Monsoon (48 page)

Sandy spoke to him in Vietnamese. ‘Hello, Father, is this your church?'

‘I like to think so,' he said. ‘I was away from Vietnam for many years and I am happy to come back. You have come to worship?'

‘My friend is inside. Do you know the history of this church?'

‘Ah, yes. It was started by a French missionary in the 1890s. It was closed by the communist regime. A priest stayed in the district so he could be near his faithful and watch over the safety of his church, but he had to obey the new laws. He died two years ago. I have come to replace him. In the last few years there is more tolerance and religious freedom, but restrictions remain.' He smiled. ‘Your friend, she is a tourist, like you?'

‘Her mother came from here but fled to Australia because they were afraid of the communists. She came here in the hope of finding traces of her family. And she has just found a great-uncle.'

The old priest turned to go into the church. ‘Ah, then I will give her a blessing. Please, come in.' At the entrance Sandy stood aside for the priest to enter, but he stopped and took her hand. ‘The old priest who used to live here kept a register of births, deaths and marriages. There may be some information in it. Tell your friend she might want to study these records.'

Sandy stared at him. ‘I will tell her, Father. We're leaving tomorrow.'

He patted her hand. ‘When she is ready and has the time. The register has been kept in a safe place. It will always be available at this church.'

Sandy sat in a back pew as Anna knelt again and crossed herself, murmuring responses to the priest. When she walked from the church, her face was tear stained but she was smiling.

‘What a sweet man. I should have taken Vietnamese lessons before I came. Perhaps I might when I get home.'

‘Oh, so that's on the agenda?' said Sandy.

Anna looked at her. ‘I think so, Sands. There's still a lot I want to know about this country.'

‘There's a lot more to learn, for sure.'

‘And what about you?' asked Anna, nudging her. ‘I bet there's a lot more to learn about Jean-Claude too. It's hard to leave Vietnam with him still here, isn't it?'

‘It's going to be hard to leave for many reasons,' said Sandy lightly. ‘C'mon, we have to walk back: I sent the boys off.'

Over dinner in a small local restaurant specialising in cuisine similar to that of Dalat they invited Dun and Chip to share their meal. The two men were curious about what had transpired through the day and asked Anna, who gave them a brief outline of what she'd found out.

‘So you will come back here again?' asked Dun. ‘Or is this the end of the story?'

‘There's a lot to absorb,' said Anna truthfully. ‘I hadn't planned on any of this and then it became a bit of an obsession. But now I feel more peaceful. I don't know if I'll come back, but if I do it will be with you guys.'

Chip raised his glass. ‘And you come on the Easy Riders!'

‘We won't tell tourists about this place. It's your village, Anna,' said Dun.

They laughed and Sandy decided to keep the news about the register in the old church to herself for the time being. It would be a gift to Anna at an appropriate moment sometime in the future.

From Dalat airport, while waiting for their flight back to Saigon, Anna rang Carlo.

‘Hi, how's it going?' she asked.

‘Where've you been? Good thing you told me you'd be out of contact: I was starting to think you'd been kidnapped. Hey, you're not going to believe the deal I'm putting together here.'

‘Where are you?'

‘Babe, still in Hanoi. Didn't go to Hoi An. Things are happening here. I've lined up some great antiques which can be shipped out with the garden stuff. And I have a lead on some really hot pieces. Like out of the Egyptian tombs!'

‘Carlo, what are you talking about? First of all, before you settle on those antiques, who's checked they're the real thing and not fakes?' asked Anna worriedly, watching Sandy ordering them coffees.

‘I'll get them checked. I know what I'm doing. Anyway you'll be able to see the goods.'

‘What would I know? Why not get Rick Dale to examine them?'

‘Good thinking, babe.'

‘And what do you mean about pharaohs and tombs?' asked Anna. ‘What about the garden pots and landscaping pieces?'

‘That's all under control. Listen, have you heard of the Thang Long archaeological site in Hanoi?'

