Chapter Nine
Sunday morning, still in his pyjamas, Mitchell sat cross-legged on the sofa, blowing on the surface of a mug of freshly brewed coffee while checking work emails. At two-thirty, he had woken with a gasp to the sound of the toilet flushing and someone moving about his apartment—until he remembered having his nephew stay. He’d need time to adjust to another living soul in his space, just as Zane needed to adapt to the time difference.
They had returned from their night out around midnight. After dinner, Zane had come to life as a second wind kicked in and, with Tommy’s encouragement, had agreed to continue enjoying the cooler evening air and the delights of Hong Kong’s nightlife. Despite his tiredness, Mitchell had agreed. At least his sister might get a positive report from her son about his first night away from home.
Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised that Tommy would be such a big hit with Zane, but the two had clicked like long-lost brothers. Moreover, his suggestion for Five Guys had been frighteningly accurate. Zane’s expression had lit up on seeing the wall menu, and he’d devoured his burger, fries and milkshake as though he had not eaten in days.
Instead of heading into Wanchai, Tommy had led them to the nearest MTR underground station, where they had travelled across the harbour to Tsim Sha Tsui. He would not reveal their destination until they approached the waterfront outside the Hong Kong Cultural Centre, where crowds had already gathered. At first Mitchell had assumed they did so for the vantage point, the unique panorama of Hong Kong island seen from the other side of the water. Until the penny dropped. At precisely eight o’clock, synchronised with orchestral music from speakers installed around the quayside, colourful lights had flickered and danced across skyscrapers and other structures around the harbour while laser beams lit up the sky, something Tommy announced as the symphony of lights. Mitchell had noticed the nightly display before, usually through a restaurant window while eating dinner, but had never enjoyed the whole experience in the open.
They had taken the Star Ferry back to Central, and Zane had checked another item off his bucket list. But Tommy had not finished and had led them to Lang Kwai Fong, where revellers—many around the same age as Zane—filled the pedestrianised road. Once again Tommy had demonstrated his popularity, stopping to chat with familiar people along the way and introducing Mitchell and his nephew as friends in fluent English or Cantonese. At one point during the evening, Mitchell remembered smiling his gratitude to Tommy and getting a shrug and a smirk in response. At well after midnight, they’d bade goodnight on the street above the nightlife, where Tommy had made no bones about looking for his bed filler for the night. Sitting in the back of the taxi, Mitchell had envied the stranger who had yet to know he would be sharing Tommy’s bed that night.
Just then, the bedroom door across the living room cracked open. A bleary-eyed Zane in ruffled grey sweats pants and a plain white T-shirt poked his head out. Despite his tiredness, he smiled. Mitchell guessed that at some point during the fun of the past evening, he had decided to relax into the holiday.
“How are you feeling?” asked Mitchell.
“Demolished. Mind if I use the bathroom?”
“Be my guest.”
Zane padded across the wooden floor with a towel over one shoulder and his wash bag in hand. Mitchell turned away and continued checking his messages.
“Did you sleep?”
“At first, yeah. But then, not so much.”
“Thought we’d try the little coffee shop around the block. My haunt on a Sunday morning. They serve the best range of international breakfasts and pastries.”
“Cool.”
Mitchell heard Zane open the bathroom door.
“Tommy’s dope,” came Zane’s voice from the doorway. “He’s the main character, you know? Said you don’t hang out much.”
“We’re very different people.”
“Shame. He’s into you.”
The remark blindsided Mitchell, and he looked up into Zane’s mischievous grin.
“Is that what he told you?”
“No, but the way he takes the piss and you retaliate is better than standup. And he’s more relaxed around you, more like his real self, I guess. Not like when he meets his other friends and becomes a kind of on-duty Tommy, if you know what I mean?”
Mitchell wasn’t sure he did.
“You picked all that up in one evening?”
“What can I say? I pay attention. He said me and him can hang out when you’re busy. Is that going to be okay?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Cool.”
When the bathroom door closed, Mitchell smiled to himself. Tommy had made Zane think their hanging out was his idea, which worked better. Zane wouldn’t feel manipulated.
* * * *
Just before nine-thirty, they headed down the stairs to Mitchell’s apartment, and as Zane walked on ahead, he plucked a red envelope from his letterbox. Mrs Lau’s door was firmly closed, so he thrust the card into his pocket and caught up with Zane.
They strolled the already busy streets of Kennedy Town, fierce sun and humidity warming their skin. Unlike the previous Sunday, grey clouds filled the horizon in the distance, a sure sign of rain later in the day. Mitchell enjoyed watching Zane—perked up after his shower—absorb the local hustle and bustle during their short walk along the road bordering the harbour. Mitchell had been wrong about him. Once he opened up, he had a lot to say. He just needed time to thaw out.
