I pick up the telephone and ring Daphne Wong the minute Ethyl tell me Miss Cicely take a turn for the worse.
‘How she doing?’
‘Well you know, they’ve been trying to control the situation with drugs, but right now it seem like we fighting a losing battle.’
‘How she doing in herself?’
‘She comes and goes. Some days she is better than others.’
Miss Cicely start take sick a few month before we move from Matthews Lane. So just as we thinking that Ethyl going stop working for the Wongs it turn out that she travelling down the hill to go maid for Miss Cicely every day because she can’t stand, after all these years, to go let Miss Cicely down when she need her most. So whereas the main traffic in domestics is travelling to Beverly Hills, Ethyl is busy doing the journey the other way ’round in this little Toyota that Hampton buy for her even though I don’t think Ethyl got no driving licence and the only lessons she get is driving ’round the garden with Hampton at her side. Still, Ethyl just like half the drivers in Jamaica and the car is a automatic so that can’t cause too much trouble.
When I go see Miss Cicely she in a bad way. She so weak she can’t get up and she can barely open her eyes. Not that it matter because Daphne tell me that her sight failing so bad she can hardly see nothing anyway. She pleased me come to see her though and she hold out her hand and I take it as I sit down in the chair next to the bed.
‘Philip. How is Philip?’
‘I am good, thank you, Miss Cicely. But I come here to see how you doing.’
‘Well, all I can say is the good Lord is taking his own time getting ready for me to come and join him. Least I pray that is the direction I am heading in. Who knows, He may be thinking about the other place for me.’ And she give a little chuckle and I laugh with her.
‘I don’t think you need to be fretting yourself over that.’
‘Oh, Philip, you always had such faith in me. But in all honesty, I was not the best of mothers. I wasn’t good to Fay. I know everyone tired of listening to her complain about how badly I treated her, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t true. And I had no time for Daphne. Not really. I was too busy arguing with Fay to even notice what Daphne was doing. I just expected her to carry on without me. And as for Kenneth, well you know all about that. I didn’t have one idea in my head about what to do with Kenneth.’
I interrupt her and I say, ‘You sure you want to be telling me all of this, Miss Cicely? You sure this is what you want to be talking about right now?’
She turn her head to the side a little, her eyes still shut.
‘You know, Philip, I think it is. Who else can an old woman tell? And I feel I need to tell someone before I go to meet my Maker, just so I can acknowledge to Him that I know the mistakes I have made. Well, some of them at least. Silent prayer is a wonderful thing, but it is also very healing to have someone to talk to. That is where the Catholics have the advantage with their confessions. But is it alright with you, Philip, that is the question?’
‘Whatever you want to do is fine with me, Miss Cicely.’
‘You know that when Fay went to England she went to stay with her brother, Stanley. Stanley was my firstborn, but Mr Henry was not his father.’
Miss Cicely stop and I look at her wondering if she expecting me to say something. I can’t think what to say. Still, I reckon I should try, but just as I go open my mouth, not even knowing what going come outta it, she start up again.
‘Stanley was born out of sin. The worst sort of sin you can have between a father and daughter.’ And she pause, and then she say it again. ‘The worst sort.’
I so surprised she telling me all this, I feel like my body gone into shock. It cold but it clammy at the same time. It feel like my joints seize up rigid. It feel like I going get stuck in this position leaning forward on the chair with her hand in mine.
‘It has taken a whole lifetime to try to wash off the shame of what Mr Johnson did to me. Because even though I was only a child, it felt somehow like it was my doing. Especially since Mr Johnson didn’t seem to have any shame himself about what happened. And then Henry had the good grace to marry me.’
She stop, and I breathe. And then she say to me, ‘Philip, take a look for me and see if that window is still open. It is so hot in here and I can’t feel the slightest bit of breeze.’
I look over and I see the window wide open. Then my eye catch a fan resting on the side table, a Chinese paper fan, so I walk over and pick it up and when I come back, I sit down and start fan her with it.
‘Oh that is good. Thank you. I just can’t stand the noise of that ceiling fan.’
We silent for a little while and then she say, ‘Did I ever tell you the story about how Henry and I met and how we happen to get married?’
‘No, Miss Cicely, you never did.’
‘Henry came to Jamaica in 1903, the year the great hurricane destroyed most of the north-east of the island. His Chinese name was Hong Zilong, so the British immigration officer turned that into Henry Wong. And of course, the same thing happened to you. Anyway, Mr Johnson had gone to Kingston to get somebody to help out, not to work in the fields, you understand, but somebody who could do washing and cooking and things like that. And when Mr Johnson came back to Ocho Rios to the banana plantation we lived on, and where he was the foreman, he brought Henry with him.
‘Henry was just a boy, and his mother had put him on the boat from China with a fine collection of hampers of preserved food, crystallised fruit and pickled vegetables. Needless to say, by the time he had made the sea journey and arrived at the plantation he had nothing left. Not because he had eaten it all, but because he had been robbed every inch of the way. What Henry did have, though, were his clothes, into the lining of which his mother had sewn pieces of gold.
