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Authors: Rosanna Ley

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BOOK: Return to Mandalay
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She nodded. Again their views were in unison. Why not use old wood to create new, rustic looking furniture with a unique character of its own? It was practical, environmentally friendly and creative.

‘I am only beginning this idea for my company now,’ he said. ‘But it is, I think, the way of the future.’

But what about their financial problems? And what about Li’s? It was impossible, surely, that Ramon could be involved with them. She thought of Klaus. If he could hear what she was hearing, if he could see Ramon’s factory, then he too would realise how completely off the mark his accusations were.

‘So what do you think?’ he asked her at the end of the tour.

‘It’s very impressive.’ She had seen the complete process involved in making a piece of hand-crafted furniture. It had been fascinating.

There was one room however, which Ramon didn’t show her.

‘What’s in there?’ she asked, pointing.

‘Ah.’ He seemed embarrassed. ‘It is another workroom. Sometimes I go in there to work on a special piece.’ He shrugged. ‘But there is nothing in there at the moment to interest you.’

His secretive tone made Eva want to go in. She frowned. He had been so open as he’d shown her round his factory and yet now he had closed up again, albeit briefly. Why?

They had tea in his office and when he found out she hadn’t had lunch, Ramon had a word with one of his female office workers who proceeded to conjure up
Pe Thee Thoke
, a salad with herbs and long beans, which proved delicious.

‘Did you enjoy your coffee with your friend?’ Ramon asked her, as he sipped his tea.

‘Mmm.’ Eva was non-committal. ‘But he’s not a friend, not really. I only met him in Yangon.’

‘And you did not know him before?’ Ramon seemed surprised, almost disapproving. His expression darkened.

She knew what he was thinking. But, ‘It’s different for Europeans,’ she said. ‘You’re drawn together in a strange country.’

‘So you are drawn to him, yes?’ His brow knitted. ‘In this strange country?’

Eva didn’t like the turn the subject had taken. ‘It’s not like that.’ She tried to explain, but in truth, she was beginning to feel some doubt herself. There had been that rather odd meeting at the Shwedagon. And now Klaus had tried to make her distrust Ramon. ‘It wouldn’t have happened like that at home,’ she admitted. ‘Or in Germany. But in Myanmar …’

‘Strangers in a strange land.’ He put down his tea-cup. ‘Foreigners stick together.’

Fortunately, his mobile rang and effectively closed the subject. It was Maya. Like Eva with her grandfather, Ramon had forged such a strong bond with her, she could tell, made more so, no doubt, by having lost his parents. She heard him mention her name and his face broke once again into a smile. He was, she thought, such a mixture of a man.

He moved the phone from his ear. ‘My grandmother has arrived in Mandalay,’ he said to Eva. ‘She asks if we will both join her at a local restaurant for dinner tonight?’

‘That would be lovely.’

‘She has something to tell you.’ Ramon’s eyes twinkled. ‘I think you will be surprised – and pleased.’

More story-telling, Eva wondered? She hoped so. She couldn’t get enough of hearing about the old Burmese days.

As Eva was just finishing her lunch, Ramon was called away and she sat alone in the little office for a few moments. One of his assistants came in to check something in the accounts book. He smiled and nodded to her.

‘Do you speak English?’ she asked him.

‘Yes, a little.’ He smiled again and bowed his head.

‘You are happy working here?’ she asked.

‘Oh, yes.’ He beamed. ‘Mister Ramon is a good man, isn’t it? A kind man. Yes.’

‘I’m sure he is.’ Eva smiled back.

‘My brother, he work here too,’ he went on.

‘Oh yes?’

‘He have operation for eyes, isn’t it?’ The man pointed to his own eyes.

‘Cataracts?’ she guessed.

He nodded. ‘They do operation at monastery in Sagaing, isn’t it?’

Eva remembered Ramon mentioning this on their day out. ‘That’s good,’ she said. ‘And he is better now?’

‘Yes.’ The man nodded furiously. ‘Mister Ramon, he take him, he help family.’

‘He took him to the monastery?’

‘Yes, yes. Very good. Very kind. He pay him while he off
sick. He look after workers, isn’t it?’ He exited the room, still bowing and smiling.

Eva was thoughtful.

When Ramon returned, she got to her feet. ‘I should be getting back to the hotel,’ she told him. She had to meet Myint Maw at three and time was getting on.

‘I will take you.’

