It began to rain, a quiet sprinkle, a mist of whispers, the street slick like peanut oil. The Nash was too slow as it left the wharf—too many rickshaws, too many people in robes and suits. Two more blocks to the intersection, three turns to him.
I went straight to the Jazz Bar. There he was, playing the piano in an empty bar. He had grown stubble, and his hair was longer, reaching his shoulders. The curls bounced around his cheeks as he played. His music was a quiet musing, a hopeful tune, as if he was contemplating embarking on a new journey of his dream.
I held my purse, swept my damp bangs, and sat at a table by the stage. My face was wet, and my heart raced in a joyous rhythm. I had the urge to run to the stage and kiss him like a young schoolgirl. I would confess to him, promise him anything, if I could take back his love.
40
ERNEST
He felt her before he saw her, sitting nearby, wearing a peach-hued dress, beaming so beautifully. He jumped off the stage and strode to her table. All these months without seeing her. How he had missed her. He still loved her, perhaps even more than before. Nothing she had done would change that.
“So you’re not going to play now?” she said. In her hand was a silver purse with studs like diamonds; those gold leaf earrings swung like wind chimes.
“What would you like to hear?”
“I feel like classical music.”
“Do you? Once someone told me she likes jazz.”
“People change.”
He sat next to her. “I’m glad to see you, Aiyi. I have something I need to tell you. There will be a war, Aiyi. War in the Settlement. No one will be safe.” He told her about the machine guns, the departure of the Fourth Marines, and the declining business of the hotel.
She covered her mouth. “I can’t believe it. I only heard the British have left and that there’s been some trouble in the banks.”
He held her hand. “Will you leave Shanghai with me?”
A pearl of rain flowed down her cheek. “I was born and grew up here. My family has been here for generations. This city is my ancestors’ home, my home, Ernest. And I have my club.”
“But when the Japanese attack, you’ll be in danger.”
“We say, Luo Ye Gui Gen, fallen leaves long for the roots, Ernest. We always remember our roots, remember our home.”
He remembered Berlin, too, but Berlin was not his home anymore. His parents, however, were always on his mind, and he would find a home for them, too, once he reunited with them. If he left Shanghai, would they be able to reunite someday? That was his major concern. But he had to leave to protect Miriam. “I want to be with you, Aiyi. We can start fresh in a new city. No one will know who we are. I have savings, and I can find another job. I will protect you, take care of you. We’ll have a new life and leave all the mistakes behind.”
The color on her face changed from pale to pink. She knew what he was talking about.
“I love you, Aiyi. I haven’t changed. Nothing has changed. Come with me.”
She laughed, but he couldn’t tell if she was touched or if she thought he was ridiculous. “I want to tell you something, Ernest. I just saw off a friend at the pier, and I just learned something important. I don’t care about anything else. I want to be with you. Yes, I’ll go with you.”
He lifted her and spun. She was in his arms, but he could feel the world in his embrace.
They risked getting a room at the end of the fifth floor in the hotel and slipped upstairs without attracting the attention of Sassoon. Once the door locked behind them, they messed up the clean bed. Later, with sheets wrapped around them, they discussed where to go. She wanted to go to Hong Kong, where her friends were. Hong Kong it was, then. They planned out the next steps. He would inform the hotel of his departure from the bar, pack, purchase the tickets for the boat, and meet her on the street outside her club, while she would go ahead and stop at her club for some cash—she insisted on it—and then they would fetch Miriam, go to the wharf, and sail to Hong Kong.
After Aiyi left, Ernest went downstairs to the bar. He stacked the music sheets, returned them to the storage bench, and closed up the fallboard. Carrying the bag where he had carefully kept his Leica, he was ready to go to the front desk to resign but hesitated. Once the Japanese attacked, Sassoon’s business empire and even his life would be in peril.
In the lobby, Ernest asked one of Sassoon’s bodyguards to speak to the old man because he had something important to show him. He was told to go up to the penthouse. A surprise. The penthouse was an exclusive place for Sassoon’s close relatives and female friends.