Mitchell opened the café door to a mix of ice-cold air-conditioning and the scent of freshly ground coffee. A server squeezed them into a free table at the window, waiting patiently for them to settle before taking their order.
“Now, before we eat,” said Mitchell. “I have something for you.”
Zane looked apprehensive, but Mitchell smiled, brought his hand out of his pocket and let a set of keys clatter onto the table.
“Keys to the castle. Yours for the duration. Now you can come and go as you please.”
“Oh,” said Zane, picking them up. “Cool.”
“Now that you’re here, let’s talk about some of the more unusual things I think you should consider doing or seeing. Things you can easily do on your own. You’ll have plenty of time during the week while I’m working.”
“Can I take notes on my phone?”
“Of course.”
Zane pulled out his phone and tapped away as Mitchell went through his suggestions, which included a visit to the Man Mo Taoist temple on Hollywood Road and a stroll along the nearby Cat Street Market, getting the bus to various beaches along the south of the island and riding the electric tram from beginning to end, all the way along the north side of the island from Kennedy Town to Shau Kei Wan in the east.
“We hit the Mid-Levels escalator last night, but you’re likely to go there again, and when you do, keep an eye out for a place called Rednaxela Terrace. Grab a shot of the street sign on your phone. There’s an urban myth that the Chinese street sign painter at the time reversed the name Alexander, which is actually an easier mistake to make than we Westerners appreciate. Unlike English, written Chinese is pretty versatile and can be written vertically or horizontally, and can read from right to left.”
“Cool. I’ll add that one to my original list.”
“Start a new one. The five things on your original list were to take a red taxi, ride a ferry across the harbour, take the Central Mid-Levels escalator and visit the Jumbo Floating Restaurant—which, as I told, has already floated away. The only thing left is to take in the views from the Peak Lookout, which is simple enough to do on your own. And I hope you, along with the rest of the tourist population of Hong Kong, enjoy yourself.”
“Not worth the effort?”
“I didn’t say that. On a clear day you can get spectacular views and shots of the territory. Just be warned that there are endless tourist shops up there, and that you have to pay to get access to the best views on the terrace.”
He was interrupted by a member of the waiting staff who approached the table, balancing a tray stacked with food.
“Full American breakfast, apricot Danish and a large wild berry shake,” came her amused voice. Zane held his hand in the air.
“Hope you’ve got an appetite?” she said, putting food down before him.
“Watch me.”
Mitchell grinned. He remembered his college days when he could eat to his heart’s content, day or night, without worrying about putting on a pound.
“I also have an order of a wholemeal bagel and a pot of English breakfast tea.”
“And that, I’m afraid, will be me.”
The woman smiled and gave Mitchell a sympathetic look while placing the items. Once she had gone, they ate in companionable silence for a while.
“I thought we might take a ferry to Lantau Island today. We can visit the Big Buddha and nearby monastery,” said Mitchell. “After that, we’ll take the glass-bottomed cable car down from there to Tung Chung and catch the tube train home. How does that sound?”
“Cool.”
Mitchell had begun to recognise the sincerity of Zane’s enthusiasm by the depth or lack of emotion he used to utter that single, monosyllabic word. The visit to Lantau was met with lukewarm to middling excitement.
“And if I let you choose dinner tonight, what type of food would you pick? What’s your favourite?”
“Out of anything?”
“Anything. But please. Not Five Guys two nights running.”
Zane snorted. “Ribeye steak—”
“Mitchell!” rose a voice from across the café.
“Hold that thought,” said Mitchell.
He had recognised Kate’s voice instantly. He looked around, bewildered, at the other tables until Zane pointed over his shoulder. Kate stood at the counter, balancing a cardboard cup of coffee and a bottle of something orange. Her cheeks glowed red either from the warm morning or her efforts to control Angel, who pulled at her hand. At least Kate seemed pleased to see him. When he stood up and waved them over, Angel turned in their direction and appeared to calm.
“What are you doing slumming it in this part of town?” asked Mitchell after giving Kate a peck on the cheek, waving a hand at Angel and taking his seat. “Do you want to join us?”
“Can’t, I’m afraid. Tons to do this morning,” said Kate, tilting her head to Angel. “Beth asked me to drop some papers off. One of her clients lives out this way.”
“Is Beth working again?”
Kate smiled with resignation. “Isn’t she always?”
“This is Kate,” said Mitchell to Zane, who nodded a welcome. “We work together. And this is Angel, her—”
Mitchell looked to Kate for help. How was he supposed to introduce their new addition? Kate snorted at Mitchell before taking up.
“We’re not using specifics for the time being,” she explained before addressing Zane directly. “Angel’s living with us right now while she decides whether she wants to stay permanently. She thinks of me as her auntie.”
“Auntie Kate,” said Angel, playing with the paper straw in her drink and not paying attention.
“And this is my nephew, Zane,” said Mitchell. “He arrived yesterday from England.”
