Romy stood in the queue at the ghetto checkpoint, jiggling Li’s newborn baby, swaddled tight under a woollen coat she had purchased for a couple of dollars from a sallow man sitting at a trestle table. Sweat dripped down her neck in rivulets and she flapped the coat to let fresh air circulate inside. She drew stagnant air deep into her aching lungs.

Just as she stepped over the line the baby started to squirm and gave a weak cry like a kitten. She wrapped both arms around her bundle and pulled it snug against her belly. Her sweat was sour. If Chang Wu somehow found out Romy had been at the house with Li, she couldn’t risk him finding out that she had entered the ghetto with a Chinese baby. They would both be killed once he realised the little girl was not his child.

She coughed and stepped forwards with her chin slightly raised, showing more bravado than she felt.

‘Pass,’ snapped a Chinese guard. He turned to look at Romy, and the dark eyes were unmistakable as he held out his hand.

Jian.

He held his bayonet in front of his chest and with a shake of his head signalled to Romy to get moving, as if she were merely another prisoner he had to follow on this hot day.

‘You are a student. Special pass.’ He said loudly as he quietly gestured that she should show her pass while he shielded her body from the Japanese soldiers.

Romy peeled back one side of the coat to reveal the swaddled baby as adrenaline pumped through her veins.

When they were out of earshot, Romy couldn’t stifle her tears any longer. ‘I’m sorry. She’s, she’s…’ Romy couldn’t bear to say Li’s name.

‘What?’ Jian held her gaze and shook his head in disbelief. Blood drained from his face. ‘Li…’ His voice broke with anguish.

Romy’s grief switched to a burning fury. ‘You knew she was pregnant and you didn’t help her?’ Romy spat out the words in disgust and stepped into the filthy gutter away from Jian.

Other soldiers started to approach Romy, leering and pulling coins from their pockets. Jian waved them away quickly, as if to indicate he was escorting her to a back alley for his own pleasure.

‘She didn’t tell me she was in labour.’ He touched her elbow, imploring her to look at him. ‘Please, we need to keep walking.’ He glanced left and right. ‘People will be watching us if we don’t move away quickly.’

As they started to walk towards the hospital, the baby’s crying changed gears and Romy started to shake with fury.

‘We had people watching her house. Protecting her.’ His voice quivered with shock as he covered his face with his hands.

‘Well, they failed,’ she hissed. ‘How could you let this happen? Your own sister!’ Romy felt so tired, so bereft, she could lie down in the filthy gutter and never get up again.

Jian removed his hands and his face was pale. When he looked at Romy, his eyes brimmed with tears and she regretted her outburst. Jian blamed himself. His breath had shortened and each step was agony.

Romy understood Jian’s pain. To live, when those you love are dead, is a cruel, bitter luck.

‘She knew the risks, Romy,’ he whispered softly. ‘You were there when our parents were killed. Did you know they also had stakes prepared for Li and me?’

Romy shivered, despite the rivulets of sweat running down her back.

‘We’ve been living on borrowed time—’

‘No.’ Romy shook her head, not wanting to think about losing Jian too.

Jian touched her arm gently. ‘That night in the storeroom, we made a pact that we would do whatever it took to see that the Japanese don’t win this war.’

Romy shook her head. ‘Your parents would have wanted you to survive.’

‘My parents taught us to do our duty. To do what is right. You know this, Romy.’

‘Why did you let Li go to Chang Wu?’ she sobbed, clutching the baby.

‘No-one else would help us—everyone else was too scared after they killed our parents. I still don’t know why your mother was spared. If we’d stayed with you and your parents, they would have killed you too. Do you think we would risk that? It was Li’s idea to go to Chang Wu. I disagreed at first. Why should we put our trust in a gangster? And he was there when our parents—’ Jian’s voice started to crack. ‘But he offered protection, and we agreed that it was better to appear to collaborate. To stay close to our enemies. The best revenge in war is victory, no?’

