With dismay, Lucien looked around the cabin assigned to him for the journey to Hong Kong. It didn't take him long - the cabin was tiny. He didn't know how he'd be able to even sleep there without feeling the walls closing in on him. Trying to do anything more was unthinkable. He would have to spend as little time there as possible, and when he was there, concentrate on the reason for his trip. Surely he could bear this and much more for Li's sake.
He didn't even bother to unpack, just gathered up some medical journals and fled up to the deck. He found a deck chair and settled in for the day.
His strength was returning gradually, and between journals he would exercise on the deck. He took little notice of the young women who watched, and had even less interest in encouraging them. To his mind he was already committed, and none of them could hold a candle to Jean anyway.
He also spent time pacing as he tried to plan his next move if the sisters at the convent in Hong Kong could provide no useful information. He supposed he could go to the Maritime Offices there, see if they had anything further on the ship and its passengers. Surely the Japanese authorities had kept records of the port's activities. It was just a question of whether they had been destroyed in the wake of the Empire's defeat.
He had been given the name of a "fixer" in Hong Kong, a Mister Kim, who supposedly could locate anyone or anything in the sprawling colonial city, but Lucien vowed to only contact him as a last resort. He wasn't sure about the man's capabilities or his ethics.
Nights on the ship were his biggest challenge. After the first two nights of suffering and nightmares, he took the pillow and blanket up on deck and, huddled behind a lifeboat for protection from the brisk wind, he found a measure of peace, if little actual sleep.
The food was passable, if a little too dependent on rice and fish for his liking, after years of subsisting almost solely on those items. He felt like he would kill for a lamb chop and some roasted potatoes, but settled for large quantities of vegetables and any version of meat they happened to serve.
Whatever the inconveniences (and after what he'd been through they were hardly more than that) he kept his focus on his goal. If he could find Li and return with her to Ballarat, none of this was of any consequence.
At night, staring up at the stars, he would picture the moment: Li in his arms as Christopher and Jack danced around them and Jean stood on the porch watching with that brilliant smile of hers. Despite his best efforts not to be too optimistic and risk a crushing disappointment, variations of that image persisted each night until finally the ship approached the harbour in Hong Kong
Jean felt buoyant for days after the telephone call from Lucien. She still prayed nightly for his safety and his success, but somehow she was more convinced than ever that her dreams might just come true this time. Her dreams had been tempered considerably since the days when she saw herself traveling the world. Now all she wanted was to spend her days looking after Lucien, watching their children grow up healthy and happy, and then grow old with the man she loved. It didn't seem too much to ask, since it happened to other people all the time. Why not Jean Randall Beazley, soon to be Blake she hoped.
In the meantime she focused on what was in front of her. She began to ask questions about the local schools, trying to find one that might understand the horrors her boys had been through and be willing to adjust accordingly. She cooked and cared for the house, and took on an increasingly larger role in helping Doctor Blake in his practice. Since no suitable candidate had been presented for the receptionist position, she told him she was willing to take it on a permanent basis, at least until Lucien and Li arrived. Then they might have to rethink the arrangement. Thomas was delighted by the suggestion, insisting that her paycheck be increased substantially to reflect the added duties.
The additional income meant that for once Jean had the luxury of not weighing every single penny before spending it. Her lifetime of frugality continued, but now she had choices never available to her before.
She thought about music lessons for Christopher but decided to wait until the boys were enrolled in school. The school itself might provide some kind of training, and if not, she thought Lucien would be able to help her find someone suitable. At least he might know the right questions to ask.
Christopher had lost none of his fascination with the piano. He still played around with it for hours on end. From time to time Thomas would show him something, like what the pedals could do or how to use a metronome to keep time. But for the most part, Christopher figured things out on his own.
Jack, on the other hand, was demanding more attention. Jean recognized that a part of it was because Christopher was spending less time with him. She offered to let him help when she baked biscuits, and she encouraged Danny Parks to come over as often as he could, but she knew having the structure of regular school days was the best solution to settling Jack down. He seemed to be suffering from an overdose of freedom, if that made any sense.
The day she found him tearing pages from the magazines in the surgery waiting room, she knew it was time he learned that freedom had limits. She sent him to his bedroom and advised him his football was confiscated for two days. He looked up at her, shocked, so she sat down beside him and tried to explain, but he would have none of it. He turned his back on her, so she left him alone to think things over. And redoubled her efforts to find the right school for him before he got into serious trouble.
When Christopher heard what his brother had done, he marched straight to Jack's room. Jean followed but stayed out of sight, planning to intervene only if necessary.
"What are you doing?" Christopher asked.
"Nothing," Jack muttered, a trace of defiance in his tone.
"Don't you like living here?"
