Romy sat in the back of the rickshaw racing down Avenue Joffre wringing her hands. Usually she loved Frenchtown’s wide avenues, elegant villas and soaring trees, but today the streetscape felt menacing. Japanese soldiers disappeared around the opposite corner. The branches of the plane trees swooped and overlapped, blocking the searing heat and casting ghostly shadows on the footpath.

These past two weeks she’d spent many sticky nights with a cool damp cloth on her neck, huddled around Mr Lam’s secret shortwave radio with Mutti and Papa. They crowded under the stairs at night after work—sipping tea or perhaps a mug of vegetable stock with some chunks of turnip or soggy millet. Sometimes, Romy bounced one of the Lam toddlers on her knee, hugging the squishy little body tight. The German government had surrendered in May—just a little over a week after the Führer suicided with his younger lover. The Allies were negotiating how to carve up the territories. But the real reason they listened was to catch the whispers of liberation of the northern European concentration camps. Some prisoners were walking free, but still there were mutterings…Chatter in the laneways, the Chusan Road markets and at the hospital was always an unreliable mixture of conjecture, Russian propaganda and exaggeration. The Japanese, of course, never confirmed or denied the rumours.

It was difficult to get mail into Shanghai as Japan still controlled the supply lines. But the Americans were bombing Tokyo, so perhaps they would have news of Daniel soon. If the bombs loosened the Japanese stranglehold on China, surely there might be some gaps in the blockades where news and supplies could be smuggled through? Delma knew someone who’d received a letter from family in Europe. Romy wasn’t giving up hope.

The war may have ended in Europe, but the Japanese were digging their claws into Shanghai. Even if Daniel were free to travel now, it would be impossible for him to find a ship permitted to enter the port.

As soon as she’d arrived at Ward Road Hospital that morning, a coolie with dull eyes had leaped in front of her and handed her a paperback copy of Les Misérables.

‘Missee Romy?’

‘Yes.’

‘This is for you. You must come now.’ Then he’d leaned in close enough for her to smell his sour breath and whispered, ‘Chop chop. I have rickshaw. Come.’

Romy knew the heavy book was from Li. It was a newer edition than the one from their days at Puyuan and she flipped through the crisp pages, softening at the sight of Li’s doodles. When she reached a page with a folded corner, somewhere in the middle of the back third, she squinted at the faintest lettering in lead pencil between the lines of thick serif text. So faint that, unless you were looking for it, it seemed like merely a scratch on the page.

Romy, please help. Come now. Bring your medical bag.

Now Romy clutched the bag beside her as the rickshaw pulled up outside a Spanish villa covered with creeping Chinese star jasmine.

Jumping out of the rickshaw with a breathless thanks to the driver, she ran to the front door.

The heavy oak door was opened before she had a chance to knock. The housekeeper glanced at the medical kit Romy was carrying and said, ‘She’s been waiting for you.’

The small woman ushered Romy into a grand sitting room lined with black Chinoiserie wallpaper painted with turquoise peonies and kingfishers. Plush Persian carpets covered the black marble floor. A glossy grand piano stood in the far corner. This opulence made Romy queasy—as if she had gorged on a whole steamer basket of pork dumplings after a long fast.

She took a deep breath.

At the end of the room was an enormous photograph of Li in a heavy gold frame. Though it was softened and blurred at the edges to look like a painting of a Calendar Girl, the plunging crystal ballgown shimmered in the light. Li wore a striking beaded headband. Romy sighed—she still had Jian’s photo from when they were girls tucked into her diary.

In this recent picture, Li’s black hair was trimmed to a sleek bob, her chin was raised, and those mesmerising dark eyes stared defiantly at the camera.

‘Li?’ Romy said, striding towards the shadow standing beneath the photo. ‘What’s wrong? Are you hurt?’

‘You came,’ said Li with relief. ‘Thank you, dear Romy.’ She sounded a little out of breath. Li waved at the photo overhead. ‘Jian took this, of course. Chang insisted on having some photographs of his new sing-song girl, and I begged him to let my brother take them.’

There was a pause, and when Li spoke again, her voice was low and broken. ‘What is the point of all this—’ she waved her arm around to indicate the luxurious surroundings ‘—if I can’t help to save the ones I love?’

She clasped her pendant.

‘I did all this to save Jian. They were going to kill him, you know. Kill us both if we refused to collaborate.’

Romy swallowed and nodded. The Hos’ faces visited her in her sleep, sometimes. Benjamin and Daniel’s sunny faces merged with the decapitated Hos as her dreams turned to terror.

‘I agreed to sing for Chang Wu at the Cathay if he spared my brother. But he wanted…’ Her voice trailed off.

Romy nodded her understanding.