Romy let that sink in, before she asked, ‘You said we, before. We had people watching the house. Who’s we?’ Romy inhaled sharply. ‘I never thought you were a collaborator. I just—’

Jian stepped closer to her now, and once more she was sixteen years old on the balcony at Grosvenor House. Jian’s voice cracked. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve misunderstood me, Romy.’

Romy wanted to reach out and hold Jian, but she couldn’t risk being spotted. Instead, she pressed her face against the bricks to cool her cheeks and jiggled the baby.

Jian explained: ‘Li was passing messages about Chang Wu’s shady business agreements with the Japanese. Wilhelm started to track when an order was fulfilled by a Hongkew factory. He discovered that Jewish- and Chinese-owned plants were forced to produce unmarked grenades for the Japanese army—on the hush-hush, of course.’

Romy shook her head, struggling to keep up.

‘Wilhelm arranged for his Jewish contacts working at the factory to shorten the fuse, so the grenades wouldn’t explode. My part was to let resisters know about the munitions factories and when orders were made. All thanks to Li.’ Jian’s voice was a sad whisper.

‘Wilhelm is a spy? Li too?’ Romy gasped and shook her head. ‘You’re all in the resistance?’

‘Call it what you want, but really we were just cobbling together information when we could get it, then feeding it to the right people. It’s no different to what your father has been doing for years to secure anaesthetics, insulin and equipment on the black market.’ Jian looked tired as he shrugged. ‘Doing the right thing sometimes means breaking rules.’

Romy clutched the baby and thought of Papa’s words in his study when she was fourteen and complaining about him breaking the law to treat people and secure drugs. It’s worth the risk. She remembered the young Jian she’d loved and her chest tightened with loss and confusion.

‘Please…’ He stopped and looked into her eyes. His were flooded with tears and he swallowed as he tried to speak. ‘I can’t talk about it here. It’s too dangerous.’ He tugged on her elbow, pulling her closer to him; to anyone observing it would look like a threat, but Romy knew the gesture was meant to be a small comfort.

As they walked, Jian asked, ‘Did you get my recipe from Captain Azuma? I was trying to tell you to stay strong. Not that you need it—you’ve always been strong.’ He looked up at the inky swirls in the sky.

The baby wriggled and coughed and Romy rubbed her back to ease the congestion that came with being born too early. She stopped and leaned against a wall to catch her breath. Jian wiped away a piece of hair, sticky with sweat, from her face. Romy closed her eyes and tried to digest the enormity of Li and Jian’s sacrifice as she felt the baby burrow into her chest.

The smell of frying noodles and shallot oil filled Romy’s nostrils, and her stomach lurched. When had she last eaten? Romy opened her eyes and stared at the old lady standing behind a pile of stacked bamboo baskets, the smell of steamed pork and mushroom dumplings making her mouth water. She wished they were not so expensive.

‘You’re too thin, Romy,’ said Jian, eyeing the coat hanging loose around her waist.

‘No thinner than anyone else,’ she snapped, embarrassed, as they weaved through the crowds, the baby’s head tucked under her chin as they turned into the crowd at the Chusan Road markets. The buildings on either side of the street were grand, with high arched windows, but paint peeled from the facades and washing hung from every balcony. Jewish men walked around in singlets, wet towels draped around their necks, while Chinese women held umbrellas to protect them from the glare of the sun.

The end stall had a motley collection of jars filled with cinnamon sticks, star anise, peach stones and several different types of dried green leaves.

‘Wait, let me get you some herbs.’

‘I’m fine. We need to get to the hospital.’

‘You need to stay well if you are to care for this baby,’ Jian said firmly, before talking rapidly to the woman tending the stall. She nodded and scooped tea-leaves, herbs and spices into a hessian bag for him. She waved Romy over and indicated that she should poke out her tongue.

Romy obeyed and the woman leaned in close with a nod and a ‘humph’, then added some sweet brown powder to the mixture.

