Red Phoenix

any of the flashing mobile phone accessories. She bought some small cheap toys for her nieces and nephews, but didn’t want any laser pointers. She hurried Simone past the stall selling luridly coloured sex toys and the stall with the suspicious-looking movies. But she stopped at a stall selling ties.
    Leo stood behind us, folded his arms and glowered. A magic space appeared around us as people avoided him. He was having a great time.
    Charlie selected a number of outrageously inappropriate ties from the hangers.
    ‘Who are they for?’ I said. ‘Check the illustrations before you buy them—some are really crude and offensive.’
    ‘I know exactly what I’m doing,’ Charlie said with a small, evil smile. ‘I have a cousin in his late twenties. He loves these disgusting ties and always asks me to buy some for him when I’m here.’
    ‘Typical.’
    Michael looked unhappy, but remained completely professional as he helped Simone at the stall across the road. She bought two Hello Kitty bags, three T-shirts and a pair of Hello Kitty sunglasses, every single item pink. He helped her with the bargaining and then returned her to us.
    Leo and I shared a look. He was impressed with Michael too.
    At the end of the market we moved from the middle to the side of the street, between the back of the stalls and the closed shopfronts. There were fewer people and we could walk back to the car in relative peace.
    We stopped to buy some Pocari Sweat at a small shop selling drinks.
    ‘It’s not bad,’ Charlie said. ‘Lemony.’
    ‘It’s horrible if it’s not cold,’ Simone said.
    ‘I wonder if I can buy it in London.’
    ‘Overseas it’s just called Pocari, they leave out the Sweat,’ I said. ‘You can probably buy it in Chinatown.’
    ‘But I won’t need it nearly as much back home,’ Charlie said.
    We walked further and reached a dai pai dong, a small open-air restaurant specialising in fresh seafood.The restaurant had a number of flimsy folding tables on the pavement displaying plates of live seafood.
    Charlie was fascinated. ‘What are those?’ she said, pointing at some shellfish that had six legs and large spiked claws. They were a pale creamy colour, with large abdomens and unusual triangular-shaped heads. Most were about ten centimetres long, but big ones were double that size.
    Michael opened his mouth to answer but I stopped him with a raised hand. ‘They’re mantis prawns.’
    ‘That’s quite appropriate for them, really,’ Charlie said. ‘With those front claws and the heads like that, they do look like praying mantises.’ She saw Michael’s face. ‘What?’
    ‘Oh, go on, Michael,’ I said. ‘I can see you’re dying to tell her.’
    Michael leaned closer to Charlie. ‘In Cantonese they’re called “pissing prawns”,’ he said with quiet satisfaction.
    Charlie’s eyes went wide with delight. ‘No, really?’ She grinned broadly. ‘Why on earth are they called that?’
    ‘I have no idea,’ Michael said with a shrug, and suddenly he was the image of his father.
    The car park shroff office was right next to the public toilets and the smell was still bad, so Leo sent us on ahead while he paid the ticket.
    The lift lurched to a stop at the seventh floor, and Simone squeaked again and grabbed my hand. Michael made a soft sound of disdain.
    The seventh floor was almost deserted; most of the shoppers had already gone home. Our car was one of only three left on the floor and the other two had a thick layer of dust on them, apparently abandoned.
    I unlocked the car using the remote. ‘I’ll start the engine, Charlie, and run the air con so you can sit in there and cool off.’
    ‘Thanks, Emma,’ Charlie said, her voice weak.
    Michael grabbed her shopping bag off her and she didn’t protest.
    ‘You should have said something,’ I said.
    ‘We’re finished anyway.’
    Just as we reached the car I heard a shout and turned. A large group of young Chinese men charged around the corner of the car park towards us. Most of them were shirtless and covered with elaborate tattoos. Many had dyed hair, blond and red. They all carried machetes and choppers, the weapons of choice for Hong Kong gangsters.
    ‘Why didn’t you tell me, Simone?’ I hissed. I quickly unlocked the boot of the car and pulled out my sword, pleased that I’d thought to bring it. I took the white Japanese blade as well and turned to throw it to Michael, then I saw his face.
    Simone stood completely still, her eyes