Free The Love Beach by Leslie Thomas

government council, was Chungking Chinese in style, with elegant oriental curls to its many roofs, overlaid upon each other like multiple skirts. It was exquisitely festooned with golden dragons and fiery red dogs. Its exterior walls were whorled and worked with coloured patterns, its windows willow tree screens, and its front door powerful with immense posts and lintels like the entrance to a modest temple. Above the door were deeply engraved Mandarin characters.
    'This is the Dream House of Foo' translated Pollet for Davies and Conway. The Belgian had been in the outer island villages for two days selling medicines and collecting antiques, and, on returning to the South Seas Hilton, he had suggested they should go to the special assembly called by the British Governor.
    'A great big embarrassment for both the British and the French.' he continued as they walked with the crowd in the evening. 'But it's the only building, apart from maybe a warehouse, that is okay, big enough, you get it, for a meeting like this. Ah, the Condominium pretends the terrible thing isn't here. One meeting in the house of the British Governor and the next at the French Governor's place. That's how they work it. The town council ‑ well, they get together wherever they can. The British Legion club usually. This place is only used for big meetings, although maybe if a big epic film arrives on the boat and everyone is mad to see it they put it on here. Like Ben‑Hur.'
    'Who was Foo?' Davies asked.
    'An architect from Chungking,' said Pollet. 'Before the war he came here and said he would build this place very cheap, you understand, for the Condominium. He wanted to try out a new plan for a building in his home town and maybe he was not sure whether it would fall down. So he came here and he built this, like as a model. Of course the British and the French Colonial offices, tight with the money, shouted joyfully to have something for nearly nothing. They needed a meeting building and this Chinese thing is what they got.'
    Pollet giggled. 'Tonight I think you watch Sir William and M. Etienne. When they are here they pretend they are somewhere else. Theydo not see what is around them. It is the only matter upon which they have some accord. You see, they will stare straight ahead, pretending not to notice all those fire monsters hanging from the ceiling nor the scenes from everyday life in Chungking on the walls. Ha! They are both very ashamed.'
    Within the building the crowd was pushed together in a thick stream and directed at a dark shuffle down a low, carved corridor and then up a gilded staircase to a balcony curved and shaped in the manner of a Peking Palace swan. Attendants pointed out places. Pollet led Davies and Conway to three seats in the second row back, clear of the view blockage caused by the thick base of the swan's neck. Around them the seats were all being taken, women wearing hats and feathers and men hot in European suits.
    'Foo forgot the air conditioning,' said Conway. 'It's going to be close as hell in here before long.'
    'Stinking,' admitted Pollet. 'Always it is like this. I saw an epic film here ‑ Quo Vadis I remember, very good too ‑and every twenty minutes they had to open all the doors and the attendants came around with huge feather fans and swept them about above the patrons' heads. Maybe they do that tonight.'
    Davies looked over into the main well of the big room. The dais at one end was clear, but the rows of seats below were all occupied. He saw Bird wearing a sweet, blue dress at the end of the third row talking to a woman with red hair.
    Pollet said: 'The girl is called Bird. That is all the name she has, so they say. Just Bird. She has a coiffure establishment in the town.'
    Davies said: 'Yes, I know her. Met her on the beach. Down by the old invasion barges.'
    Conway and Pollet looked at Davies. But he was searching farther over into the hall. 'Looking for prospective customers,' he said, still leaning. Then, in