But enjoying his life was about the last thing on Klim’s mind at that moment. He became taciturn and sullen, and every day after the letters were delivered, he would turn his face to the wall and refuse to talk.

Fernando knew that Klim was waiting for a letter from his wife, but didn’t dare tell him that there would be no answer. He was good at counting but had no head for writing, and his message to Nina had been returned to sender with its misspelled address circled and underlined. Every day Fernando promised himself that he would ask Klim to rewrite the address correctly, but every day he would “forget” out of embarrassment.

In the meantime, the country was hit by a whirlwind of unexpected events. Sun Yat-sen died of liver cancer, and his adjutants began to argue about who would be his successor. The Kuomintang split into two wings: the Leftists gravitated towards an alliance with the Bolsheviks and the Chinese communists, while the Rights headed by General Chiang Kai-shek preferred to avoid changing one kind of foreign “patron” for another.

For Klim, these were matters of complete indifference.

“Is there any news from Shanghai?” he would ask absentmindedly each time Fernando started talking about politics.

However, the Don would pretend that he hadn’t properly understood what Klim was really asking about.

“The city fathers want to prohibit child labor, to put up the fees for petty traders, and increase censorship in the Chinese press,” Fernando said. “The students are protesting and fighting with the police every day, so we’re pretty lucky to be out of that vipers’ nest. I think we should stay in Canton and turn over a new leaf. We’ll re-fit the Santa Maria and become honest fishermen. I hear there’s a good trade to be had in octopuses.”

But Klim was determined to return to Shanghai.

“What am I going do with him?” the Don complained to the Holy Virgin. “If I don’t take him to Shanghai, he’ll get into some rust bucket, pick up an infection from the other stowaways, and end up dying on me. You’ve seen him—he’s just a bag of skin and bones. Without me, he’ll be a goner for sure.”

Fernando was constantly crossing himself and blowing kisses to the ceiling, but the Holy Virgin didn’t answer his entreaties.

“All right, amigo, you win: I’ll go with you to Shanghai,” the Don decided. “But I warn you, don’t expect my piety to last forever when we get there.”

2

At dawn, as arranged, Daniel drove up to the House of Hope and signaled three times with his car horn. A minute later, Ada appeared at the gate and flopped down on the front seat next to him. “Good morning, sir!”

It was impossible to look at her without an indulgent smile. She had no taste or appreciation of her youthful charm and was doing her best to imitate some showy movie actress. Her eyebrows had been plucked into two thin lines, her lips had been rouged with a stationery pencil, and a pink satin bow hung around her neck. Daniel recognized it from a gift box that some of Edna’s friends had given to his wife.

Ada took a lollypop from her pocket and put it into her mouth. The air in the car began to smell of mint: a prudent girl, Ada was evidently making sure that she’d be prepared should Daniel surprise her with a kiss.

“Where are we going?” Ada asked.

“You’ll see.”

Despite the early hour, the streets were full of Chinese students in their traditional long-skirted coats. Some were carrying folded banners, while others were putting up posters. Many were gathered at the peddlers’ kitchens, discussing something excitedly.

Daniel drove into a narrow street, which was bordered on one side by a neat hedge and the other by rows of Chinese houses with their tiled roofs.

Ada spied a taut canvas wing through a gap in the hedge and almost jumped out of her seat. “Goodness me, it’s an airfield! Are you going to show me an airplane?”

“I’m going to do a lot more than show you one,” Daniel said.

He drove the car up to a gate made of thin bamboo stems bound with wire. The guard ceremoniously opened it for them, and the car drove along the airfield, the gravel crunching under its wheels.

Ada’s eyes nearly popped out of her head looking at the airplanes.

“Can we go a bit closer? Oh, I wish we could have our photograph taken here.”

“We can arrange that later,” Daniel said with a smile. “Today we’re going to fly to Suzhou.”

“What?” Ada was lost for words. “We will… I mean—”

Daniel got out of the car and took her to a hangar.

“Are you sure this is going to be safe?” Ada said in a weak voice. “What if your airplane falls out of the sky? What if we get lost?”

She was overwhelmed by a combination of fear, mistrust, and excitement.

