42.

Belle next saw Harry at a typically English breakfast of tea, toast, bacon and eggs. He seemed pretty subdued as he asked if he could keep her company and, when she said that he could, he pulled out a chair and shuffled into it.

‘Sorry about last night,’ he muttered. ‘I must have got the wrong place.’

‘What were you thinking, Harry?’ she demanded, but he looked so disconsolate that although she’d been frightened by the sight of the so-called jade dealer, she decided to let it go.

Harry focused on his hands and then glanced up at her with a worried look. Belle felt the man was all nerves and growing more so as the trip progressed.

‘I have bad news,’ he said.

‘Oh? I hope it’s not too troubling.’

‘For you, I mean.’

She raised her brows.

‘I went to the station to book you a train ticket.’

‘That’s kind.’

‘We agreed I would.’

‘Indeed.’

He held his breath for a few seconds before he spoke. ‘There are no trains.’

‘What?’

‘Some of the tracks have been blown up further down the line.’

‘When will they be fixed?’

‘They aren’t saying. Could be some time, I imagine.’

‘So, what do I do? Go back down the Irrawaddy?’

‘It’ll take two weeks.’

‘By which time I’ll have lost my job.’

‘My contact is going to do what he can to find out about the state of the tracks. My advice is to sit tight and we’ll hopefully hear something more tomorrow, though you might have to wait a while.’

Belle sighed. She did not want to sit tight. Mandalay was horrifically hot and the monsoon would be starting before too long. She didn’t relish being stuck here for days on end.

She headed for the lounge where she planned to remain for the rest of the morning, relaxing beneath the relative cool of a fan and in safety from whatever might be out there. She picked up a magazine and watched the guests coming and going, but it was a tedious and deadly dull morning so she found a book in the hotel lounge and went outside to the small garden. With a delicate ivory hand fan she swept away the flying insects humming in the torpid air and when she reached a small pool she watched white lilies floating on the surface and goldfish swimming beneath them. As for her search for her sister, she felt frustrated and sad. She’d often wondered how it would be if she were to meet her sister now, if she really was still alive. She’d wondered what she’d say, what her sister might have looked like, how they both would have felt. Would Elvira’s hair be like her own or more like their mother’s? Would she be taller or shorter than she was? Would her eyes have been green too? Well, she thought resignedly, I may never know, and in any case, Elvira might well be dead.

At least if she gave up the search it would leave her free to concentrate on her career again. She was thinking about that and wondering about planning a new routine when she heard someone call her name. She spun round and couldn’t prevent a gasp of surprise.

‘Oliver!’

He nodded and remained where he was, looking unusually stiff and hesitant.

‘I don’t understand. What are you doing here?’

‘I’m here because you didn’t call me back. I left two urgent messages with Harry Osborne.’

She felt confused by the deluge of mixed emotion. She had felt such a burst of happiness at hearing his voice, yet she couldn’t forget how they’d parted. ‘How did you know I was here?’

‘Tried all the hotels until I found the right one.’

She narrowed her eyes as she searched his face and hoped her feelings weren’t too obvious. He gazed back at her with those candid blue eyes of his and she couldn’t deny the attraction, even after everything. Tanned and strong, he remained very still. Even though she fought against it, she felt herself soften. She itched to run her fingers through his unruly hair and then pull back his head so that she might caress his neck … She reached out a hand but then withdrew it.

‘Nobody said you’d called,’ she said in a tight little voice.

‘I left a message with Harry the morning you arrived, and then another. I phoned the reception and, as it happened, he was at the desk both times, so knowing you and he were together they passed the phone to him. I emphasized how critical it was and left my number for you to call me immediately. He said he’d pass it on straight away so I waited.’

‘How did you get here?’

‘Was lucky to get a fast overnight train.’

‘I didn’t know there were fast trains.’

He smiled. ‘Rare beasts, but they exist.’

She frowned. ‘But how? The tracks have been blown up.’

‘Not on the north-bound line.’

‘Did you see anything? Of the damage, I mean?’

He grinned. ‘Nope. May have nodded off.’

‘Why are you here, Oliver?’

They were interrupted by Harry entering the garden.

