Page 10 of The Society of Unknowable Objects
Magda pointed at him and grinned. “That sounds better.”
“Fabulous! I was hoping you would say that.” He reciprocated her grin. “Do you mind a walk? Fifteen minutes through this awful humidity?”
Magda waved away his concern with a flap of her hand. “I don’t mind the heat and I don’t mind a walk,” she said, one lie and one truth.
“Alright, then!” James exclaimed. “Let’s be on our way!”
James led her through the streets of Kowloon, travelling north from the Peninsula Hotel along Nathan Road. The air here was still humid and warm, and Magda felt the sweat gathering on her back once more, but the streets were far less tightly packed than on Hong Kong Island, the buildings more spaced out. Buses and taxies thronged Nathan Road, and behind the lights that punched electric holes in the dark night, Magda saw the ugly, grimy facades of the postwar buildings liningthe street, the truth behind the dazzling show. Every block or so they passed smartly dressed Indian men who tried to speak to James about tailor-made suits, holding out business cards to get his attention, and James repeatedly had to wave them off.
“It’s a challenging place to live,” James admitted as they walked. “But sometimes living in a challenging place is good for you.”
“That sounds like one of those things that makes sense unless you actually stop to think about it,” Magda said, as she hurried to keep up with him.
James laughed and looked at her, and she saw him realise for the first time that he was walking too fast.
“Sorry, long legs,” he admitted, immediately slowing his pace.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got short little legs.” She grinned at him. “I’m used to it.”
They passed one of the entrances to Tsim Sha Tsui subway station and fresh, cool air from inside brushed over Magda’s face, a moment of bliss in the unforgiving humidity. Just beyond was a flight of steps leading up to a leafy, quiet park, and James pointed that way. “Kowloon Park. Come on, we will cut through here.”
“Is it busy in there?” Magda asked. “I’d prefer to stay in public places.” She smiled apologetically, trying to reassure him that she didn’t really think he was dangerous. “Just being overly cautious.”
James’s eyebrows lifted in realisation. “Oh!” he said. “Yes, it’s a busy park. Lots of people around. You are just as safe in there as out here, but you might be a little cooler. I thought you might prefer it. But we can stick to the street if you prefer. Your choice!”
He waited for her to make a decision.
You’re being stupid. You’re letting Frank’s worries infect you. There is nothing wrong with this man... how often does a handsome man want to take you for a walk in a park, Magda?
“The cooler park sounds very appealing,” she said, shoving Frank’s concerns to the back of her mind. “After you.”
At the top of the steps, there was a broad brick path through the trees. The way was lit by streetlamps, circles of white light alternating with pools of darkness and leafy shadows shimmering on the ground.The smell of damp undergrowth and greenery filled Magda’s nose, and the night was alive with the clicking and chittering of insects, the noise of the traffic a low ever-present bass note in the background.
“Where are we going?” Magda asked.
“Just a few blocks north,” James explained. “Near Temple Street Night Market. It’s a part of Kowloon the tourists come to, but it also has some of the best food. Much more authentic than anything you’ll get at the Peninsula.” A thought appeared to strike him then and he paused to give her a sideways look. “You eat noodles, right?”
“I eat most things,” Magda admitted, glancing around and monitoring their surroundings. “Often in big portions.” She grinned at him again.
“Ha!” James barked in delight. “I am glad to hear it. I love eating. It’s one of my favourite things.”
Magda nodded approvingly. “You and I are probably going to get along well.”
“I think it comes from not eating much when I was a child,” James continued. “I wasn’t very well for much of my childhood.”
“Oh?” she asked, concerned.
He waved a hand, dismissing her worry, and then ducked his head under a tree branch hanging low over the path. “All in the past, I’m fine now. But I spent most of my childhood in bed and surviving on chicken noodle soup. My mother believed chicken noodle soup would cure all ailments.”
“Funny,” Magda reflected. “I think the same thing about cake.”
They laughed together at her comment. Magda enjoyed that she was making him laugh, and that he seemed to laugh easily, as if life was to be enjoyed rather than endured.
She scanned her surroundings again, thick, wiry grass stretching away to darkness beyond the trees, the lights of tall buildings in the distance. The sound of their footsteps filled the lull in conversation, and when Magda looked at James again, she could see that he had slipped into his own thoughts, his eyes losing focus. “You okay?”
He smiled at her. “Oh, just remembering being a child,” he admitted.
“When you were ill?”
