“Put me to work,” I said. “I’ll do anything I can.”
“We could send Molly out to every candlemaker in the Village,” Gus said.
“The bad weather may pass over,” Sid said. “We may be able to hold it in the garden and use our paper lanterns after all. It’s more important to make sure the ice is delivered or our tubs of ice cream will be a disaster.”
And they were off, discussing party provisions and whether they should serve the fruit salads in individual rock melons. I found it hard to think of domestic details while a girl waited up in that room.
“I’ll go and make up a bed in your studio then, Gus,” I said. “And if I may, can I take up some food and drink to Bo Kei? I don’t know what she’s had to eat today.”
Then, of course, they fussed around, suggesting all kinds of delicacies that might tempt a Chinese palate. Sid even wanted to get out her Chinese cookbook and see how to make bird’s nest soup. I stopped them and took up a cheese sandwich and an orange. The way she devoured them made me think that she hadn’t had breakfast. I then explained about the party, how busy we’d be, and how she must stay well hidden when the guests arrived. I found her some books, although I wasn’t sure whether she had learned to read much English. She was more interested in the dolls that Gus had sitting on a corner shelf and I was reminded again that she was little more than a child herself.
Then I went down to join in the preparations. As with everything that Sid and Gus did, they threw themselves into it wholeheartedly. Some might say that they went overboard. By evening the tables in the conservatory were groaning under the weight of hams and cold chicken and salads and exotic cheeses. There was asparagus in aspic and oysters and potted shrimp, fresh fruits of all kinds, including pineapples, which I had never seen before, cake stands of tiny French pastries, and tubs of ice cream keeping cool for the right moment. Then there were drinks of all descriptions—fruit punches and chilled white wines for the ladies, claret and stout for the men. They had even borrowed the young man who normally worked in their favorite tavern to act as barman. There were Japanese lanterns and banks of candles waiting to be lit, flowers on the tables, and greenery trailing from the picture rails.
As I stood and surveyed the scene and thought of the cost of it all, it dawned on me that this was all for me. The thought was so overwhelming that I felt tears springing into my eyes. They had been good friends since they took me under their wing at a difficult moment in my life and they had constantly rescued me and cheered me up ever since. And I—I had repaid them by constantly rushing around and making demands on them. I watched them standing there, admiring their handiwork, and I came to a sudden decision.
“I’ve changed my mind,” I said. “I want you two to be my bridesmaids.”
They looked around. “But I thought we’d been through this. Daniel doesn’t approve of us. His mother wouldn’t approve of us.”
“I approve of you,” I said. “You are my dear friends, closer to me than family. If you are not at my side, then the wedding won’t be perfect.”
“Well, if you insist…” Gus looked pink and pleased.
“Only one stipulation,” I said. “You are not to dress as French maids or nuns or anything else outlandish.”
“Spoilsport.” Sid laughed. “Don’t worry, we shall not disgrace you. We were both brought up to behave properly in polite society and you shall help us select the most demure of dresses. And you’ll find that Daniel’s mother will be overwhelmed by having one of the Boston Walcotts in the bridal procession.”
I laughed too. “You’re right. She’ll be thrilled.”
Twenty-three
At six o’clock the heavens suddenly opened and we rushed into the garden, frantically trying to carry in furniture and rescue the lanterns. We were soaked to the skin by the time we had finished.
“Look at us,” Gus said, laughing as water trickled down her face. “Talk about orphans of the storm. Let us just pray that our guests don’t arrive early.”
You can see why these two women were so dear to me. Most young ladies would be mortified that their coiffure was ruined. Sid and Gus were simply amused.
“I think we should sample the punch to fortify ourselves, don’t you?” Sid poured us each a generous glass.
I went up to change and visited Bo Kei on the way. We had been having such good fun that I had forgotten for a moment that she was virtually a prisoner up there in Gus’s studio. She eyed me hopefully as I came in.
“You have news of Frederick?” she asked.
Then I felt guilty that I hadn’t done more. But in all honesty, there was nothing I could do at this moment, other than keep Bo Kei safe and out of Captain Kear’s clutches. I could hardly go to the Sixth Precinct and petition on Frederick’s behalf without revealing my own involvement. And Daniel had made it quite clear that I was to stay away.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve heard nothing yet. They will probably keep him in a cell overnight. They do that sometimes, hoping that a prisoner will break down and confess. But Frederick is innocent. We know that and I’m sure the police will realize it too.”
“Poor Frederick. That he should suffer for me,” she said. “Surely the American police are smart and they will soon discover who really killed Lee Sing Tai.”
“I hope so,” I said, not wanting to tell her that Captain Kear was probably not going to investigate when he had a bird in hand, so to speak.
“Who could have killed my master, I wonder?” she said, staring out of the window at the rain.
“Do you have any ideas on the subject?”
“Me?” she asked sharply. “How would I have ideas about this? I know nothing about his life. I was not allowed to leave the house. I was sent to my room when he had guests. I only meet wife number one, and Bobby Lee.”
“And what about them?” I asked. “Could either of them have killed him?”
She looked shocked. “Kill their benefactor?” Then I saw her considering this. “Wife number one could not kill him,” she said. “She is too frail. Besides, he is her protector in a foreign land. With Lee Sing Tai gone, what will happen to her?”