‘Henry ran a cookhouse for the plantation workers because Mr Johnson thought it was more economical and time-efficient if the workers shared communal food rather than everybody cooking for themself. So Henry made his money from that, and he earned some extra doing laundry that they brought down from the great house. He also ran errands for Mr Johnson taking messages here and there, going to fetch and carry, and sometimes cooking some special dinner for one of Mr Johnson’s women friends, of which he had plenty.
‘When Henry finally left he bought himself a grocery store in Ocho Rios, with the money he saved on the plantation and the gold from his mother.’
By this time I starting to feel the heat myself and my arm getting tired like it going drop off. Ethyl must have read my mind from the kitchen because right then the door open and she come in with a jug of ice-cold lemonade. I rest down the fan and I pour out two glass for me and Miss Cicely. Then Ethyl start point to the tray that the jug and the glasses sitting on, and I see a drinking straw laying there. She carry on pointing but I dunno what she mean, so eventually she just lean over and pick up the straw and stick it in the glass. So when I hold out the glass to Miss Cicely, and she reach out with her hand and steady it, I just hold the straw firm so she can find it with her mouth and suck. Next thing I hear is the click of the door as Ethyl close it behind her.
‘My mother ran off to Panama with another man and left me with him, my father, Mr Johnson. That’s how come I was there with him. Then along came Henry, and he showed me the first bit of kindness I experienced in my life. Henry Wong was the sweetest, gentlest man. A kinder man you could never meet. So when Mr Johnson told Henry that I was pregnant and I needed someone to care for me Henry just said yes. In truth, Mr Johnson talked him into it. He told Henry that now he had his shop doing so well he needed a wife. And pretty soon, because of my condition, he would have a whole family, and that was good for him. And when Henry asked him why he wasn’t going to be looking after me any more Mr Johnson said, “I don’t want a life with no baby running under my feet.” And when Henry asked him who the father of the baby was Mr Johnson just said, “Don’t you be worrying yourself ’bout that. I know the man concerned and he won’t be bothering you none.” Actually, I think Henry just felt sorry for me and thought that since he wasn’t planning on marrying anybody else he might as well marry me. I think that is how it was. Years later he got a woman in Ocho Rios. He thought I didn’t know, but I did. I just chose not to say anything about it, that was all.’
And then I think Miss Cicely start to cry even though I didn’t see no tears. It was just something ’bout how her mood change, how it sort of dip down. Or maybe she just start to cry inside.
‘When the baby came I decided to give him the same name as Mr Johnson, Stanley. So every time Mr Johnson came to sit at our table, he would look at Stanley and be reminded of the terrible thing he had done to me.’
I see a few beads of sweat appear on Miss Cicely’s forehead so I pick up the fan again and start make some breeze ’round her.
‘I suppose I worried that Stanley and Kenneth would turn out to be like him, Mr Johnson, even though Henry is Kenneth’s father. I worried that they had bad blood from him, through me, and they would turn out to be bad men. But more than that, they would turn out to be bad black men, and they would end up proving white people right, because that is the other thing a mother always has to be mindful of. So I was always on the lookout for any sign of Mr Johnson’s badness. I watched out for it. I warned Stanley and Kenneth against it. I tried to make up for it with my afternoon tea and Victoria sponge. And I called on Almighty God when I got frightened that we were going to give white people any reason to believe that they were right about us being wicked heathens. And that applied to the girls as well, that is why I spent so much time fighting with Fay. I can see that now.’
Miss Cicely’s funeral surprise me. Not because the church was so full, I sorta expected that, but because people had come from all over the island to pay their last respects.
There was people from Ocho Rios, who remember Miss Cicely from when Henry open his first shop and she used to spend Saturday mornings giving away food to the poor. There was people from Port Maria, where Miss Cicely’s mother come from, that she used to write letters to and, from time to time, send money to help ease their way. There was people from Montego Bay and Port Antonio that she meet through her various church gatherings and there was a whole load of Methodist ministers from all over the island.
Plus, there was the people I expected to see, the well-off of Kingston, or what was left of them anyway.
Fay didn’t come though. But that didn’t surprise me none, since there was no love lost between the two of them. Karl I knew for sure wouldn’t bother with it, but I sorta half fancy that maybe Mui would make the journey. But she didn’t.
A few days after the funeral Daphne call me to say she want to see me ’bout Miss Cicely’s will. When I go up to Lady Musgrave Road she sitting on the veranda with a bottle of Appleton by her side. When I walk up to her, she pour me a drink, but it look like she not drinking nothing herself. She tell me that Miss Cicely leave me all the supermarkets and wholesalers and wine merchants. And that she leave the house and contents, and a pile of money in the bank, to split between her and Fay.
