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Leo chuckled and shook his head.
‘I want to go to Cambridge and meet up with some of my old postgrad colleagues,’ Mr Chen said. ‘It’s been a long time.’
‘You studied at Cambridge?’ I said, and yelped when Leo dug me in the ribs again. I slapped his arm. ‘Cut it out!’
‘Leo, I think I am capable of telling Miss Donahoe if I do not wish to answer her questions,’ Mr Chen said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘I have a PhD from Cambridge. I did it about…’ He paused, thinking. ‘Thirty years ago, I think. I had to rewrite the thesis six times before they’d accept it. I nearly gave up.’
‘Thirty years ago? How old were you when you did it?’
His face shifted until he seemed younger, in his mid-twenties. ‘I was about twenty-five when I studied there.’ He changed again, until he appeared in his mid-fifties. ‘I will be about fifty-five when I go back.’ He changed back to his mid-thirties.
Dear Lord, it was real. I was working for a god!
‘My Lord, that was an unnecessary waste of your energy,’ Leo said, irritated.
‘What?’ I said, glancing from Leo to Mr Chen.
Leo thrust his hand palm-up towards Mr Chen. ‘Throws his energy away all the time.’
I turned my attention back to Mr Chen. ‘Please don’t waste your energy on small things.’
‘Oh come on,’ Mr Chen said. ‘You should have seen the look on your face.’ He smiled at me and his eyes wrinkled up. I felt a rush of affection for him, then pushed it away. Only around for a limited time, and not even human. No chance.
‘What was your PhD in?’ I said.
‘Comparative literature. I compared the stories surrounding the English King Arthur with the stories surrounding me. It was fascinating to draw the parallels – the stories become more embroidered and elaborate as time passes. My supervisor had never even heard of me, he hadn’t done much Chinese literature. He said I was very interesting.’
I choked back the laugh. ‘I’d love to read it.’
‘It’s in my study somewhere.’
‘Oh geez, I’ll never see it then.’ I rounded on Leo before he could dig me in the ribs again and shoved him. ‘Cut it out!’
Mr Chen chuckled. ‘You’ve family here in England, don’t you?’
‘Yes, a big sister. Moved to England with her husband about ten years ago. I haven’t seen her in ages.’
‘If you would like to take some time to visit her, you can,’ Mr Chen said.
‘No, thanks.’
‘You should see your family, Emma.’
‘Maybe next time.’
‘Very well, but next time you will see them.’
I sighed. ‘Okay.’
‘What’s the matter – problems with your family?’ Leo said.
‘None of your business.’
‘Suit yourself.’ He looked away. ‘At least I know when not to ask questions.’
‘Bastard,’ I said under my breath. ‘I heard that,’ he said, a low rumble.
Simone woke as we were passing Hyde Park in Kensington and watched the scenery with delight.
The limousine stopped in a quiet leafy side street outside a white four-storey townhouse with towering ground-floor windows.
A caricature of an English butler waited at the front door: mid-fifties, bow tie, the whole works. The driver opened the door for us and Simone ran to the butler and threw herself into his arms. She kissed him quickly, then pulled herself free and ran into the house.
‘Help the others with the bags, James,’ Mr Chen said, walking up the stairs to the entry.
James came down the stairs to the boot of the car.
Leo stopped in front of him. ‘I don’t need your help, Mr O’Brien.’
‘Orders, Mr Alexander,’ James snapped back.
They stood and glared at each other. I decided to go inside the house without getting involved.
I followed Mr Chen into the entry hall. Old-fashioned black and white tiles covered the floor, and the ceiling stretched away forever. Curved stairs led to the next floor up, with more stairs to higher levels. What appeared to be expensive European art hung on the walls.
Simone was hugging and giggling with a grandmotherly English woman wearing a pale blue maid’s uniform.
‘I missed you, Charlie!’ Simone cried.
‘I missed you too, little Princess,’ Charlie said, lifting Simone and squeezing her. She lowered Simone to look at her properly. ‘You are growing so fast, you’re already a proper little lady.’
‘That’s what Aunty Kwan said.’ Simone screwed up her face. ‘I’m hungry.’
Charlie smiled at me. She had a soft, round face with cheerful sparkling blue eyes. Her greying brown hair was tied in a loose bun.
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘I’m Emma, Simone’s nanny.’
‘Pleased to meet you.’ She smiled down at Simone. ‘Let’s go and find you something to eat.’ She patted my arm. ‘Would you like something, Emma?’
‘A cup of tea would be lovely, Charlie,’ I said.
‘Me too, Charlie, in the study,’ Mr Chen said from where he was checking some documents on a rosewood hall table.
Leo and James came in with the bags, still glowering at each other.
Mr Chen saw them. ‘Will you two let it go!’
Leo and James dropped their heads, apologetic.
