He chuckles. ‘No, Madame Meng sent a message asking me to fetch Sister Niang. She would have been heartbroken to miss her daughter.’
He joins the table. The dishes continue to arrive, and as far as I can tell, the Durands enjoy the food and the company. When my parents return with Niang Niang, both mother and daughter are teary, but they seem to have found an understanding. Niang Niang too joins the table.
My whole family, here, together. The Maotai has been brought out, along with Big Wang’s favourite cognac. Mémère makes a cocktail of blood and whisky, clinking glasses with Big Wang, both of them knocking their drinks back like they’re doing shots. Horsey, Marianne and Lord Aengus are deep in a philosophical debate about some esoteric point of Confucian benevolence. My mother hugs Maomao, whispering and laughing. Even Tony seems to be at peace, chatting contentedly with my father.
Lord Aengus taps his glass with a spoon. ‘I have an announcement.’ When he has our full attention he says, ‘Maomao and I will do some hiking in the Celestial mountains before we both travel back to Inis Fáil.’
‘You’re going home?’ Tony says, clearly surprised.
Lord Aengus inhales deeply. ‘Yes. I need to have a heart to heart with the Dagda. Maomao says I should try to be open and honest, and to make an effort to understand him too. That way, both of us have a chance to be happy, rather than being miserable whenever we’re together. And even if he refuses to meet me halfway, at least I can say I tried with my whole heart, and thus will have no regrets.’
‘A wise choice,’ Lord Black says.
Too soon, the time comes to say goodbye. My parents take turns to hug me. I don’t want to let go, but I know I have to. When they step away, they each pull out a small pot.
At my questioning look, my mother explains. ‘Madame Meng’s oblivion tea.’
‘You want to forget us?’ I say, my voice pitching high.
‘There is much bitterness inside me, Jing. It eats away at me.’ She turns to my father. ‘You saw how he suffered; the tea will allow him to forget the pain of the shrine. Madame Meng said our red thread of Fate will ensure we don’t lose each other in our new realm. It is the best way to move forward, to find joy, and to let go of the poison that clings to us.’ She holds my hand. ‘I know this is difficult and unexpected. But I believe, if you know that we are content, you will be happy for us. Our memories are not completely lost; they are in your safekeeping.’
My mother’s gaze locks with mine as she drinks her tea. I watch her memories disappear; the line between her brows smooths, the tension at the corner of her eyes fades, even the way she holds herself changes, as if a heavy burden has lifted from her shoulders. Her gaze slips from mine, then sweeps across her loved ones, Niang Niang, Maomao, me, with perfect disregard. She has no idea who we are. A red thread appears on her wrist, connecting her to my father. Their eyes meet and they smile shyly at each other as a soft golden glow surrounds them.
When the light wanes, they’re gone.
The others return to the table, to their drinks. I’m not hungry or thirsty, so I wander over to the koi pond. Tony follows me.
‘Jing, can we talk?’
‘Sure.’ Remembering Big Wang’s threat about the lower levels of hell, I pull him over to the other side of the terrace.
When we’re alone, he starts to paces, agitated. ‘You normally have at least five meals a day. I watched you all dinner. You didn’t eat a thing.’
This wasn’t what I expected. ‘I wasn’t hungry,’ I say.
‘You didn’t touch your blood either. You actually looked queasy when the attendant put it in front of you.’ He grabs me, squeezing my arms and shoulders. ‘Jing, you’re nothing but bones.’
I twist from his grip. Settling onto the terracotta tiles, I lean against the railings. He sits beside me.
There’s no point in lying, not to Tony, so I say, ‘If I try to drink blood, it comes right back up again.’
‘But you need blood to live. You must be ill – have you told Mémère?’
I sigh. ‘To turn you, I had to drain every last drop from your body. I can’t drink blood without remembering you dying in my arms.’
He stares at me so hard I feel like he’s boring holes in my head. Finally he says, ‘But I’m not dead.’
Leaning my head against the railings, I look up at the inky sky. ‘You did die. Your heart stopped. I had to wait for the very last heartbeat before I could give you my blood. I counted twenty breaths, but your heart stayed silent. I was convinced I’d lost you.’ I’m proud of how even my voice is. Hardly a tremor.
‘I didn’t know.’
‘How could you?’ I say.
‘You still shouldn’t have done it.’
Turning, so he can see my whole face, I say, ‘I don’t regret that you are still here, still alive, still stubborn enough to be angry with me. I will never regret that.’
Tony clings to his principles. I can tell he’s annoyed I won’t admit my mistakes. But much to my surprise, he doesn’t leave in a snit. Instead, he too leans his head against the railing.