‘No, really. You’ve got so much to do here. I can easily—’

‘I insist.’ Ramon took her arm. ‘Afterwards, I will return here for a few hours,’ he said, ‘and then pick you up tonight at eight.’

They left the building by way of the small front office door to the right of the warehouse area.

‘I was talking just now to the brother of the man who had the cataracts,’ Eva said.

‘Oh, yes? Moe Zaw?’

Eva paused in the doorway. ‘He told me you had paid the man all the time he was off sick.’

He shrugged. ‘The family had need of the money. Any employer would do the same.’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’ She glanced out at the terrace where men were finishing and polishing the gleaming furniture. ‘Can the business afford to take on employees’ health care?’ she murmured.

He gave her a quick look. ‘I can put my hand in my own pocket, Eva,’ he said. ‘It is not too much to do.’

They stepped outside into the blistering heat. So he had paid for it himself. No wonder his workers were loyal to him
and his company. ‘And the financial problems?’ she said. ‘The loss of orders?’

‘We will overcome it.’ Ramon flicked back the wing of dark hair. ‘Just as my father overcame his problems. Our materials are not cheap. We have lost a few orders. So be it. I have to believe that our way is the right way. That we will be winners in the end.’

‘I hope so.’

‘And before you go, I have one more thing to show you,’ said Ramon. ‘It is over in the warehouse on the other side of the compound. It will only take a minute.’

‘Very well.’ Eva followed him to a small truck and climbed in beside him.

‘We can do some more sightseeing tomorrow, if you like,’ he said as they drove across. ‘I could take an hour or two off.

You must see the Royal Palace. It may be a replica, but it will give you an idea of the original.’

‘I’d like that.’

As they got to the warehouse, a man came rushing out.

‘Ah, Wai Yan.’ Ramon introduced them. ‘This is my warehouse manager,’ he said to Eva. ‘This is a family friend, Eva Gatsby.’ They shook hands. ‘Do you have the key to the garage, please?’

‘The key, yes, pleased to meet you.’ The man seemed a little nervous but produced a key from the ring looped into the belt of his
longyi
.

‘Come.’ Ramon led the way. He unlocked a door and flung it open. There was a car inside. And then she realised it
was
the
car, the one in the photo. A gorgeous vintage car, all cream curves and red leather interior.

‘Your father’s car,’ she breathed.

‘It is a Sunbeam Alpine.’ Ramon stroked the cream bodywork lovingly. ‘It was his prized possession. He had it shipped over here when he knew he would stay.’

Their eyes met and once again she felt it, that frisson she had felt in Pyin Oo Lwin as they had walked together towards Pine Rise, the roadside lined with the sweet scented blossom of frangipani. And that sense, last night, of feeling close to him.

‘Ramon!’ Suddenly one of his workers was at the warehouse door, waving his arms and gesticulating. The warehouse manager was beside him, tearing his fingers through his hair.

They looked at one another and laughed. It seemed they were destined to be interrupted.

‘I can get a taxi,’ Eva said. ‘It’s no problem.’

Ramon frowned. ‘I will call a car for you. Excuse me for a moment, Eva.’ He touched her face with his fingers. So briefly. But in that moment she knew. She wasn’t mistaken. He’d felt that frisson just as she had.

Ramon stood in a huddle with the man who had just appeared and the warehouse manager, their voices rising, all talking at once, it seemed. They all sounded a little on edge, she thought.

Unnoticed, she wandered outside the warehouse and towards the truck still parked outside. So there was a spark and it wasn’t just from the moonlight or the scent of frangipani.
It was there in broad hot spanking daylight outside a furniture factory in Mandalay. Did that mean it was real?

She turned to look back at the factory building. It had taught her a lot about the man. He was a perfectionist and he was talented, for he had told her he still liked to get hands-on and she had observed that much of the furniture was designed and crafted by him alone. He cared about his work … She thought of the way he had run his hands over both the highly polished, finished pieces and the timber, raw, from where those pieces had begun. She thought of his expression when he’d been carving that piece of wood.

He cared for his employees. He loved his family too, especially his grandmother, and he cared deeply about Burmese trade and ethics. Eva wondered. How well did Ramon know the Li family and the business they ran? Would he be shocked if he knew how they were trying to hoodwink tourists, passing off old tat they’d artificially distressed as genuine antiques? But she couldn’t tell him about it, not without admitting that she’d been there.

