childbirth or pregnancy and who drinks men’s blood. She looks like a beautiful lady with long hair, and can only be tamed by stopping up the hole at the nape of her neck with an iron nail. Or is it by cutting off her own long nails and stuffing them into the hole in her neck? Ren isn’t sure, except that she’s very angry with men. There are other creatures, too, child spirits like the toyol, used as a sorceror’s servant to steal and run errands. It reminds him uneasily of his own disturbing task. Ren shakes his head with a sharp, doglike movement. There’s something about tonight—a restless unease, the laughing dancers, Nandani’s pained face—that sends a long shiver up his spine.
His cat sense has gone quiet, the invisible tendrils curled back as though they’re afraid to penetrate the silent outer reaches of the house. All is hushed, quivering in expectancy. It would be faster to run but running is worse, as though he’s giving in to his fears.
When he gets to William’s study, he freezes, hand on the door. The tiger skin on the floor, its mouth open in a rictus, is not what he wants to see right now. Not in the darkness, with the faint new moon gilding the dead eyes.
Ren lets out a whimper. Yi, he thinks. I don’t want to be alone. He gazes from the passageway into a brightly lit slice of drawing room, and there she is, his girl in blue, leaning against the wall. She looks straight at him. Glances around, then slips into the corridor beside Ren.
“I’m Ji Lin.” Her voice is low and friendly. “Who are you?”
“I’m Ren.” His chest clenches. One, two. Breathe.
“Ren … meaning ‘benevolence’?”
“Yes.”
“But you’ve grown bigger!” Wide-eyed, she studies him with surprise. Then she catches herself. “I mean, you look like someone I’ve met. Do you know me?”
Ren doesn’t know how to reply to that. Technically, he’s never seen her before but he believes with all his heart that they belong together. The sensation is so strong that his throat squeezes tight. “No,” he says at last, though it feels like admitting defeat.
“How old are you?”
“Eleven.” It’s the first time since leaving the orphanage that he’s told anyone his real age. Seen up close, she’s shockingly pretty. Or at least, she is to him, though some might say her cropped hair and slender frame are too boyish.
“Do you have a brother?”
“Yes. No.” Ren stumbles over this question. Auntie Kwan said he must stop telling everyone he had a brother since it confused people. But Yi still exists for him. “Yes,” he says at last.
“What’s his name?” She watches him closely, as though this is some kind of test. Ren desperately wants to pass it.
“Yi.”
A long exhale. “Ren and Yi. Well, the ‘Ji’ in my name is zhi for wisdom. Does that mean anything to you?”
“Ah Jie,” he blurts out. Older Sister. That’s the right way to call her though he understands exactly what she’s saying. They’re part of a set, she and him; he’s known it all along. A wave of giddy exultation washes over him, and she laughs, her eyes sparkling.
“And your brother Yi,” she says excitedly. “Let me guess, is he younger than you? About seven or eight years old?”
“Yes.” Ren is about to tell her that Yi is younger than him because death has increased the distance between them, but he pauses, not knowing how to mention it. Not here, in the gloomy shadow of the windows. “Do you know my brother?”
Now it’s her turn to hesitate, as though she’s said too much. “I’m not sure. But I have a brother, too. His name is Shin, for xin. So that makes four of us out of five.”
“There’re five actually. If you count my master.”
“What do you mean?”
“He has a Chinese name, too—he said so tonight. It’s got the Li in it, for ritual.”
“Are you sure?” She looks disturbed for some reason.
“Yes, but maybe it doesn’t count, since he’s a foreigner.”
“Ren!” Ah Long appears in the corridor.
Guiltily, Ren spins round. He’s supposed to be searching for Nandani, not talking to strange young women. “Coming!” he says, but Ah Long has seized his shoulder.
“Did you find her?”
“No.” Ren doesn’t understand why Ah Long is so worried.
“Don’t go out right now.”
“Why?”
“Aiya! Because the tiger is in the garden. Ah Seng and that boy, Nandani’s cousin, swear they saw it just now.”
“Where?”
“At the bottom of the garden where you bury the garbage—remember the paw print? Stay inside for now!”
“Did you tell the master?”
“He’s gone for his shotgun.”