As she hugged Li’s baby and took the scent of the spice mix deep into her lungs, Romy remembered all the times she’d laughed with Jian over mahjong in French Park as Li twirled around them through the peach blossoms. The acupuncture lessons at Dr Ho’s clinic, how Dr Ho had nurtured Mutti, and Wilma had given her back her spark. Their families overlapped so tightly…she loved them. She looked at Jian’s sad eyes and mourned what could never be—she gulped at the realisation of just how alone he’d been, what he’d had to endure. Still had to endure.

She understood why Li and Jian had cut her off, but it still hurt.

He reached out and placed his palm over her heart. ‘I know you loved her. And now you are mother to her child. Your heart is broken, when it needs to be strong.’ He peeled his palm away, leaving a burning sensation on her chest in its place. ‘You’re angry. Frightened.’ He nodded. ‘Your heart shen, your spirit, they are not at peace.’ His voiced softened as he gestured at the baby. ‘For you. And for the baby.’

He lifted the tablecloth and pointed at a sack hidden under the table; it was filled with glittering mother-of-pearl dust. ‘Zhen zhu mu,’ he said to the woman and she nodded, her thin hands adding angelica and foxglove—dang gui and shu di huang. She mixed the spices in a metal cup and added some boiling water, then handed it to Romy.

The brown liquid was salty and sour, and the grit clung to her teeth like coffee grinds.

‘This is revolting,’ Romy said with a grimace as she swallowed the lot in two gulps. The baby clucked and grizzled against her chest. ‘I need to get this baby to the hospital,’ she fretted. ‘She needs fluids. It’s so hot she’s in real danger.’

As they passed into the shadows, Romy pulled Li’s pendant from her pocket and offered it to Jian. It swung in the air between them, back and forth, offering forgiveness and understanding.

They were both too exhausted to speak.

Jian sighed and a tear slid down his cheek. He wiped it away with the back of his hand then said, ‘Keep it. Give it to Wilhelm. For—’ ‘Shu. Her name is Shu.’

‘Warm-hearted,’ he said as he met Romy’s eyes. ‘Li named her for you.’ He placed his hands over hers before continuing. ‘She was trying to protect you.’

Romy’s ears burned with shame and regret. She had to focus on the future. Here she was, holding Li’s baby. A baby she would do anything to protect.

Romy was sitting in a rocking chair in the hospital nursery trying to coax Shu’s mouth open with a rubber teat on a bottle of rice milk when Wilhelm appeared. He reached out and put one hand on her forearm; the other stroked Shu’s head.

He traced the baby’s nose and gently tapped her chin. When he looked at Romy, his eyes were filled with concern and regret.

‘She’s tiny. Is she…okay?’

‘She’s about four pounds. I can’t be sure of dates.’ Romy blushed before rushing on. ‘She’s much smaller than a full-term newborn.’ Romy was uncertain of what to say to reassure a new father. ‘But so many in these wards are—’ She stopped herself. There was no need to scare the man by explaining the poor diet.

Wilhelm said, ‘She’s perfect.’ He looked at Romy and said, ‘She looks like her mother,’ then dropped his head and sobbed for a full minute.

Romy felt his anguish and her eyes filled with tears. Li was gone. As Wilhelm sat, touching her arm, her grief felt tainted by the faintest hint of something sour—jealousy. She was still wounded by Wilhelm, but he’d always been kind to her.

Seeing Wilhelm stroke Li’s baby was bittersweet. Hiding her own heartbreak, she pasted a smile on her face.

‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘She does look like Li—especially these.’ Romy gently poked one of her dimples.

Wilhelm smiled too, though his eyes were empty. She would have to go back to the old herbalist in the corner of the market for a brew for him. Her body felt heavy with sorrow. She had missed Li for so long. They shared that much, at least.

‘I’m sorry, Wilhelm. I know you loved her.’

Wilhelm looked Romy in the eye and put his arm around her bony shoulders. ‘We both did.’

Romy pulled the bottle out of Shu’s lips and burped the baby over her shoulder.

‘Here. You nurse her.’ She gently showed him how to hold his daughter. He jiggled her awkwardly and her neck flopped sideways. He grimaced and looked at Romy for help.

