The Scottish Banker of Surabaya

( 19 )

It was just past five when Fay pulled up to the entrance of the Majapahit. “Bu Ava,” the doorman said as she reached the entrance.

She checked her cellphone as she walked up the stairs to her room. It hadn’t rung all afternoon and she couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Out of habit she hit the Missed Calls button and saw two from Sonny. Was her ring mode on? It was. When had he called? She realized it was when she’d been praying at the temple.

Ava waited until she was in her room before returning his calls. His wei was brusque. “It’s Ava. Sorry I couldn’t answer the phone before. I was in a temple.”

“I talked to Lourdes.”

“Good.”

“The doctor’s name is Parker.”

“Gweilo?”

“All I know is his name is Graham Parker.”

“Kowloon?”

“Yeah, near the Ocean Mall.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ll call him?”

“Sonny, this is not something I can do over the phone. I’ll be back in Hong Kong in a few days, I think, and I’ll try to set up a meeting.”

“Lourdes is scared.”

“I know.”

“So am I.”

“Me too. But I can tell you now, if I phone the doctor he won’t tell me anything. I need to get in front of him, so you’re going to have to be patient until I get there. And for goodness sake, tell Lourdes to stay calm. We don’t know anything for sure, do we.”

“No,” Sonny said.

“No. So let’s get our facts straight before we jump to conclusions.”

“I’ll talk to her.”

“Thanks.”

Ava hung up and sat on the side of bed. Now she had to get calm. This job, which hadn’t meant that much to her when she started it, now seemed almost meaningless. She’d have dinner with Cameron and find out what she could about the bank. That was as far as she was willing to commit. And if the dinner yielded nothing of interest, she was getting on a plane for Hong Kong.

There was a smell in the room. Incense. Her hair and T-shirt were imbued with it. She stripped and went into the bathroom, the marble floor cold to her feet. She turned the shower on full blast and jacked up the water temperature to as close to scalding as she could bear. She washed her body quickly and then poured the entire bottle of hotel shampoo into her hair. She scrubbed, her fingers kneading her scalp, washing out the incense and trying to rid her mind of negative thoughts.

When she was done, she stood in the middle of the bathroom, water dripping from her body, and towelled her hair as briskly as she had washed it. Dinner tonight and then I’m out of here, she thought. And if this is my going-away party, then I’m going to look good.

Ava put on black lace underwear and a black push-up bra. She brushed her hair until she could see it gleam in the mirror, and then fixed it back with her ivory chignon pin. She had packed a pink shirt that was a particular favourite, and she secured its cuffs with the green jade links. She left the two top buttons of the shirt undone to show her gold crucifix. Then she slipped on her fitted black linen slacks and her Cole Haan black leather pumps.

She seldom used much makeup, but tonight she added an extra touch of red lipstick and a little more mascara than usual. The effect was still understated, but the lipstick created a nice contrast to her skin and the mascara magnified her eyes.

She put on her Cartier watch, the shirt cuff sliding over it. It was almost six o’clock. She debated taking her Chanel bag and decided against it. The notebook and her phone could stay in the room as well. She’d go to dinner au naturel.