Jean heard no response.
"Mum's working hard so we have a nice place like this to live," Christopher continued. "If you make Doctor Blake angry he could make us leave."
"He's not our Doctor Blake," Jack retorted.
"But this is our Doctor Blake's house, too," said Christopher. "If we have to leave here how will he find us when he comes?"
In a tiny voice Jack said, "Do you really think he's coming back to us, Chris?"
"He said he would," said Christopher. "I don't think he would lie to us and to Mum. But we have to be here. That means not making the other Doctor Blake mad, understood?"
"Yes, understood," said Jack. There was a moment of silence before Jack asked, "Do you think our Doctor Blake can play football with me when he comes back?"
"Sure. He can do a lot of things with us, you'll see."
Jean crept downstairs, tears in her eyes. It probably wasn't fair to expect so much of Lucien, but she couldn't think of a better hero for her sons to have.
As Lucien walked off the ship he was prioritizing the tasks he had set for himself. First he should probably find a hotel as a base of operations. Then he would set out to find the convent.
But it seemed the nuns had other ideas. Standing directly in front of him was a boy of about ten years holding a sign that said "BLAKE".
"I'm Blake," he told the boy. "What can I do for you?"
The boy gave him a toothy grin. "Mother Superior said you should come with me," he advised.
Lucien smiled back. "And I suppose it's never a good idea to disobey Mother Superior."
"No," said the boy, shaking his head firmly. "Not good at all."
"Well, then, shall we?" said Lucien, letting the boy lead the way. "Is it very far?"
"Not far," said the boy, whom Lucien learned was named Gabriel, "like the angel", as he told Lucien.
Lucien hefted his bag and followed the boy. Gabriel looked at the case. "We could take a taxi," he said, his eyes hopeful.
Lucien smiled down at him. "Why not, eh?" He flagged down a cab, and held the door open for the boy who was clearly excited to ride in the vehicle, a rare treat.
Gabriel was able to tell the driver the address of the convent, then he turned to Lucien. "Is it true you're from Australia?"
"I haven't been there for a while, but, yes, that's where I grew up," he confirmed.
"Did you have a pet kangaroo?"
Lucien suppressed a smile. "I'm afraid not."
"A koala?"
"No, not a koala either. Not even a quokka or a wallaby. Just a dog for a while."
"Oh", said Gabriel, clearly disappointed.
"Do you have a pet?" Lucien asked him.
Gabriel shook his head. "No, it isn't allowed... but when I grow up I will. Do you think I could get a kangaroo or a koala?"
"They both need quite a bit of room, so if you plan to live here in Hong Kong it probably isn't a very good idea."
"Oh. Maybe I could move to Australia then," said Gabriel.
"Maybe," Lucien agreed. He found the young man delightful, making him miss the company of Christopher and Jack.
The taxicab deposited them in front of an imposing, grey stone building, its gothic style distinctly at odds with the majority of the architecture in Hong Kong. Lucien had visited the colony for a few days long before the war began, on holiday with Mei Lin. As he recalled, she spent much of the time complaining about one thing or another. Knowing what he knew now, Lucien couldn't help but wonder if her unhappiness was due to missing Derek. His marriage may have been a sham in its latter stages, he thought, but Li made it all worthwhile.
He followed Gabriel inside and found himself in the office of the Mother Superior. She was a slender woman with a fine-featured, aristocratic face, European, and a gentle air of authority about her.
"How do you do, Doctor Blake," she said, standing to greet him. "I am Mother Julienne." She indicated the chair across from her desk, and Lucien sat down.
"A pleasure to meet you," said Lucien. "You knew I was coming."
"Yes, Sister Agatha has been in touch. She told us of your situation. I'll help in any way I can," she assured him.
"Thank you, that's very kind," said Lucien. "I'm not certain how much Sister Agatha told you. In 1942, just before Singapore fell, my three-year-old daughter Li was put on the Mareng Maru."
The Mother Superior nodded. "Yes, with some of our sisters."
"The ship was intercepted by the Japanese and ended up here in Hong Kong. I don't know if..." He choked up before he could finish.
The nun rested her hand atop his where it lay on the desk between them. "Yes, Doctor, your daughter was still aboard."
He stared at her. "You're sure?"
"Yes. It seems some of the crew were killed by the Japanese but all the passengers arrived here safely, from what I'm told. I wasn't here then. I was sent here to take over after the Japanese were expelled. My predecessor died during the war."
"My deepest sympathies to you and the order," Lucien told her with sincerity. He took a breath. "I wonder if you know of anyone who might have been here at the time the Mareng Maru docked."
The Mother Superior smiled at him. "Better than that, Doctor. One of the sisters who was on the ship is still here."