‘I’ll tell you later,’ Oliver whispered before striding across to Harry. ‘Now look here, Osborne,’ he said. ‘Belle tells me you didn’t relay the messages I gave you.’

Harry looked cornered. ‘Didn’t I? Thought I had.’

‘You know damn well you didn’t.’

Harry twisted his hat in his hands and glanced over at Belle. ‘I am so sorry. They went clean out of my mind. I had so much to attend to, you see.’

Oliver looked annoyed but didn’t speak.

‘Look, why don’t you let me make it up to you?’ Harry continued. ‘I know an excellent Chinese restaurant. It’s where I was hoping to take Belle for a meal, but why don’t we all go? Shall we say midday? My treat.’

Oliver raised his brows at Belle, who nodded.

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘But it’s one hell of an oversight.’

‘Yes, sorry, I do realize.’ Harry put his panama hat on his head and smiled nervously. ‘Well, now. I just need to make a phone call. Do forgive me.’

Belle wasn’t sure if he was still apologizing for not passing on the message or for having to leave to make a call.

Once Harry had gone Oliver stepped over to Belle. ‘I wanted to apologize too.’

‘Well, this does seem to be the morning for it,’ she said with a smile, unable to conceal how pleased she felt that he was there.

‘I was clumsy … back then. Truly, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I want to say you’re so much more to me than a story.’

‘And you expect me to believe you?’ she said, although in a gentler tone than before. Despite a nagging voice in her head, she so wanted to have faith in him she felt sure it must be written all over her face.

‘I’m happy to help you and not print a word of it, if that will convince you.’

She stared down at the ground and there was a short silence while she thought about it. Then she looked up and as their eyes met something wonderful passed between them, making her feel so cared for she could not turn him down.

‘I am very much in need of a friend right now, Oliver. But I absolutely need to know I can trust you.’

He nodded solemnly.

‘In that case …’ she said, then pulled out the second anonymous note from her bag and passed it to him.

He read it and looked up at her. ‘Someone is trying to scare you. Do you trust Harry?’

‘Of course. He’s been very helpful. Though he took me to a weird place last night. Said it was a mistake.’

Oliver puffed out his cheeks, then exhaled slowly. ‘I wonder what’s going on?’

‘With Harry?’

‘No. I meant the note.’

She shook her head. ‘Well, they’ve succeeded in scaring me. I’ve been afraid of my own shadow since receiving it, even before, actually. I had a panic attack in the market.’

‘I’ve been worried about you. There’s been trouble in Rangoon and the word is it’s spreading, possibly to Mandalay.’

‘Tell me.’

‘The students have been rioting. It’s the second university students’ strike, this one triggered by the expulsion of Aung San and Ko Nu.’

‘And they are?’

‘Leaders of the Rangoon University Students Union. They refused to reveal the name of the author who’d written an article in their university magazine. It included a scathing attack on one of the senior university officials.’

‘They were expelled for that?’

‘The British reprisals for the riot have been ugly. As I said, the fear is it may spread to Mandalay, and soon. I phoned to warn you, but as you didn’t call back I took the train here. I needed to be certain you were safe.’

‘Shouldn’t you be back there reporting on it?’

He took her hand and she felt the warmth of his skin making her own tingle.

‘Already done, and there’s not much more to say at present. In any case, I wanted to see you, and now I’m here there’s no chance I’m going to leave you on your own. Whoever is trying to upset you will have me to deal with.’

At lunchtime Belle and Oliver met up with a very talkative Harry. He spoke about his job as they walked and told them of the dark recesses of Burma he still hadn’t surveyed. He then went on to tell them about Angela, what a kind person she was, blonde and so petite but pretty with it. They’d met in London, married and travelled out to Burma together, though she hadn’t really wanted to come. He led them on foot through the thronging backstreets of Mandalay as he continued his monologue, sounding a little edgy. Belle wondered again about Harry’s nerviness, although she was becoming used to his odd ways. People were out conducting their business or smoking at little tea shops and food stalls. Belle smelt the dried fish stall before they even reached it and it was all she could do not to hold her nose. She paused beside a woman selling bowlfuls of odd yellow, orange and red things, looking for all the world like brightly coloured worms.

‘Sweets,’ Harry said, seeing Belle’s puzzled expression.

