Page 9 of The Society of Unknowable Objects
He ran his eyes around the workroom as he waited for the coffee machine to finish its work, over the many drawers of machine parts and tools, the workbench that he tidied down every night, the watchmaker catalogues and manuals lined up in neat rows on the high shelf above the window. He loved his workroom. It was the place where he was most comfortable, even more so than his own home. Everything was ordered and tidy and made sense. It was the antithesis of magic.
When the coffee was ready, he opened the cupboard in the desk and took out a bottle of Baileys, tipping a capful into the drink and stirring it with a teaspoon. He didn’t always add Baileys to his coffee, only on days when he was feeling particularly unsettled. Then he took the coffee and walked through to the shop front, past the display cabinets and the collection of framed pocket watches on the wall—watches he had bought and repaired himself during quiet spells. He took a few minutes to stand at the window and observe the street. It was a cool, clear day and Marylebone was bustling, the brasserie across the road getting ready for the evening dinner crowd, the coffee shop with its students perched in the window staring at laptops. Everything was normal, predictable,routine.He liked that. Not like the Society. He shook his head and sipped the coffee.
“Maybe it would be best just to stop going,” he murmured to himself. He daydreamed about that possibility for a moment, being done with the whole thing. No more Society, no more magic, no more uncomfortable obligations. He nodded to himself as if a decision had been made,swallowed the final mouthful of coffee, and then returned to the back of the shop.
As he rinsed out his cup he thought about Magda. He felt bad for her. He liked Magda; she had always been kind to him, even though she was a bit hyperactive sometimes, and a bit bossy.
It was a shame she didn’t know the real reason that Henry no longer came to the Society meetings.
It was a shame she didn’t know that everything Frank had told them about the Society was a lie.
“Not my problem,” Will told himself, nodding as he dried his hands. He didn’t want to get involved.
Magda would find out for herself, sooner or later.
A Walk with Mr.Wei
In her suite in the Four Seasons Hotel on Hong Kong Island, Magda woke up after four hours of deep sleep feeling like it was time for bed. Jet lag was playing with her body clock, but her excitement was better than any alarm, and she jumped quickly to her feet and pulled open the curtains to take in the view of the city.
When she had first checked in, it had been midafternoon and the city had been gorgeous under a bright blue sky, with skyscrapers on all sides and boats in the green-blue harbour below her. But now, after sunset, Hong Kong was ablaze with light, flashing and pulsing like a pinball machine.
“Beautiful,” Magda murmured approvingly. She skipped to the bathroom, showered, washed her hair, and then made herself a coffee as she checked her emails and messages. Frank had been in touch while she had been asleep to confirm he had set up the meeting with James Wei—she was to meet him in front of the Peninsula Hotel in only an hour.
“Brilliant!” she exclaimed. She had been worried that she would be kicking her heels waiting for the meeting to be arranged. She pulled on a dark suit and an orange blouse that matched her hair, leaving it open at the neck to reveal the jade pendant necklace that she had inherited from her mother. Then she left the refreshing calmness of the hotel to make her way through the bustling, narrow streets towards the StarFerry terminal. On all sides impossibly tall buildings towered over her, and the thick, humid air was a constantly changing potpourri of pleasant and unpleasant aromas: cigarette smoke and expensive cologne, the mouthwatering scent of freshly cooked rice mixing with traffic fumes. Beautiful, well-dressed people bustled back and forth, making Magda feel short and dumpy and underdressed, and the world was noisy with chatter and car engines and the jackhammering of the signals at pedestrian crossings. Magda found her senses assaulted and disoriented and it felt as if the city had been purposefully designed to be uncomfortable to newcomers. She tugged on her blouse as she walked, aware of the sweat on her back and seeing how flushed her normally pale cheeks were in every window she passed.
“Not made for this weather,” she muttered, but she realised she was smiling. As discombobulating as this walk was, she was thrilling in it, loving being alive and heading to a meeting to talk about magic, even as Frank’s words of caution returned to her.