‘Thang Long archaeological site?' She raised her eyebrows and took the paper cup of coffee from Sandy.

‘It's one of the most important archaeological finds in Vietnam's history,' said Sandy. ‘Right in the middle of the city. Who's that?'

‘Carlo,' whispered Anna and Sandy's eyebrows shot up.

‘What's he doing there?'

Carlo could hear Anna talking to Sandy. ‘Hey, listen, shut up about this, okay? Don't repeat this to Sandy. It's a huge excavation of a whole citadel, thirteen hundred years old. They found it five years ago but kept it quiet for a year. Now it's a major thing. But, babe, get this, in that first year before they let the news out and before they got, er, really organised, I'm told quite a few pieces kind of went walking.'

‘Stolen?'

‘Be quiet. Who knows? They were taken away for testing or something. There's a whole damned city in there: who's going to miss a few terracotta dragon heads? I got a lead on them.'

‘Carlo! This is way out of your league. You're crazy,' cried Anna, rolling her eyes at Sandy.

‘Listen, this country is a goldmine, wide open. We'll talk – and other things – when I see you. Can't get to Saigon though. Too much business up here.'

‘But you can't be in Vietnam and not see the south. Just a few days together and then we'll go back to Hanoi.'

‘Ah, babe, some other time. What I'm doing is really important for us. Can't you give Saigon a miss and get back here?'

‘So aren't you going to ask me how things went, what I found?' asked Anna.

‘Oh, yeah, right. Bet you didn't find your mother's family. Needle in a haystack job, right?'

‘No. Yes. I didn't exactly find my mother's family . . .'

‘See. Wild goose chase. So what'd you do then? You were outta touch long enough.'

‘Carlo, I found my great-uncle. My mother's uncle.'

Carlo paused for a few seconds then resumed brightly. ‘What do you know. Well, good one, Anna. When you know what time your flight gets in, call me then, huh? I might have more news.'

‘All right, sweetie, will do. Bye.'

‘So what did he think? About the family search?' asked Sandy.

‘Typical Carlo,' said Anna. ‘If he's not involved, he's not interested. But at least he asked.'

Sandy nodded and sipped her coffee, thinking if it were her she'd be in tears or shouting at him. Anna was so forgiving, so patient, when it came to Carlo.

‘Dad will be interested though,' said Anna. ‘I can't wait to sit down with him and the photos and everything. What messages have you got?'

‘God, I haven't even turned my phone back on!' Sandy pulled out her phone and waited for all her messages to run through. After some time she put the phone in her bag.

‘Three from Jean-Claude. Kim called and so did Cherie. And . . . there's a message from Tom about my father. Dad went to the commemoration of Long Tan after all but is on his way home now. Tom says that he's sorry he missed me but he wanted to get back to Mum.'

Anna stared at Sandy in shock. ‘God! He came. And you weren't here. Oh, Sandy, I'm so sorry. It's my fault . . .'

‘No, not at all. I'm just so glad he came. I wonder how it went. I must call Tom and Mum and find out what happened. No, to be really honest, I'm glad I wasn't with him. I don't think I would have been much help. I think we both would have been embarrassed.'

‘It must have been a big deal for him,' said Anna softly. ‘Well, tonight will be phone home and talk to parents night, eh?'

They finished their coffee in silence as their flight to Ho Chi Minh City was called. Each was thinking of family and of the men closest to them – especially their fathers.

15

A
NNA NOW RECOGNISED THE
familiar landmarks on the drive from Hanoi airport and as the taxi turned in to the one-way street that led to Sandy's apartment, she yawned.

‘I hope Carlo isn't in yet; I'm so tired, emotionally drained. I don't even want dinner. Just to go to bed. I'll call Dad in the morning. But, Sands, I feel badly about putting you out of your flat.'

‘Are you kidding? I'm wallowing in luxury at Jean-Claude's place. So nice of him to let me stay there.'