The sun was hot on her head despite the protection from her hat. Eva glanced at the old truck loaded with crates, wondered vaguely where the containers might be going. Japan, maybe, or China? She knew Ramon’s dream was to export further afield, to expand, even set up a partner business elsewhere. Dreams … They could, she thought, be dangerous things.

She took a step closer. The door hadn’t been closed properly and the wooden crate nearest to the back of the truck
was clearly visible. She peered at the address label. Did a double-take. It couldn’t be … She looked again. But it was. Her company’s name
The Bristol Antiques Emporium
and their address in Bristol was written there, clear as day.

How odd. Eva frowned. But the Emporium was an antique company. Why would Ramon be sending a container of his handmade furniture out to them? And why on earth hadn’t he told her? She had told him the name of her company, told him what she was doing here …

Eva ran her fingers lightly over the wooden crate as if it could tell her what was inside. And then she noticed something else. Under the stamp of the sender, ‘Handmade in Mandalay’, she could make out a different kind of marking, something that was familiar, something that made her blood run cold.

‘Hey!’ Wai Yan the warehouse manager was racing towards her. He looked furious. ‘What you doing? Come away from there!’

Eva took a step back. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured. ‘I was just curious …’

‘You stay away!’ He seemed quite threatening now as he brandished his clipboard, his face like thunder.

‘What is going on?’ Suddenly, Ramon was beside them. ‘What has happened?’

The man muttered something in Burmese. He pointed to Eva, gesticulated at the truck, his voice seemed to go on and on in an incomprehensible stream.

Why wouldn’t he stop talking? Suddenly, there didn’t
seem to be enough air. Eva felt a wave of dizziness, her head was pounding and she swayed on her feet.

‘Eva, are you OK?’ Ramon’s face swam in front of hers. His green eyes were concerned. Thankfully, the other man had stopped talking, though he was still standing there looking decidedly twitchy.

‘It’s alright, really.’ She forced a smile.

‘Your taxi is here.’ He put an arm around her. Eva’s first instinct was to shrug it off but she couldn’t find the energy. ‘I shouldn’t have left you out here alone in this heat,’ he was murmuring into her hair. ‘I am so sorry. Take no notice of Wai Yan. I do not know what possessed him. He imagined you were stealing something.’ He laughed.

‘It doesn’t matter.’ She had only been out there for a few minutes. But her throat was parched and her lips dry.

‘Are you sure you are OK?’ He bent closer. ‘You look as if you have seen a ghost.’

‘I’m fine.’

Ramon opened the car door and helped her in, giving the hotel name to the driver and handing him a couple of notes. And this time Eva couldn’t be bothered to protest.

He leant in, his eyes searching hers. But she couldn’t even look at him.

‘Later?’ he said.

She nodded. ‘Later.’

But as the taxi drove off and Ramon raised his hand in a wave goodbye, her head was reeling. What she had seen under the sender’s stamp … Had it been some sort of a mirage from the heat? That distinctive blue and gold? No, it was real enough. It was the faded image of a blue-and-gold peacock, the logo of Li’s Antique and Furniture Company. There was no doubt. Li’s were sending stock to the Emporium. And they were using Ramon’s company to do it.

CHAPTER 36

Rosemary took him in his breakfast. He was awake, but still looked a bit bleary. And old, she thought. And old.

‘Morning, Dad,’ she said, trying to sound cheery, although in fact she hadn’t had a good night, outside the morning sky was leaden grey and she couldn’t stop thinking about Alec.

‘Oh.’ He blinked at her. ‘Hello, darling.’ He frowned. ‘For a second there, I thought you were—’

‘I was what?’ And then she realised. ‘I was who?’ Who was important in her father’s life? Eva, obviously. Even Mrs Briggs, she supposed. She wasn’t family, but she’d been helping them with cleaning for years and with cooking too since Rosemary’s mother’s death.

‘Someone else,’ he said. He looked lost.
Who, Dad?
But she didn’t say it.

She helped him sit up, wrapped the old tartan dressing gown around his thin shoulders. When he was comfortable, she put the tray in front of him.

‘Mm, porridge,’ he said. ‘I’ve missed that.’

‘I tried to make it like Mother used to,’ Rosemary admitted. Let it bubble for a few minutes, a swirl of honey, a flash of milk.

‘Your mother always made the best porridge.’

BOOK: Return to Mandalay
9.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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