“Which means Mitchell is Zane’s uncle,” said Kate.
“Are you ’dopted?” asked Angel, suddenly interested.
“No,” answered Zane patiently, but Mitchell noticed a slight frown crease his brow.
“You don’t much look like your uncle,” said Angel, glaring at Zane. “You’re a different colour.”
“Zane looks like his daddy,” said Mitchell without missing a beat, but Kate had already begun to lead Angel to an open space away from the table before crouching to whisper to her.
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” said Zane to Mitchell.
“Don’t you? I do. I think you’ve lucked out on the gene pool front with Rob’s good looks and my sister’s intelligence. A pretty lethal combination, in my honest opinion.”
Zane shrugged but did not smile. Had he experienced problems at school being biracial? Was that a part of why he didn’t socialise much? Mitchell remembered watching an interview with Barack Obama where he talked about the difficulties of being accepted by people. But both of Zane’s siblings seemed to have thrived without any problems. Moreover, Ellie had mentioned nothing and very little managed to get past her. Maybe Mitchell would broach the conversation with Zane at some point.
Kate returned to the table and eyed Mitchell an apology. Mitchell didn’t miss the frown Angel sent Zane’s way and wondered what Kate had said to her.
“We won’t disturb you any longer. Angel’s going to a princes and princesses party this afternoon in Clearwater Bay. We still need to visit the fancy dress shops on Pottinger to pick out some finishing touches for her outfit. But you’ll have to bring Zane over for dinner one night when you’re both free. I’ll pop by and speak to you in the office early Monday morning. Also, I have some news I need to share.”
“Sounds ominous.”
“Monday. Enjoy your weekend.”
Kate gave him a cryptic smile and a wink before instructing Angel to bid them goodbye and heading out of the door. Zane continued eating his food while Mitchell poured himself another cup of tea.
“They’re planning to adopt Angel,” said Mitchell. “Poor little thing has had a difficult childhood.”
“Whatever,” came the icy response.
Mitchell had placed his phone on silent but noticed the device buzzing on the table’s surface. Pauline’s name appeared on the display. He had learnt to quash his annoyance at seeing her name, especially at the weekend.
“Give me a minute, Zane,” he said, snatching up the device. “I need to take this.”
Mitchell pushed out of the café door into a wall of humidity before thumbing to accept the call.
“Mitchell, I know it’s Sunday, but I need you to come to work.”
“I have my nephew with me.”
“I’m sorry, but this can’t wait. I fly to London late tonight for the board meeting tomorrow and I need you to help me collate figures and access personnel files before I leave. Forearmed, and all that.”
“What time do you need me?”
“I’ll be there around midday, but I’ve got a couple of things of my own to do. Can you be here for two?”
“Fine. Have you asked Helen?”
“Just you. And please don’t call her. The fewer people that know, the better. I’ll see you soon.”
While Mitchell was talking, the clouds had moved closer to shore, and he felt a few raindrops on his skin. When he returned to the table Zane had finished his food and lounged back in his chair, checking his phone.
“I’m sorry,” said Mitchell, taking his seat. “We’ll have to take a raincheck on the Big Buddha. Although, by the looks of the weather, that’s not such a bad plan. I need to go to work this afternoon.”
“On a Sunday? Is that even legal?”
“It’s not illegal and it doesn’t happen often. This is kind of an emergency.”
“Man, your job sucks.”
“Sometimes. Are you going to be okay on your own?”
Disappointment flashed momentarily across Zane’s face, something he quickly masked by nodding his understanding before peering out of the café window. Mitchell felt a mix of anger and remorse—anger at his boss for being cold and unsympathetic and guilt for leaving his nephew alone in a foreign country.
“Sure. I’ll find something to do.”
“Hang on. I have an idea.”
Mitchell hesitated only a moment. Would he be out of line calling in a favour from Tommy at ten-thirty on a Sunday morning? Tommy’s previous Sunday mornings had been hijacked, and he might take exception to having another one disturbed. And what if his hook-up was still there? But he had gotten along so well with Zane the night before. And they had, after all, agreed to help each other out, with Tommy promising to show Zane around.
Just as Mitchell unlocked his phone to find Tommy’s contact number, the device vibrated with Tommy’s name showing on the screen.
“Tommy Chow? Are you psychic?” asked Mitchell, and he noticed Zane’s mood soften.
“Sorry?” replied Tommy with what sounded like a snort of humour.
“I was just about to dial your number. Purposely resisting until after midday under pain of death. Yes, I hadn’t forgotten. And here you are calling me.”
This time Tommy chuckled with amusement.
“Yes, well. Looks like I cannot resist your charms.”
“Yeah, right. What’s up?” asked Mitchell. “You sound good. Must have had your morning coffee.”
“Don’t push it, Mitchell. Coffee’s only just brewing. But I’m calling on the off chance you could do me a favour. Are you and Zane free this afternoon?”