with my eyes.’
Howard bought the tie for me, dark blue with a yellow crest and yellow stripes. I took mine off and clumsily tied the new one around my neck as I leant against the wall for balance. I ceremoniously handed my old tie, black with blue dots on it, to Howard. He took it and sighed. I think he was humouring me.
‘I’ll help you get a cab,’ he said.
‘Howard old lad, I’m quite capable of calling myself a taxi,’ I told him.
‘Aye, that’s as may be,’ he said. ‘But you might not be able to tell him where you want to go.’
‘There can’t be that many Excelsior Hotels in town,’ I replied.
‘Just the one, but the Chinese call it . . .’ and I missed the rest because it sounded something like a George Michael chorus played backwards.
‘Point taken, Howard. Call me a cab.’
‘You’re a cab,’ he said and we both laughed out of all proportion to the bad joke. A taxi with its roof light on screeched to a halt and Howard opened the rear door for me. He chattered to the driver who grunted and nodded.
‘John’s a good lad,’ he said to me as I climbed in the back. ‘Go easy on him.’
I closed the door and wound down the window. ‘I will do,’ I said. ‘But I’ve never trusted Indians. Not after what they did to Custer.’ Then the taxi screeched away from the kerb and I fell back into the seat chuckling. He wasn’t the only one with a sense of humour. Shit, I was pissed again.
It was Sally, but not the cold, dead Sally I’d seen lying on the steel tray in the mortuary with a brown label tied to her big toe. This Sally was warm, and smiling and tossing her head. ‘Wake up,’ she whispered, and nuzzled my ear with her nose. ‘I’m back.’
I blinked and rubbed my sleep-filled eyes, then sat up as I realized it was her.
‘I thought you were dead,’ I gasped.
‘Don’t be silly, do I look as if I’m dead?’ She put her hand on my forehead. ‘You look terrible. Were you out on the razzle last night?’ She sat on the bed next to me.
‘Yeah, I was in the FCC with Howard. It’s a terrible place.’
‘Did he lead you astray?’
‘I’m not sure who was leading and who was following.’
‘You drink too much.’
‘I’m better than I was.’
‘It’s still too much.’
‘I can handle it. Where have you been, Sally?’ The phone started ringing.
‘I’ll tell you when you’ve answered the phone.’
‘Tell me now. I have to know where you’ve been.’
‘Answer the phone first.’ She bent her head down and kissed me lightly on the cheek. I woke up. The phone was still ringing but she wasn’t there anymore. The ‘I’m back’ dreams had started.
It was Howard, ringing to see if I was OK.
‘I’m fine, Howard.’
‘Do you need me this morning?’ he asked.
‘No thanks, John will look after me.’
‘OK. Look, leave this afternoon free.’
‘For what?’
‘A junk trip. Courtesy of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank. Lots of booze and great food. But more importantly, there’ll be a lot of VIPs there, people you should meet. This place is a village, everybody knows everybody else’s business. We might find out something.’
‘You’ve sold me the idea, Howard. What time and where?’
‘The junk leaves Queen’s Pier at 4 pm, but I’ll meet you under the Hong Kong Bank building at 3.30.’
‘All right, I’ll see you there.’
I replaced the receiver and lay on my back, left arm across my eyes to shield them from the bright morning sunlight that shafted in through the window and across the double bed. I was still dog tired, partly because of the previous night’s drinking session but I told myself the jet lag wasn’t helping, my mind accepted the fact that it was ten o’clock in the morning and I was in Hong Kong, but my body still thought it was 2 am and that I should be asleep. I rolled onto my side, flopped my legs onto the floor and wrapped myself in a hotel robe. My tongue was thick with fur and I wiped it on the towelling belt.
Howard bought the tie for me, dark blue with a yellow crest and yellow stripes. I took mine off and clumsily tied the new one around my neck as I leant against the wall for balance. I ceremoniously handed my old tie, black with blue dots on it, to Howard. He took it and sighed. I think he was humouring me.
‘I’ll help you get a cab,’ he said.
‘Howard old lad, I’m quite capable of calling myself a taxi,’ I told him.
‘Aye, that’s as may be,’ he said. ‘But you might not be able to tell him where you want to go.’
‘There can’t be that many Excelsior Hotels in town,’ I replied.
‘Just the one, but the Chinese call it . . .’ and I missed the rest because it sounded something like a George Michael chorus played backwards.
‘Point taken, Howard. Call me a cab.’
‘You’re a cab,’ he said and we both laughed out of all proportion to the bad joke. A taxi with its roof light on screeched to a halt and Howard opened the rear door for me. He chattered to the driver who grunted and nodded.
‘John’s a good lad,’ he said to me as I climbed in the back. ‘Go easy on him.’
I closed the door and wound down the window. ‘I will do,’ I said. ‘But I’ve never trusted Indians. Not after what they did to Custer.’ Then the taxi screeched away from the kerb and I fell back into the seat chuckling. He wasn’t the only one with a sense of humour. Shit, I was pissed again.
It was Sally, but not the cold, dead Sally I’d seen lying on the steel tray in the mortuary with a brown label tied to her big toe. This Sally was warm, and smiling and tossing her head. ‘Wake up,’ she whispered, and nuzzled my ear with her nose. ‘I’m back.’
I blinked and rubbed my sleep-filled eyes, then sat up as I realized it was her.
‘I thought you were dead,’ I gasped.
‘Don’t be silly, do I look as if I’m dead?’ She put her hand on my forehead. ‘You look terrible. Were you out on the razzle last night?’ She sat on the bed next to me.
‘Yeah, I was in the FCC with Howard. It’s a terrible place.’
‘Did he lead you astray?’
‘I’m not sure who was leading and who was following.’
‘You drink too much.’
‘I’m better than I was.’
‘It’s still too much.’
‘I can handle it. Where have you been, Sally?’ The phone started ringing.
‘I’ll tell you when you’ve answered the phone.’
‘Tell me now. I have to know where you’ve been.’
‘Answer the phone first.’ She bent her head down and kissed me lightly on the cheek. I woke up. The phone was still ringing but she wasn’t there anymore. The ‘I’m back’ dreams had started.
It was Howard, ringing to see if I was OK.
‘I’m fine, Howard.’
‘Do you need me this morning?’ he asked.
‘No thanks, John will look after me.’
‘OK. Look, leave this afternoon free.’
‘For what?’
‘A junk trip. Courtesy of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank. Lots of booze and great food. But more importantly, there’ll be a lot of VIPs there, people you should meet. This place is a village, everybody knows everybody else’s business. We might find out something.’
‘You’ve sold me the idea, Howard. What time and where?’
‘The junk leaves Queen’s Pier at 4 pm, but I’ll meet you under the Hong Kong Bank building at 3.30.’
‘All right, I’ll see you there.’
I replaced the receiver and lay on my back, left arm across my eyes to shield them from the bright morning sunlight that shafted in through the window and across the double bed. I was still dog tired, partly because of the previous night’s drinking session but I told myself the jet lag wasn’t helping, my mind accepted the fact that it was ten o’clock in the morning and I was in Hong Kong, but my body still thought it was 2 am and that I should be asleep. I rolled onto my side, flopped my legs onto the floor and wrapped myself in a hotel robe. My tongue was thick with fur and I wiped it on the towelling belt.
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