Beyond that, vegetables and beans were piled high in baskets. Then came a stall packed with nuts and roots. The place was noisy and a little intimidating, as the three of them were the only non-Burmese in sight. But Oliver held her arm, giving her a squeeze from time to time, reminding her of his promise not to leave her alone.

Eventually they reached a quieter, more rundown area.

‘Are you sure this is okay?’ Oliver said.

Harry nodded emphatically. ‘Yes, yes. Of course. It’s a little out of the way, but I have it on good form it really is the best.’

‘You’ve not been there before?’

‘No. But I am assured.’

Oliver shrugged. ‘If you’re certain.’

They carried on into a terribly seedy network of streets deep in the Chinese quarter.

‘Is it all right, do you think?’ Belle whispered to Oliver as Harry crossed the street and stood in front of what must be the restaurant.

‘I guess we’ll find out.’ He wrapped an arm around Belle’s shoulders and they followed Harry through the door.

Apart from themselves, the restaurant was deserted save for a lone barman.

‘Why so empty if it’s supposed to be so good?’ Belle said. ‘I don’t get it.’

‘We’re early,’ Harry replied. ‘I imagine it’s only just opened.’

‘But I can’t smell anything cooking, can you?’

‘Maybe not yet.’

‘I could do with a beer,’ Oliver said. ‘But there don’t appear to be any bottles behind the bar.’

‘They probably store them in the fridges out at the back,’ Harry said.

Oliver snapped his fingers at the barman, who nodded and then slipped out through a swing door.

‘There you are,’ said Harry. ‘As I said. Out at the back. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find the conveniences.’

While Harry was gone Belle and Oliver talked for a few minutes. He told her he’d missed her while she’d been away, and she told him about her thrilling balloon ride over Bagan. And yet, although he held her eyes, she was also aware that from time to time he was surveying the room as if in search of something. When, after a few more minutes, Harry hadn’t returned, Oliver stood abruptly, grabbed Belle’s hand and pulled her to her feet.

‘I don’t like this,’ he said, his voice tense.

She shivered as she held on to him.

‘Come on. We’re getting out of here. Something isn’t right.’

He pushed her out in front of him as they made a dash for the door. Once outside, he kept hold of her hand and they began to run.

With a blinding flash of white light, the blast rocked the street, the heat so intense Belle felt her bones had melted. Thrown back against the wall of a house, she was helpless to save herself and her heart hammered wildly at the sound of terrified screams. Flying debris and exploding glass forced her to crouch down and shield her head with her arms. In shock and disbelief, she tried to swallow but with a mouth full of grit her throat hurt badly and the taste of acrid smoke on the tongue made her heave. At first it was like charcoal but when mixed with the blood in her mouth it turned bitter and rank. She tried to call out for Oliver, only faintly aware she might have lost him. She could neither hear him in the deafening din, nor see him in the thick cloud of black ash billowing above and around the street. She closed her sore, dry eyes and became aware of a pain in her head, as if someone had punched her. When she opened her eyes, her vision swam. It was hot. Far, far too hot. She tried to scream but her throat, still raw from the dust and heat, made only a rasping sound. For a moment she felt she was floating. Then everything turned black.

When she came back to consciousness Oliver was squatting by her side, his brilliant blue eyes shining out from his dirty dust-streaked face. He’s alive, she thought. He’s alive. He stroked her hair and then sat down beside her. Dazed and horrified by what had happened, neither spoke. After a few minutes he seemed to collect himself, rose and then helped her to her feet too. Then they clung to each other, giving in to the overwhelming feelings of reprieve at finding themselves and each other still alive.

‘Do you think you can walk?’ he asked as they drew apart.

She nodded.

‘I thought …’ Numb with shock, her voice cracked, and she couldn’t say the awful words.

‘Me too.’ And she could see his eyes were wet with tears.

He supported her as she hobbled to the side of the street, where she leant against the wall, her head pounding. Then he turned back to help anyone else he could to their feet. Some with minor injuries were already scrambling up, while other more seriously hurt individuals still lay on the ground. Oliver ensured an ambulance was on its way and did what he could for each of them before returning to Belle.

He reached out his hands to her. ‘Let me look you over.’

Instead of taking his hands, she wiped a smear of black dust from his left cheek and then closed her eyes.