‘Put Miss Donahoe’s bags in the room next to Simone’s, James,’ Mr Chen said. ‘And as soon as you two are finished with the bags I want to see both of you in my study.’
Charlie spoke conspiratorially to Simone and me. ‘Come on, girls, let’s leave these silly men to their own business.’
Mr Chen glanced up at us, eyes sparkling, from the other side of the entry, but didn’t say anything.
Charlie sat us at the kitchen table and gave Simone some warm scones with lashings of jam and cream. Simone messily buried her face in them, and slurped on some milk.
‘What’s the problem between James and Leo?’ I asked.
‘James will never forgive Leo,’ Charlie said. ‘He blames him for…’ She hesitated, and glanced at Simone. ‘You know. What happened.’
‘I don’t think it was Leo’s fault,’ I said. ‘He’s very good.’
‘It wasn’t Leo’s fault at all, dear,’ Charlie said, ‘but I think James has to blame somebody.’
Charlie and I were firm friends by the time James came in.
‘I’ve put your bags in your room, Emma,’ he said, and I nodded my thanks. He didn’t lose his crisp London accent, and I began to suspect that the old-fashioned butler thing wasn’t an act. He bent over Simone to kiss the top of her head. ‘Hello, sweetie.’
‘Hello, James,’ Simone said through a crumbly mouthful of scone.
James pulled a cup and saucer from a cupboard and sat at the table with us. Charlie poured him some tea.
‘So, Emma,’ he said, ‘how long have you worked for Mr Chen?’
‘Full-time, about six months,’ I said. ‘But I’d been caring for Simone part-time for another six months before that.’
‘And Simone is happy?’ James said.
Simone nodded through her food.
‘Good. Where are you from, Emma?’
‘Australia. Queensland.’
‘Don’t know anyone there,’ James said.
‘How long have you worked for Mr Chen?’
James hesitated, probably working out something suitable in his head.
‘It’s okay, I know,’ I said.
‘What, already?’ Charlie said.
Simone piped up. ‘We were followed by some demons in Paris. Leo caught one, but Aunty Kwan let it go. So Leo had to tell Emma about Daddy and everything.’
The English staff shared a look. ‘A demon, eh, Simone?’ James said.
‘Yes,’ Simone said with confidence. ‘That’s the right word, isn’t it?’ she added, unsure.
‘Yes, pet, that’s the right word,’ Charlie said kindly. She stiffened and spoke more sternly, ‘I’ll have none of that here.’
‘Not much we can do about it, is there?’ James said.
‘Daddy and Leo will look after us,’ Simone said, full of confidence.
‘They had better,’ James said.
‘So, James,’ I said, trying to turn the conversation away from a topic that might frighten Simone, ‘how long have you worked here?’
‘My family’s been in Mr Chen’s employ for five generations,’ James said. ‘I hope my nephew will take up the mantle when I retire, he’s majoring in hospitality.’
‘My family’s been looking after him for three generations,’ Charlie said. She smiled indulgently at Simone. ‘If only my grandmother could see you, dear.’
‘Mr Chen’s owned this house for about a hundred and fifty years,’ James said. ‘Keeps it very well maintained.’
‘A hundred and fifty years? He’s been coming to the UK for that long?’
‘Longer than that,’ Charlie said. ‘Apparently he’s very unusual in being able to do it, most of them can’t. The records say he stayed away during the Wars, but he’s spent a lot of time here otherwise – diplomatic and trading things.’
‘Wars? World Wars?’
‘Opium Wars,’ James said. ‘Bad times. Don’t even think he was in China. Probably went to the top of the Mountain in disgust. Very unhappy about the whole thing.’
‘He wasn’t involved?’
‘Of course not,’ Charlie said, genuinely shocked. ‘He is an honourable man.’
‘Played cricket for Cambridge when he studied there,’ James said proudly. ‘Best bowler in the team. Brutal fast ball. Broke the lights in the front hall practising.’
‘Twice,’ Charlie said.
I had to laugh; but I could see it.
‘But we haven’t seen nearly as much of him as we’d like, with things the way they are. He spends most of his time in Hong Kong now,’ Charlie said. ‘Poor dear can’t even go to his Mountain. It’s very hard for him.’
‘When Daddy goes, I’m going with him,’ Simone said. ‘We’ll go and live on his Mountain together.’
We all shared a silent look.
Charlie wrapped her arm around Simone’s shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze. ‘We’ll just have to see what happens, dear.’ She smiled at me without releasing Simone. ‘Go and unpack, Emma. Simone and I will be fine here, we have a lot of catching up to do.’
‘I’ll show you the way,’ James said, rising.
‘Thanks.’
I lifted the suitcase onto my bed, then fell to sit beside it. He’d owned the house for a hundred and fifty years. They’d been working for him for generations. He’d studied in Cambridge thirty years ago.