‘Am I doing it right? I’ve never held a baby.’

The frosted door was closed, but through the glass panel she could see a familiar peaked cap. Jian. He was keeping watch.

The door opened and Jian entered, closing the door behind him.

‘Wilhelm. We need to leave.’

Romy looked from one man to the other, confused. Her heart started to race.

‘I—’ Wilhelm looked at his feet as if they were about to offer an explanation. His brown leather boots were cracked, the shoelaces mismatched string, and the sole on his left boot had peeled away at the toe.

‘We’ve arranged for his escape tonight.’

‘How?’ asked Romy in disbelief. The Japanese controlled Rangoon and Hong Kong. There was no way out of Shanghai.

‘He’ll go with my Chinese contacts up to into the hinterland of Chungking and over the mountains to Calcutta.’ Jian looked at Wilhelm before speaking directly to Romy. ‘Chang Wu has put a bounty on Wilhelm’s head. He needs to disappear; Shu stays.’

Of course, Romy realised; the baby was far too fragile to travel.

‘But how does Wu even know about Wilhelm? Li said you hadn’t seen her since—’

Wilhelm pressed his cheek to Shu’s head and closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes again and turned to Romy, his face looked haunted.

‘It’s true, I didn’t see Li. But Wu traced the bread deliveries I made weekly to her house in Frenchtown. There were no notes, of course. Just bread—Kaiser rolls and bread with Brotgewürz.’

The baby squirmed as Wilhelm awkwardly adjusted her against his chest. ‘But he’d already been suspicious after Japanese soldiers reported seeing us together at the Cathay—even though we were careful. He had lost face. That’s why I stopped taking the deliveries myself.’

Romy thought about the look the pair had exchanged at the Cathay when Li was on stage. If Romy had spotted it, who was to say others hadn’t?

Wilhelm continued, ‘But when Wu learned of the faulty grenades, he had a private meeting with the manager. That factory manager was fished out of the Yangtze last week.’

Bile burned the back of Romy’s throat.

Jian added, ‘When I was on patrol last night I heard that the manager had been tortured. He volunteered Wilhelm’s name. And then when the baby went missing…’

‘Wu just connected all the dots,’ Romy whispered. ‘They all led to Wilhelm.’ Romy looked at Jian, fearful. ‘What about you? Li was only with Wu to protect you. Now she’s gone…’

‘I’ll stay and continue to work as usual. I need to prove I knew nothing of the link between Li and Wilhelm,’ said Jian. He took a deep breath and went on, ‘People will be suspicious, watching me—and I will be watching them, trying to identify the traitors.’

Romy’s head started to spin as she tried to take it all in. ‘Where will you go?’ she asked Wilhelm as he returned the baby to her arms.

‘I’ll try for Britain or Australia,’ he said.

Romy shuddered. So far? ‘I’ll look after Shu and bring her to you,’ Romy blurted. ‘When she’s well enough to travel.’

Wilhelm raised his eyebrows and shook his head. ‘Romy, that’s too—’ ‘I’ll hide her from Chang Wu here at the hospital. We have so many orphans it will be easy. As soon as she’s well enough.’ Romy picked up the bottle, gave it a swirl to dislodge the bits at the bottom and started feeding her again.

She glanced sideways at Jian, who was studying her face with an inscrutable expression. Would he come too? But how could she ask him to leave China when his family had died fighting for it? He’d have to decide between his country and his niece.

Romy raised her eyes to the heavens. She’d long ago stopped believing in God, but she could do with some help if she was to keep this audacious promise. She’d do it for Wilhelm, because she loved him unconditionally. And for Li and the Hos, whom she carried deep in her soul.

Wilhelm choked back his tears as he smothered Romy and the baby in a hug. Romy could smell yeast, flour and cardamom on his skin and she held her breath. She’d yearned for his touch yet now it felt like a scalpel against her cheek.

‘Romy,’ he said with a tremor in his voice as he stroked her back. As her heart broke all over again Romy thought: This is enough. This love is enough.