‘Belle?’

She nodded, but feeling dizzy and light-headed, found it impossible to express the tumult going on within her. She wanted to weep so badly, but her eyes were dry and the unshed tears had somehow blocked her throat.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked when she eventually opened her eyes again.

‘I’m fine. Now let me look you over.’

She was filthy from the dust and grit of the explosion and it was difficult at first to work out what was what, but after a few moments he deduced she only had a few cuts and grazes and no grave injuries.

He suggested they call a doctor to come to the hotel instead of traipsing up to the hospital where the staff would be overrun and the care mediocre. Belle’s legs were still shaking as they made their way back through the winding streets, but she leant against him and he wrapped an arm around her as she took small shuffling steps, stumbling every so often. Finally they found a lone rickshaw.

As he supported her through the front door and into the lobby they met Harry hurrying down the stairs, carrying his suitcase. His face lost all colour when he saw them and he tried to brush past, muttering something about being called away.

Oliver grabbed him by the arm. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said, and glancing at Belle to make sure she was all right, he let go of her and half dragged the smaller man through to a snug at the back of the main reception area. Belle followed behind.

‘What happened to you?’ Oliver demanded, his face thunderous.

Harry stared and attempted to speak, but it came out as an incomprehensible stutter.

‘Say that again.’

‘I – I – I went out to the back.’

‘Let me get this straight. You went out the back. Because?’

‘To – to – the conveniences.’

‘But you didn’t return?’

Harry looked at his feet, then up at Belle, guilt written all over his face.

‘Listen, you fucking rat,’ growled Oliver, ‘you nearly got us both killed. Now you tell me exactly what’s going on.’

Harry, pushing his spectacles back up his nose again and again, looked terrified.

Oliver was gripping the man’s arm and now he shook him. ‘The truth, Harry.’

Harry still didn’t speak.

‘Do you really want me to break your arm?’

Harry shook his head. ‘Please don’t hurt me,’ he said with a sob. ‘I didn’t know.’

‘Didn’t know what?’ Belle asked as she sank into a chair.

‘They said I had no choice.’

‘Or?’

She’d spoken coldly and Harry blanched, his own voice coming out in a whisper as, head bent, he addressed his words to the floor. ‘If I didn’t do what they wanted they would hurt my wife.’

Belle ran a hand through her dusty hair and scratched her scalp. Was he even telling the truth? Had Harry been responsible for the note she’d been given? Then she noticed a bleeding cut on her arm and, while Oliver watched, she dabbed it with her skirt. When she was done she scrutinized Harry’s face; saw the shattered state he was in. And, despite feeling so angry and shaken herself, couldn’t help feeling a trace of pity for this trembling wreck of a man.

‘And what did they want you to do?’ Oliver asked.

Harry glanced up and met Oliver’s furious glare for the first time. ‘I swear I didn’t know it would be this bad.’

‘So, how bad did you think it would be?’

‘I thought they were just going to frighten her.’

Oliver spluttered. ‘Well, that is big of you. Frightening a young woman who has done nothing to you is okay, is it?’

Harry bit his lip and looked at Belle pleadingly. ‘They said they would hurt Angela. She already suffers with her nerves, you know.’

Oliver released his grip and roughly shoved Harry into a chair.

‘I think you’d better tell us everything.’

Harry did not speak.

‘Harry,’ Belle said, leaning forward. ‘You really do have to tell us.’

‘I am sorry,’ he said with a quick glance at her.

‘So?’

Once again Harry didn’t respond.

‘Now look here, you little shit –’ Oliver intervened, but then paused, pacing back and forth for a moment or two as he struggled to get his fury under control. Belle felt sure Oliver was itching to take a swing at the other man and beckoned for him to hold back.

‘Who was it, Harry? Who got you to do this?’ she asked.

Harry’s face crumpled and his glasses misted up. ‘Delay her, they said.’

Oliver turned on him. ‘Who?’

‘I swear I didn’t know it would be a bomb. They said I had to call a number and tell them Belle was on her way to the restaurant. The barman said he needed to talk to me about something and we went to the storeroom at the back and he said we had to leave. I heard the blast and then I knew.’

‘Right, Harry,’ Oliver said coldly, ‘I reckon this is what we are going to do …’