‘When do you see him again?' She gave Sandy a big grin.

‘No idea. That man flits about like I can't believe.'

‘We haven't done too badly in the flitting department,' said Anna. ‘I must send copies of the photos of us all to Dun and Chip.'

‘They enjoyed it too, I think. Different from the normal customers' trips,' said Sandy.

The taxi dropped Anna off at Sandy's flat and continued on to Jean-Claude's affluent district. Sandy let herself into the security lobby, glided up in the quaint lift and went into the apartment. And froze.

The lights were dim; soft music was playing; she noticed the fresh roses; and there was the smell of food. Oh lord, she thought, he's entertaining a woman. She turned and, as gently and noiselessly as possible, opened the front door again.

‘Where're you going?' Jean-Claude came into the main room.

Sandy put a finger to her lips and whispered, ‘Sorry to barge in. I thought you were away and I know you thought I was in Saigon.'

‘No, I didn't. Anna phoned me to say that you were coming back here this evening. Thought I'd surprise you with dinner.' He took her bag and kissed her on the cheek. ‘I'm anxious to hear your news. Anna sounded elated but she said she'd let you tell me all.' He took her hand and led her to the sofa. ‘Sit down; I'll dump this. There's cold champagne waiting. I thought this called for a celebration.'

Sandy sank into the plump cushions and found her heart was still racing. Anna had set this up. She took the flute of champagne and grinned at Jean-Claude. ‘I thought I'd walked in on a tete-a-tete.'

He looked quite shocked. ‘Sandy! Who would I be entertaining?'

‘I don't know, Jean-Claude. You must know lots of attractive women here.' Sandy realised she knew so little of Jean-Claude's life. With all of his travelling around the country, he must know women everywhere. And what was his life like back in France, was there someone patiently waiting? He was too appealing and successful to be unattached.

‘Of course I do.' He sat beside her. ‘And I have business contacts with successful and interesting women from all over. And I'm always being invited to dinner parties and functions to meet unattached young ladies.' Seeing Sandy take a gulp of her champagne, he took the glass from her hand and put the champagne on the table beside his. He lifted her hand and kissed it. ‘But, Sandy, none of them interest me like my adorable Aussie.' He pulled her to him and gave her a long, hard, passionate kiss. ‘I've missed you.'

Sandy was flustered and her heart was thumping again.

Jean-Claude topped up her glass. ‘Here, sip this. It's too fine a vintage to gulp. And tell me everything. Is Anna happy?'

Sandy drew a deep breath and began to relax. She smiled at Jean-Claude, took a small appreciative sip of the French champagne, curled her legs under her, settled into the cushions and reached for his hand. ‘Let me tell you all about it.'

By the time she'd shared Anna's story with Jean-Claude, had dinner, tidied the kitchen together, talking all the while, it just seemed natural that they slip into bed together, wrapped in each other's arms.

‘You're tired. What a few days it's been for you,' murmured Jean-Claude.

‘Sitting on the back of a motorbike over those rough roads there and back wasn't too comfortable either,' said Sandy sleepily.

He stroked her hair and nuzzled her neck. ‘Much as I want to make love to you, sleep tight, my darling.'

Sandy smiled and closed her eyes and was almost instantly asleep, locked in Jean-Claude's gentle embrace.

Jean-Claude watched Sandy drift into a deep sleep, her breathing slow and steady, before smoothing her tumbled hair and settling himself to sleep beside her. He had never felt so protective of a woman before, yet Sandy was one of the most independent and capable women he'd ever met. He hoped that the phone call with her father went well tomorrow. Phil Donaldson's visit had been so brief and Sandy, despite what she said, felt guilty she hadn't been with him to share some of the experience. Jean-Claude thought of his own elegant and particular parents and considered what they would think of Sandy. His father would be enchanted, but Sandy might not be the woman his patrician mother would choose for her son. Tant pis pour toi, Mama, he smiled to himself: this is the one.