“I... I was worried she hasn’t eaten,” I lied.
“Oh.” Sai Ma’s voice softened. “What a good sister you are, Yut Ying. Not to concern yourself, I brought her breakfast.”
She descended, meeting me on the second floor. Her hand still rested on the railing. “Did Tingting bring you and Syun Kit the soup?”
“She did,” I replied. Yi Gor wouldn’t touch it, but I’d forced myself to drink every drop.
“You must take care of your health, it’s the most important thing we can do for ourselves.” She patted my shoulder, leaning down, even though in her platformed slippers she towered a mere inch above me. “I wanted to tell you, I got a new record in the city yesterday. It’s Yeung An Nie’s newest song, shall we listen together?”
I hesitated. Any other time, I would have jumped at the chance to finally spend time with her, but I couldn’t forget my encounter with Lily.
Then you’re a liar,she had said.You’ll fit right in here.
I brushed aside my doubts. Sai Ma had been nothing but kind to me. I couldn’t fathom that she would be anything less to her own daughter. She must be exhausted, I reasoned. It had to be uncomfortable, growing an entire baby inside her.
“I’d love to listen with you,” I replied.
“Good.” Sai Ma patted me on the shoulder. She paused at the parlor door. “I forgot to tell you, we keep this room locked when it isn’t in use.”
I lowered my gaze to the bronze lock. “Why?”
“It’s a precaution we started during the war. Even in a neighborhood as safe as Happy Valley, you’ll hear about thieves breaking into houses, stealing valuables, and worse.” Sai Ma dropped her voice as she closed the door behind us. “I keep a spare key under the bauhinia tree. Not even Susu or Tingting know about it, but I like you, Yut Ying, and I trust you. You mustn’t tell anyone. Promise?”
It was an innocent question, yet the cadence of her words sounded extra heavy, extra laden with intent.Whose side will you choose?she seemed to ask.
The sunlight fell behind Sai Ma, painting her awash with gold. She looked as lovely as the goddess of benevolence herself, and caught in the spell of her beauty, I forgot to wonder what the other side mightbe.
“I promise.”
Chapter Eight
A week later, Sai Ma asked me if I’d like to go shopping.
“We could use another catty of rice,” I remarked without thinking. “And more pork bones and fish maw for broth.”
She laughed. “I’m not going to the market. Susu will buy whatever we need.”
Then I noticed how dressed up Sai Ma was today. Her hair was curled into ringlets, her dusty pink lips defined with liner. On her shoulder was a round green purse that perfectly matched the floraldevoréof her cheongsam, and the pearls studded onto her ears were as big as five-dollar coins.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To my favorite place in the world,” she replied. With that, she put on her hat, tilting it so it covered half of her face, and motioned for me to follow her into the waiting car.
Twenty minutes later, we arrived at Bastion Department Store. It was the grandest place I’d ever seen, with its enormous shop windows, vertical granite walls, and blue marble pillars, all spanning an entire block.
A man in a suit opened the door for us, and two shopgirls bowed as we entered. They were all looking at Sai Ma. How she glided inside in her velvet cheongsam, the jewels on her wrist as shiny as the polished floors, her steps small and fluttering like the belle of a Cantonese opera. She clearly belonged here.
“I’ll be on the second level with the tailor.” She opened her purse, taking out twenty cents. “Go to the basement and treatyourself to a bag of jellies. The pink ones are Lily’s favorite. The toy department is on the third level, and sometimes there’s a girl by the stairs singing.”
She knew exactly how to get my attention.Live music?I perked. “Thank you, Sai Ma.”
“No need to call me that while we’re in public,” she added. “Grace will do, it’s what your father calls me.”
I couldn’t fathom calling an elder by their first name, especially in English, so I simply nodded.
Once she was gone, I climbed the stairs to the third floor. Nothing could tempt me, not the posters of sodas and silk-stocking milk tea or the warm aroma of toast wafting from the basement. Not even the rows of lace-hemmed dresses and shiny buckled shoes or the stuffed bears in the children’s section on the second floor.
On the top floor of Bastion’s were two restaurants overlooking Hong Kong, as well as a stage surrounded by a smattering of bored husbands. I picked a chair in the back row and sat, copying how I’d seen Sai Ma rest her hands on her lap and cross her ankles. Before long, a willowy Eurasian woman ascended the five short steps to the parqueted platform. Her black hair was swept to one side of her neck, pinned by a silken white flower, and she carried a feathered fan, batting it coquettishly while she swayed about. The men set down their newspapers.
