The Scottish Banker of Surabaya - By Ian Hamilton Page 0,3

bak mei drills in slow motion, as she had been taught. Only a handful of people in Canada practised this martial art. It was taught one-on-one, traditionally passed down from father to son, or in her case from teacher to student. It wasn’t pretty to watch but it was effective, designed to inflict the maximum possible damage. Ava had become adept at it.

“Ava, do you mind if I join you?”

The voice startled her. She looked up and saw her mother standing to one side with two cups in her hands.

“I made you another coffee,” Jennie Lee said.

“Thanks. I’m surprised to see you up this early.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Is something bothering you?”

Jennie passed a coffee to her daughter and then sat in the other Muskoka chair, ignoring its dampness, her eyes fixed on the lake. “I need a favour,” she said.

Jennie was close to sixty years old, but even without makeup and with her face lit by the morning sun, she looked like a woman in her forties. “What is it?” Ava said.

“I’d like you to drive me to the casino at three o’clock.”

“That’s early, Mummy. Maria doesn’t get in until five thirty.”

“I know, but I need you to talk to someone there.”

“Who?”

“Theresa Ng.”

“Who is Theresa Ng?”

Jennie Lee took a pack of du Maurier extra-mild king-size cigarettes from her housecoat pocket, lit one, and blew smoke towards the lake. “She is a baccarat dealer at Rama.”

“Why would I talk to a baccarat dealer?”

“She has a problem.”

“I’m not a counsellor.”

Jennie took two more long puffs and then threw the cigarette to the ground. “She has a money problem.”

“How do you know that?”

“I asked her why she looked so troubled.”

Ava knew that her mother made friends as easily as other people changed clothes. There wasn’t a store she went into or a restaurant she ate at where she didn’t ask the server or the sales associate what their name was and how they were doing.

“How does this involve me?” Ava said.

Jennie leaned her head against the back of the chair and then slowly turned towards her daughter. “Just because I never talk to you about what you do for a living doesn’t mean I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I’ve always had suspicions that you didn’t make all that money you have by being a good accountant. I also found it strange that you work with Uncle, but I ignored all the rumours about his Triad connections by telling myself he’s an old man who’s moved on to other things. But any doubts I had were put to rest after you went to Hong Kong and Macau and saved Michael’s partner’s life, and their business.”

“Michael wasn’t in Macau.”

“Ava, please don’t treat me as if I’m an idiot or can’t handle the truth.”

Ava sipped her coffee and stared out at the water, which was dotted with people quietly fishing from canoes and small boats. The jet skiers usually invaded the lake after lunch and then departed before dinner, leaving the lake to the fishermen again until dusk. “Macau was hard on me emotionally as well as physically,” she said. “I don’t like talking about it.”

“Other people in the family, including Michael, have done enough talking for everyone to know what happened.”

“And I’m sure it’s been exaggerated.”

“What, you didn’t save the partner and the business?”

“I had help.”

Jennie waved her hand dismissively. “You led; we all know you did. When your father heard the story, he couldn’t handle his emotions. It was the first time I’ve seen him cry. And then I cried, because I knew you had not only saved Michael, you had saved the entire family. If you hadn’t recovered all that money, your father would have emptied his bank accounts to cover Michael’s losses. And then where would we be? His years of labour gone, and my security and that of the other wives and children completely at risk.”

“I did what I had to do.”

“You mean you did what you chose to do, and that’s why I’m so proud. When I was raising you and Marian, that was my prayer — that my girls would become women capable of being true to themselves.”

“Some days that’s harder to do than others,” Ava said. “When it is, I often think of you and how you have persevered.”

“Ava, you don’t have to —”

“I’m not. I mean it.”

“Well, it’s true that my relationship with your father has tested me. When I married him, I knew what I was getting into: the second wife of a man who wouldn’t leave his