‘He insisted Jian work for the police. Told him I would be killed if he didn’t. He said the Kempeitai wanted to make an example of Jian because his parents openly resisted the occupation. They wanted a living reminder just a hair away from the scythe. So you see, we were trapped.’ She sighed. ‘I wish some days I’d chosen death. Do you think we are cowards, Romy?’

Romy froze. She didn’t know what to think.

‘I thought you would understand. You aren’t welcome in your own country, and we are treated like dogs in ours. My parents refused to collaborate, and now they are dead. I do not wish this for my brother.’

Li flicked on a golden lamp then turned to Romy with mournful eyes. There was no mistaking the ripe belly beneath her yellow silk kimono. Li was with child. In her last trimester, certainly. Her best friend was going to be a mother.

She hesitated, then enveloped Li in a hug. ‘A baby! And you didn’t tell me?’ Romy was crying now. Her tears were a salty mix of resentment and jealousy mixed with fresh fear and excitement for her friend. A baby!

‘How could I? I tried to send Jian to tell you but he said it was better for you if you didn’t know. This is our burden, not yours.’

‘You’re never a burden,’ said Romy—feeling uncharitable as her blood pumped with rejection. She was furious with Li for not responding to the messages she sent via Wilhelm. Hurt that Wilhelm had chosen Li over Romy. The tears stung her cheeks as she struggled to focus.

Li needed her help. Romy wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand as she worked out what to do next. She eyed Li’s stomach and stepped a little closer.

‘I’m here now.’ Romy placed her hands on Li’s protruding belly, and felt the taut skin and movements of elbows and legs stretching the skin. Li looked tired, but she had a natural rosiness to her cheeks.

Romy felt the contraction and looked up. ‘You’re in labour.’

‘Yes.’ Li’s voice quavered. ‘I’m sorry.’ She started to sob. ‘I didn’t want to involve you—but I need you. This baby…I still have—’ she looked at her housekeeper, who held up her fingers ‘—four weeks left.’

Li wiped away her tears as Romy felt the tightening in Li’s belly.

‘I haven’t worked for months. Chang has moved on to fresher flowers, of course. Though he keeps watch. This baby is his sweet prize, after all, from his best sing-song girl. Everything is a game he has to win. Jian brings me food: rice, a sliver of duck breast. And Wilhelm sends bread.’ She flushed as she met Romy’s eyes before looking sad. ‘That night at the Cathay when we were almost caught by Chang, Mr Khaira said it was you who warned us. We realised it was too dangerous. I haven’t seen Wilhelm since.’

Romy nodded.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But—’ she smiled sadly ‘—we couldn’t help it.’

Romy tried to smile her understanding but her lungs felt tight with jealousy. She couldn’t help but love Wilhelm too. His easy smile, the way his fingers shaped the dough, the permanent smattering of flour in his hair and on the tip of his nose. Wilhelm had a quiet strength. Romy missed their friendship.

‘I tried to protect you from this mess. Wu made it clear that any friend I tried to contact would be killed—and Jian would be killed too.’ Li’s voice was raw. ‘He has spies everywhere: Kempeitai, White Russians—he even has spies in the Jewish ghetto. Chang Wu works for the highest bidder.’ Her voice dripped with contempt. She ran her finger across the black wallpaper, and traced the petals of a peony. ‘He sneaks through this war like a filthy rat, living off the scraps from all sides.’

Romy thought of Dr Ho standing in the living room at Puyuan in his white cotton shirt reciting, ‘To starve to death is a very small matter, to lose one’s integrity is a grave matter.’ She closed her eyes, willing away the image of Benjamin’s bloody face and twisted body. Benjamin, Dr Ho and Wilma all spoke out and they were all dead. Li was doing what was necessary to protect her brother. To save her baby…

‘Sometimes Wu arranges deals for weapons and tobacco. He doesn’t care who for—Chinese or Japanese. Whoever pays the most.’ Li sighed. ‘When I met Wilhelm at the Cathay, he’d already started to notice the movements of the Japanese munitions trucks from the Hongkew factories during his weekly Pao Chia patrols. He wanted to find some way to stop them.’

Suddenly, as a contraction hit, Li doubled over and clutched the edge of the velvet sofa. The housekeeper rubbed her back, murmuring in a low voice as Li rocked her hips from side to side for almost a minute.

‘You should let me check how dilated you are,’ said Romy, frowning. Her main concern was Li and this baby. Explanations could wait.

Li batted Romy’s hand away and gritted her teeth, ‘I—I asked Wilhelm to take some messages to Jian for me. To let Jian know I was okay, but also—’ she gasped for air and rocked again, groaning with pain ‘—to let Jian know about the deals. The weapons…’

‘Shh,’ said Romy softly, brushing the damp hair from Li’s forehead. ‘Let me feel your stomach properly.’ She reached inside the kimono and felt the contraction.