"Really?" This news was better than Lucien could have hoped. "May I? That is to say, would it be all right if I spoke with her?"
"Sister Mary Chang's English is very limited, I'm afraid," said the Mother Superior.
"I see. Cantonese? Mandarin?" Lucien inquired.
"Mainly Cantonese, but she understands Mandarin."
"Then there shouldn't be a problem," said Lucien.
"Excellent. I'll have her sent for."
The Chinese nun was elderly and so tiny it looked as though a stiff breeze would send her flying. She bowed politely to Lucien then seemed startled when he addressed her in her own language.
"Sister, I am honoured that you would speak with me. May we sit?"
In English, Mother Julienne said, "I'll leave you to it, Doctor. If you need anything further, Gabriel will be waiting just outside."
"Thank you, Mother Superior. I'm most grateful."
"You're very welcome, Doctor. I will say a prayer that you are reunited with your daughter." She closed the door behind herSelf.
When they were seated, the diminutive nun addressed him, again in Cantonese. "You are Li's father?"
"Yes," said Lucien. "You remember Li."
"She was a lovely child, very smart. We spoiled her before the Japanese arrived."
"And after the Japanese arrived? After you arrived here in Hong Kong? Do you know what happened to her?" Lucien held his breath. This was the closest he had been to locating his daughter, to knowing her fate.
The nun nodded, and Lucien might have kissed her if it weren't for her wimple. "Li was sent to Shanghai."
"Shanghai?" His excitement deflated. How would he ever find her? One small child in a city of that size. "Do you know where in Shanghai, Sister?"
"No, I'm sorry. But Sister Elizabeth might know."
"I see. And would it be possible for me to speak with Sister Elizabeth?"
"Mother Superior May be able to arrange it. Sister Elizabeth is in Shanghai. She traveled there with little Li."
Again his hopes skyrocketed. "Sister Elizabeth was sent to Shanghai at the same time Li was, and you think she's still there?" Lucien clarified.
"I know she is," said Sister Mary Chang. "I received a letter from her last week."
Jean finished the last of the washing up from dinner, dried her hands, and placed the towel neatly back on its rack. Doctor Blake had retired to his bedroom early, saying he was feeling a little under the weather. "Just a cold," he had assured Jean, although she suspected he had caught a touch of influenza from his recent house call out to the Turner farm.
She thought she might check on him, see if he would like a cuppa, but when she went to knock on his door she could hear the faint sound of snoring. She decided she would let him sleep. Instead, she turned the wireless on softly and took up her darning. Jack had seemed to put a hole in every sock that he owned.
She had just gotten settled when the telephone rang. She rushed to answer it before the noise woke the doctor. She hoped it wasn't a patient requesting a house call.
"Blake residence," she announced into the receiver.
"Jean."
She recognized his voice instantly, of course, but was that a sob she heard in it? Please, God, no. Not bad news. Doesn't he deserve better?"
"Lucien, where are you?" she asked gently.
"Hong Kong. Jean, you won't believe the day I've had!"
"Tell me," she prompted.
"Jean, Li made it to Hong Kong! I've spoken with one of the nuns that accompanied her."
"That's wonderful! Oh, Lucien, I'm so happy for you."
"Thank you, Jean." She could hear him beaming. "Tomorrow I'm off to Shanghai - that's where she was sent. I'm to meet with someone who went there with her. Jean, I'm going to find her in Shanghai, I know it!"
She knew he was crying, and tears streamed down her own cheeks. "I can't even imagine what you must be feeling," she told him.
"All I need is to find her. I wasn't sure it would ever happen. I hoped, but I thought..."
"I know, love. I know."
"And then we'll come home to you and the boys. Home, Jean. I can hardly believe it."
A small part of her wanted to caution him that it might not be that easy, that he should prepare himself, just in case, but she couldn't bring herself to dampen his joy. He had earned the right to it, no matter what came next.
"That sounds perfect," she told him instead. "The boys ask about you all the time. They want to know when you'll be here."
"Please, tell them I'll be there just as soon as I can, will you?"
"I will," she promised. "Please, Lucien, take care of yourself." She knew his tendency to rush into things without thinking through the consequences.
"Jean, I will, I promise. I owe it to Li, and to you and the boys."
"Do you want to talk to your father? I think he's asleep but I can wake him."
"No, no, that's not necessary. Just pass along the news to him, if you will."
"Certainly."
"Good, thank you, my darling. I love you, Jean, and I have big plans for when we get there," he told her, his voice soft and husky.
She shivered deliciously. "I love you, too, and I have a few plans of my own," she promised.
"Until then, love."
"Good-bye," she whispered. And when the connection had ended, she added, "Please, let him find her. Please."