When Lin finished her meal with a long, deep sigh of satisfaction there was not much left on the table. “Would you like a drink now?” I asked, reaching for the bottle.
“I might try.”
“Cheer up a little, Lin… Things will be better from now on.”
As we drank the wine, I looked at her. In the strong light she seemed much younger than before. I knew that she was from a decent family, and I wanted to know more about her past. I had already made up my mind about her immediate future. I would take her to the only possible place I could think of, Colonel Houssong’s house. I was certain he wouldn’t object. Later on we might contact the British Consul. After all, Lin had been born in Hong Kong and her father was British. She did not tell me where her family was. I suspected that her parents were dead, but her father ought to have relatives somewhere.
I excused myself and went to the phone. Colonel Houssong listened to my story without interruption, then asked me to hold the line. I knew he was consulting with his wife. They had a sixteen-year-old daughter, Yvette, and a fifteen-year-old son, Jacques. Madame Houssong, I knew, was generous to charities, and she was spending much of her spare time and household savings on refugees.
The phone clicked, and I again heard the colonel’s well-known, throaty voice. “Well, bring her over, Wagemueller,” he said. He could not refrain from adding teasingly: “Your humanitarian aspirations are truly overwhelming. You should have joined the Salvation Army instead of the Waffen SS.”
“Oui, mon colonel… It might have been a better idea.”
I returned to the table and sat down. “Lin, you are coming with me.”
“With you?” she exclaimed. “Where to?”
“To some place where you can sleep.”
She blushed. I gave her a mysterious look and her eyes widened.
“I… I cannot do that,” she muttered, barely audible. “I… please…”
“I hope you are not afraid of me, Lin?”
“Still…”
She lighted a cigarette nervously, then averting her eyes she asked, “Are you… living alone?” I laughed. “I am not taking you to my place or to a cheap hotel, if that’s what you are thinking, Lin.”
Instantly she seemed relieved. “I am taking you to a very nice family where you will find a girl of your age and a temporary home. Then we shall see what we can do about your getting a British passport.”
“I am so sorry…”
“1 understand you, Lin. Don’t worry.”
The colonel’s family was waiting for us. They all eyed Lin with sympathy as she sat on the edge of a chair twisting her hands. She looked like a frightened little bird. “Please, excuse me.”
She was finding it hard to form her words. “I really… I did not want to disturb you… If only I could stay for the rest of the night…”
“Of course you will stay!” Madame Houssong reassured her cheerfully. “We have enough rooms.”
Yvette stepped forward. “I am Yvette,” she said reaching for Lin’s hand. “Do you really come from China?”
“Yes, Yvette.”
“It must have been awful…”
“It was hell” Lin exclaimed. The surprise in Yvette’s face dissolved in a warm smile. She embraced Lin lightly and I saw her parents exchanging glances. “Now you will be all right, cherie,” she said softly. “You will stay with us.”
Lin made a swift half-turn, raising her hand to her eyes. Her shoulders quivered under the sudden strain of emotions which she tried to control.
“Let her relax!” Madame Houssong ushered Yvette aside.
The colonel interposed. “Why don’t we go into the salon?” Lin turned. “Please, I feel… so filthy…” she muttered. Her voice trailed off and her cheeks flushed.
“Do you want a bath?” Yvette asked.
“I would like it very much,” Lin replied, her face now ablaze. She felt embarrassed, but Madame Houssong came to her rescue. She called the maid and ordered her to prepare a bath for Lin. The maid took the girl to the bathroom and we sat down. The colonel prepared drinks and questioned me briefly about our trip. Then Yvette turned to me.
“How old is Lin?”
“She will be eighteen in September.”
Yvette turned on her heels and disappeared into the other room. When she returned her face was flushed with excitement and she was carrying a pile of clothes which she cheerfully dumped onto the couch. “I think we can give these to Lin,” she explained. “I really don’t need them and we are about the same size.”
Her generous offer warmed my heart and I noticed a smile of approval on her mother’s face. “Tomorrow I will buy her a pair of nice shoes.”
“Have you any money?” the colonel asked nonchalantly.
“I have my savings.”
“I thought you wanted to buy a stereo set.”
“Well,” Yvette sighed, lifting and dropping her shoulders, “poor Lin needs more important things now.”
When Lin reappeared, we all looked at her astonished. Her cheeks were pink, the weariness in her eyes was gone, and with her hair washed, dried, and tightened with a blue ribbon, her face was transformed. All the hardness had vanished from her features and she looked younger than Yvette. Her legs were beautifully shaped and the light summer dress that Yvette had given her made her look even more slender. I could have encircled her waist between my hands.
After coffee, Lin began talking about her life—and soon our cheerfulness was gone.. The air in the room seemed to grow heavier and heavier.
“We used to live near Hankow beside a wonderful lake,” Lin began. “My father built a cottage there. He was an architect. They were building a hospital at Hankow. My father’s name was Carver, John Carver. My mother was from China. She was the best mother, good and beautiful like an angel. I was their only child and they loved me more than anything on earth. My mother used to call me “my little blue sky.”
They bought me the best of everything and every summer we went to the sea near Shanghai. When the Communists approached Hankow my father refused to evacuate. He did not want to give up everything he had been working for. He wanted to finish the hospital and said that not even the Communists would prevent him from building a hospital for their own people.
“When the siege came he took me to a friend of his, a missionary doctor who lived in a small Christian colony with his wife, also a doctor. My parents thought I’d be safer at the missionary station. There were only teachers, priests, nurses, and doctors caring for old people and children. They did not think of themselves, only of me. My father decided to stay in the partly finished hospital. There were already hundreds of crates of expensive surgical equipment stored in the cellars, gifts from the American and British people. He was afraid that the ignorant soldiers might loot the containers or destroy the machines. My father was sure that once he spoke to the Communist commander, he would be permitted to continue with his work. How wrong my poor father was…”
She sighed deeply and her eyes clouded. “The fathers and sisters at the missionary station worked night and day. More and more people were brought in, most of them wounded. Many of them had to sleep in the open and the doctors operated on a table in the yard. I have seen so much suffering—and as the front came nearer and nearer…”
She broke off again, lifting her hand to her eyes nervously. Madame Houssong urged her not to continue if she felt tired. But Lin only shook her head. “Oh, no, if I won’t make you tired…”
Colonel Houssong then shook his head.
“One morning a couple of wounded soldiers came and told us that the Communist army had already occupied the hospital compound for three hours but had been driven out again. Of my parents they knew nothing. When they told me that, I just picked up my little doll and ran out of the station. I ran like a maniac all the way. I did not hear the explosions or the bullets, I did not see the burning houses. I just ran, jumping over debris, broken furniture, and deep craters—many of them full with corpses.”
Lin flushed and her breasts heaved; her breath came in little gasps but she went on bravely. “I found our
