were established by the Chinese intelligence services in the sixties. The aim of the first school was to produce Chinese men and women who could pass themselves off as fully assimilated second-or third-or even fourth-generation Americans.
‘They took boys and girls at the earliest possible age and immersed them in American life and culture. They were brought up like Americans, in every respect. They spoke English every day. Their teachers were Americans who’d been well paid to do the job and keep quiet about it. The children watched American films and read American books and ate American food. Television programmes were recorded on primitive video machines. The latest records from the States or Britain were flown in. By the time they reached their teens, these were Chinese children only in spirit.’
‘Tursun, you’re not remotely like an American.’
‘I’m sorry, I should have explained. That was the first school. I think four American schools were set up in the end. They still exist, but I don’t know where they are. When they saw how successful the experiment was, they began to open other schools. There was a school for German, another for French, another for Spanish. That was when they started bringing in children from minority races, like myself. Han Chinese can’t pass themselves off as second-or third-generation everywhere.
‘I was discovered when I was four years old. Most Uighur children don’t try to speak Chinese until they’re taught it at school, and even then very few become fluent. By the age of four I’d learned as much Mandarin as a Chinese boy of my age. I had an ability for languages. One of the local cadres heard about me and notified Peking.
One week later, I was on a plane to Shanghai. The school I lived at was designed to train children for a life in Great Britain. Mostly, we were supposed to pass ourselves off as the children or grandchildren of Hong Kong Chinese. I was to pretend to be descended from Turkish Cypriots.’
‘You’d have done it perfectly, believe me. I’d like to know more about this later. But now I’d like you to tell me about Matthew Hyde.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
T he heat had gone from the night. A faint ghost of it remained in corners, among the roots of trees, beneath the eaves of the house, or swathed about clumps of hollyhock and fern. David shivered and stepped to the French window. He looked out into the darkness briefly, then drew the curtains. Suddenly he sneezed, then several times more.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, turning to Tursun. ‘Hay fever.’
‘You should try some Chinese medicine.’
David smiled.
‘Are you cold?’ he asked.
Tursun shook his head. He had crossed from Sinkiang to Ladakh at the end of winter, he knew what cold was.
David returned to his seat.
‘How did you meet Matthew?’
‘He was in the camp. I met him about a week after he was brought there. He was arrested by a man called Chang Zhangyi. Chang Zhangyi is …’
‘I know who he is. Only too well.’
‘Your friend was in a queue for food. He muttered something in English when they handed him a plateful of muck, and I went up to him and said there were ways to get hold of better food. We became friends, of course. They treated him very brutally, much worse than the Chinese or the Uighurs. I did what I could to help, but it was very little. He was a good man. I liked him. Even when things were very hard for him, he would cheer me up.’
‘He always was a bit of a cheery blighter. There were times I felt like thumping him. How come he ended up in a labour camp?’
‘He told me he thought it was a trick to see what he might say if he was caught off guard. The camps are full of informers. It usually involves a deal to take a year or two off someone’s sentence. You can never be sure who’s genuine, who’s working for the party.’
‘Matthew would never have fallen for something like that. I’m surprised they even bothered trying.’
‘That’s what he
‘They took boys and girls at the earliest possible age and immersed them in American life and culture. They were brought up like Americans, in every respect. They spoke English every day. Their teachers were Americans who’d been well paid to do the job and keep quiet about it. The children watched American films and read American books and ate American food. Television programmes were recorded on primitive video machines. The latest records from the States or Britain were flown in. By the time they reached their teens, these were Chinese children only in spirit.’
‘Tursun, you’re not remotely like an American.’
‘I’m sorry, I should have explained. That was the first school. I think four American schools were set up in the end. They still exist, but I don’t know where they are. When they saw how successful the experiment was, they began to open other schools. There was a school for German, another for French, another for Spanish. That was when they started bringing in children from minority races, like myself. Han Chinese can’t pass themselves off as second-or third-generation everywhere.
‘I was discovered when I was four years old. Most Uighur children don’t try to speak Chinese until they’re taught it at school, and even then very few become fluent. By the age of four I’d learned as much Mandarin as a Chinese boy of my age. I had an ability for languages. One of the local cadres heard about me and notified Peking.
One week later, I was on a plane to Shanghai. The school I lived at was designed to train children for a life in Great Britain. Mostly, we were supposed to pass ourselves off as the children or grandchildren of Hong Kong Chinese. I was to pretend to be descended from Turkish Cypriots.’
‘You’d have done it perfectly, believe me. I’d like to know more about this later. But now I’d like you to tell me about Matthew Hyde.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
T he heat had gone from the night. A faint ghost of it remained in corners, among the roots of trees, beneath the eaves of the house, or swathed about clumps of hollyhock and fern. David shivered and stepped to the French window. He looked out into the darkness briefly, then drew the curtains. Suddenly he sneezed, then several times more.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, turning to Tursun. ‘Hay fever.’
‘You should try some Chinese medicine.’
David smiled.
‘Are you cold?’ he asked.
Tursun shook his head. He had crossed from Sinkiang to Ladakh at the end of winter, he knew what cold was.
David returned to his seat.
‘How did you meet Matthew?’
‘He was in the camp. I met him about a week after he was brought there. He was arrested by a man called Chang Zhangyi. Chang Zhangyi is …’
‘I know who he is. Only too well.’
‘Your friend was in a queue for food. He muttered something in English when they handed him a plateful of muck, and I went up to him and said there were ways to get hold of better food. We became friends, of course. They treated him very brutally, much worse than the Chinese or the Uighurs. I did what I could to help, but it was very little. He was a good man. I liked him. Even when things were very hard for him, he would cheer me up.’
‘He always was a bit of a cheery blighter. There were times I felt like thumping him. How come he ended up in a labour camp?’
‘He told me he thought it was a trick to see what he might say if he was caught off guard. The camps are full of informers. It usually involves a deal to take a year or two off someone’s sentence. You can never be sure who’s genuine, who’s working for the party.’
‘Matthew would never have fallen for something like that. I’m surprised they even bothered trying.’
‘That’s what he
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