“Oh, you’re probably just teasing me,” she complained, forgetting herself. “How could you be so mean?”

The technicians removed the canvas cover from the Avro and wheeled it out onto the runway. Daniel helped Ada put on a helmet and a warm leather jacket—it would be cold up there in the heavens.

“I reckon I must look like a dragonfly.” She giggled nervously as she adjusted her goggles.

“You do,” Daniel replied bluntly and pointed to the back seat of the airplane. “Now get in.”

He helped her into the cabin, sat down in the pilot’s seat, and gave the orders for the engine to be started. The Avro coughed into life, bumping precariously along the airfield until finally with a mighty roar it soared into the sky.

“A-ah-ah!” Ada squealed excitedly.

Daniel made a turn and flew over the city, spotted with the shadows of the clouds. Its rivers stretched like rolls of exposed camera film glittering in the sun and its buildings like a set of multi-colored domino pieces that has been scattered over the ground by a fractious child.

As was his custom, Daniel flew over Nina’s house, but this time he imagined he was dropping an invisible bomb that would destroy her past with all its bad memories.

“Don’t worry darling,” he whispered. “I’ll arrange everything. You’ll never need to worry again.”

3

When they reached Suzhou, a city of humpback bridges and weeping willows, Daniel took Ada for a boat ride along the narrow canals that had been built the previous millennium.

The swarthy young boatman rowed slowly but deftly, each stroke of his oar creating small eddies in their wake.

The steps of the whitewashed homes ran down from the doors to the water’s edge where carved, age-darkened boats were moored next to the banks. Children’s voices and women’s laughter wafted down from the open windows.

Weak with excitement, Ada was sitting in the prow near Daniel, his wrapped gifts at her feet—a silk robe, a hand mirror, and an embroidered fan which they had bought in a little shop on their way.

“This city is two and a half thousand years old,” Daniel mused. “The same age as Confucius. Once Suzhou was the capital of the state of Wu, praised for its silk and beautiful women.”

“Like her?” Ada smiled, glancing at a fat woman rinsing linen in the canal. “What sort of woman do you go for?”

He motioned towards Ada’s reflection in the water, “I’m into this type. You know there is a piece of poetry:

Soft lilac twilight. I’m alone,

As I watch paper lanterns in the sky.

Again I’ll stay awake till dawn

Observing boats go gliding by.

I wish for temple bells to sing you songs

About my heart so full, so high.”

“I know what you’re implying,” Ada said, frowning, “but you’re not going to leave your wife and business because of me. You’ve got too much to lose.”

“One day you’ll understand that this can all be easily exchanged for—”

“Would you even exchange it for your airplane?”

“If you want, I can give it to you,” he said after a pause. “Did you never want to learn how to fly in your childhood? Let’s make that dream come true.”

The idea was so ridiculous that Ada just shrugged. “Oh, stop it! You’re making fun of me.”

“I’ll make a gift deed out in your favor—now. The only thing I’m asking is for you to await my return. I’ll be going on a business trip soon, and it will last for a few months.”

Ada blinked in confusion. “You’re either one heck of a liar or you’re completely mad.”

“I’ve gone completely mad and I’m very happy about it.”

Ada was sure that he’d been joking until they went to a Chinese official and she received a document testifying that she was now the proud owner of an Avro 504.

4

Daniel persuaded Ada that it would be better to leave the airplane in Suzhou to keep their adventure a secret from Edna, and they hired a car to return to Shanghai.

“Mr. Bernard, I can’t handle it,” Ada said. “You keep doing good things for me, and I don’t even know how I can pay you back.”

Daniel smiled. “Don’t worry about that.”

They entered the city and drove along the Babbling Well Road, but as they went around the race track, the traffic ground to a halt because a crowd of students was blocking the Nanking Road. Drivers honked, rickshaw boys swore, but the young people didn’t pay them the slightest attention, shouting their political slogans in one voice.

“What do they want?” Ada asked Daniel.

“Equality, justice, and the abolition of laws that worsen the living conditions for the poor,” he said.

Daniel paid the driver and got out of the car.

“Let’s go, Ada, or we’ll be stuck here for a long time.”

She followed him between the honking cars, holding the package with her gifts tight to her chest.