I look at Daphne how tired she seem. Like her whole body sagging. Not that she big, because she is a trim woman. It more like the weight of her misery dragging her down. And then I think to myself that in all the years I know her, I never actually take her in before. But now I see she got a kind face. It sad, but it gentle and it sorta caring. Daphne would be the one to look after yu, even if every day yu would want to say to her ‘lively up yourself nuh’.
‘I feel honoured that Miss Cicely think so highly of me.’
‘It didn’t surprise me. She was always very fond of you, Pao, you must have known that. And in any case, you are the one who has been working so hard all of these years to make those businesses a success. It is only fair after all.’
I didn’t say nothing. I just wait because she look like maybe there was something else she want to say. Or maybe something she want me to say to her. A kind of wish that she was holding her breath for. But I wasn’t saying nothing. I still not forgive her for the business over Stanley’s address.
Daphne start up again, ‘I have no problem with any of that. My problem is that all of the money is in Jamaican dollars, and even if I manage to get a good price for this house there will be sizeable taxes and difficulties in getting the money off the island.’
‘What yu mean off the island?’
‘I want to go to England to be with Fay.’
She surprise me but then I think, well she not got nothing here anyway. So I say OK and I arrange to take the house off Daphne and have all the money change into US dollars. And then Margy move it to London and convert it to sterling. I give Daphne a good rate as well, better than the bank, and I didn’t keep no commission for myself. I reckon it was the least I could do for Fay.
Daphne so happy when she get to London and look in her bank account she ring me straight away to say thank you. Just before she hang up the telephone I say, ‘Say hello to Fay for me.’
It wasn’t till after Daphne leave Jamaica that Ethyl tell me that the first time I go visit Miss Cicely after she take sick, Daphne had the whole house in a state of excitement. She had the maids dusting and sweeping, and washing and scrubbing every inch of every ornament, every lamp and shade, every table, chair, sideboard, bedstead, wardrobe, dressing table, windowsill, skirting board, window shutter, wooden floor. Every toilet, sink and bathtub. Every cupboard door, glass pane, veranda rail and balustrade. Every doorknob and hinge. Every photo frame, picture and wall hanging. There was that much to do.
Daphne had Edmond clear and spruce up the garden. Trim the lawn and tennis court. Cut back the bougainvillaea. Weed the rose beds. Sweep up the mangoes from under the tree. Cut hibiscus and red ginger for the vases in the house.
She had Ethyl throw open every window to give the house a good airing, and position two wicker armchairs next to each other on the veranda with one of them occasional table in between. And she had Ethyl place a ashtray and box of matches next to the cigars that she instruct Edmond to buy for her the day before.
She had them shop for oysters and she get them make fresh hot red-pepper sauce. She even have Edmond wash and polish the Wong maroon Mercedes so that it could stand proud and gleaming in the driveway.
Then she sit on the veranda, in Miss Cicely’s favourite chair, and wait. Ethyl tell me that Daphne wait there till the midday sun pass over. She wait till the afternoon shower come and gone. She wait till the smell of cool rain on hot grass fade and the sound of crickets begin to threaten. That was when I finally show up and the whole house breathe a mighty sigh of relief.
‘You don’t remember nothing ’bout it?’
‘No, Ethyl, I don’t. I remember I was later than I wanted to be, and I remember standing on the veranda steps with her asking me if I wanted to take some sorrel with her. But my arms was full of chocolates and grapenut ice cream for Miss Cicely and I didn’t want to stop. I just tell her I want to go straight through and she step aside so I could go into the house.’
And then with Ethyl telling me all of this, I cast my mind back to the morning I go take Daphne to the airport, and how she hug me so long and close I thought she wasn’t going let me go.
I sell the Wong house to a property developer who turn it into a nice little hotel with the swimming pool and tennis court and everything, even though they rip up the grass and put down a hard court because they didn’t want the expense of having to water it and tend it all the time in that heat.
I ask Gloria if she want the house before I sell it and she say no. And then she say to me, ‘What I would like is a little place on the north coast. Back off the road, in one of them little coves outside Ocho Rios where Esther can bring our grandchildren and we can be together and relax like a family.’
When we go up to Ochie to look for a house it turn out Gloria already know the place she want. It in a little cove, just like she describe it, with a private beach and a nice veranda looking out to sea. It small but it nice and fresh with the breeze blowing through it. And not only does Gloria know the exact house but the caretaker know her by name. It turn out that the house belong to Henry Wong. It still in his name even though him been dead all these years because nobody in Kingston don’t know nothing ’bout him owning it. So the sale complicated, but it Jamaica, so I pay the realtor and him fix things just fine. When I go sign the papers my mind reflect back to when Henry was laying sick in the Chinese Sanatorium and how Hampton tell me one day that he think him see Gloria up there and when I ask him who she visiting him say him dunno because him only see her in the car park. But I didn’t say nothing to Gloria because it seem to me that whatever happen between them was all a long time ago. And anyway, like Sun Tzu say, ‘ Do not linger in desolate ground .’