Li looked up and placed both hands on Romy’s cheeks as she sobbed. ‘I miss you. I never got to thank you for trying to protect us. But I think about you every day. You and Jian.’

She reached up and grabbed one of Romy’s curls, winding it around her finger before letting it spring back into place. ‘Fancy you being nearly a doctor. My clever friend.’ She sighed and rested her forehead against Romy’s for a beat.

As Li winced and squeezed her eyes shut with pain again, Romy inhaled the shame of her own resentment. Li had lost none of her qijie.

But this baby was coming right now, far too early. Romy needed to focus.

‘Can you please fetch some towels and hot water?’ Romy asked the housekeeper as she ushered Li onto the Persian carpet so she could check how dilated she was and get a proper feel of the baby’s position. Romy’s hands shook—she’d only assisted at births at Ward Road when there were midwives present.

‘Did anyone see you arrive?’ Li asked urgently.

‘I’ve no idea. Why?’

‘I’m being watched by Japanese soldiers. Even though Wu doesn’t want me himself, I am forbidden to leave the house or receive visitors. He doesn’t know about Wilhelm, but there were times when he couldn’t exactly place where I was at the Cathay—that was enough for him to grow suspicious. Especially as I became less…convincing in my responses to him. This is my prison.’

Li sighed and cupped her belly. ‘Wu thinks this baby is his. That’s the only reason I’m allowed to stay here.’

‘Is it?’

‘It’s Wilhelm’s.’ She rubbed her belly. ‘I can feel her—the rolling, the strength. This is a happy child, not a poisoned one.’

She yelped out as water gushed from between her legs onto the Persian carpet.

Romy knelt between Li’s shaking legs, coaxing out the baby’s head. The baby had taken less than an hour to crown once Li’s waters broke.

‘Just one more push, Li.’

Li screamed and groaned in agony as she clenched her housekeeper’s hands and pushed the baby out.

As she entered the world, the baby screwed up her pink little face and started to squall.

The housekeeper rolled the baby over, rotated the hips and administered two swift thumps between the shoulder blades before opening Li’s kimono and placing the naked baby on her chest to suckle. The baby’s hair was not quite black, and she had curls. She was clearly Wilhelm’s daughter.

Li lay back on silk cushions, cooing at her baby even though her face was pale and scrunched up with pain. Romy was busy with one hand in Li’s uterus, trying to stem a postpartum bleed—but still the blood gushed and pooled around her knees on the carpet. She prodded Li’s stomach with her other hand as she continued to probe internally for the piece of retained placenta. Li was bleeding out, sweat beading on her brow and upper lip as she fought to remain conscious. Her grip on her child loosened.

The housekeeper grabbed a sheet and swaddled the baby tight.

Romy kissed her dear friend on the forehead.

There was a knock at the door and some shouting.

Li sank deeper into the pillow, struggling to speak. Her voice was barely a whisper. ‘It’s them. Chang Wu and his men. The soldiers must have seen you arrive and reported it to him. He’ll know this isn’t his baby. Look…’ She reached out to stroke the child’s lighter curls as her housekeeper held the child. ‘They’ll kill you, Romy. You have to leave.’

Romy shook her head and begged the housekeeper, ‘Help me! Help me move her.’

‘Quickly,’ Li moaned. ‘There’s no time. Take my housekeeper and Shu.’

The housekeeper stood and shook her head as she held the baby out.

Romy took the wriggling bundle and pulled her to her chest.

‘You must go,’ begged Li. ‘I had a deadbolt put on the door because Wu has a key. But it won’t hold out for long…’

There was more furious beating at the door and yelling. It sounded like there was a screaming mob gathered outside on the doorstep.

Li grabbed Romy’s hand. ‘Leave now through the kitchen into the back alley. Take her to Wilhelm.’ She ripped the jade pendant from her neck and held it out for Romy. ‘And give Shu this. Tell her I love her.’

‘I promise.’

‘Tell Jian—’ But all at once she subsided, too weak to continue.

Hot tears were streaming down Romy’s cheeks as she tried to quell her panic. Her lungs were so heavy with shock she wasn’t sure if she could run.

She pressed her wet cheek to the pale, clammy cheek of her friend. ‘I’m so sorry, Li,’ she choked out. Why had she wasted a minute being angry or jealous of her dear friend? After all they’d been through.

‘Go. Save my daughter,’ Li begged in a whisper.

‘I’ll take care of her. I’ll take her to Wilhelm, I promise. And I’ll find Jian…’

Romy took one last glance at her friend slipping into unconsciousness and felt her heart break. Then holding the baby close, she ran towards the kitchen.

She was just slipping through the side gate when she heard two shots.