“You’ve got to be careful,” he had said in a call before she had left for the airport the previous day. “This James Weiseemsaboveboard, but we don’t know anything about him.”
“Yes, Frank,” she had said. “It’s nice that you worry, but I’m not a child. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“Don’t take any risks,” Frank had continued, ignoring her words. “Watch out for any signs of danger.”
She had smiled indulgently at his worry, shrugging off his caution, but now, in the thronged streets of Hong Kong, with the noises and sights assaulting her senses and jet lag muffling her thoughts, Magda found herself unexpectedly on edge. She tried to shake it off as she walked, grabbing hold of her excitement about the mission almost as if it were a totem against bad luck.
She found her way to the Star Ferry terminal and spent a few moments working out how to purchase a ticket to Tsim Sha Tsui on the Kowloon side of the harbour. When the ferry arrived she followed the small crowd of locals up the ramp into the vessel and then climbed to the open deck. The short crossing gave her a chance to gaze back at Hong Kong Island, the mighty commercial buildings and the manytower blocks scaling the hill behind them, Victoria Peak high above it all. Magda flushed with happiness as she took in the view. The jet lag remained a fuzziness in her mind, but the cool breeze blew away her earlier unease. She found herself daydreaming, imagining mysterious people meeting on the ferry and exchanging secrets, and she started to wonder who these people were. This was the beginning of a new novel, she knew, and she decided in that moment that Hong Kong would be the setting for the next thing she wrote, whatever that was. She had been waiting for her next idea for almost six months, having nothing to write since finishing her last novel. It felt somehow appropriate that this adventure, this meeting about magic and her excitement, would feed her creativity.
“Something in Hong Kong,” she told herself with a nod, fixing her eyes on the view and studying the details. She watched an old-fashioned junk boat with scarlet-coloured sails cut a perpendicular path across the wake of the ferry, and she could hear the noisy chatter of the guests on that boat. She would make notes later, she decided, after the meeting, trying to capture the atmosphere and how she felt. Whatever she wrote next would open in Hong Kong, maybe on the very ferry where she now stood.
On Kowloon, Magda walked the short distance to the Peninsula Hotel, starting to feel like every step through the thick air was a slog. The drive in front of the hotel was bustling with guests and passersby, taxis dropping off and picking up, staff in crisp green suits and white gloves scurrying about busily. Her gaze bounced from person to person, trying to identify James Wei. Then she saw a face above the crowd, a man peering over the heads of the others around him, his eyes moving as if searching for something, passing over Magda and then flicking back. She saw his expression change, the uncertainty clear as he fixed his gaze upon her, and then he smiled broadly and lifted a hand to wave energetically. He was a tall man, neatly presented in a grey suit and a crisp white shirt, with lightly tanned skin and thick black hair in a wave on top of his head. He had broad shoulders and sharp cheekbones, and the neat bulk of a man who worked out regularly but not to excess. As hecontinued waving at her, as if worried that she hadn’t seen him, Magda decided that he was handsome.
“Ms.Sparks?” he asked, as she finally reached him.
“Mr.Wei?” she asked in return, gazing up at him. He was over a foot taller than her.
They simultaneously offered their hands, bumping fingers and rearranging arms in an awkward moment of smiles and apologies.
“Nice to meet you!” he said, when they finally managed to shake, his voice a smooth baritone. “Please call me James.”
“Okay, James,” she said, feeling sure she was blushing as he smiled at her but not sure why. “Then you must call me Magda.”
He bobbed his head neatly, accepting that. Magda felt herself relaxing almost immediately. There was nothing about this man that set her on edge, nothing that made her wary. She could almost imagine Frank scowling at her naivety.
“Now,” James said, clapping his hands together. “You have a choice. We can go in here and have refined food in a very elegant environment.”
Magda eyed the interior of the Peninsula Hotel behind James. “Or?”
“Or I could take you somewhere noisy and authentic that serves the best noodles you’ve ever had.”
