Remember by Barbara Taylor Bradford

the shelter of the trees and returned to Tiananmen Square.
    When they reached the square, Nicky was struck by the curious calm pervading it. The atmosphere seemed peaceful but weirdly so.
    They slackened their pace and continued up to the Martyrs’ Monument.
    Some of the press corps had returned and were gathered there. From the expressions on their faces she could see they were as distressed as she and Arch were by what they had witnessed on Changan.
    Yoyo and Mai were standing nearby talking with a small group of students. Nicky went over to them and drew them away from their friends.
    “There’s so much bloodshed out there, I don’t know what to say, but I know what you must do,” Nicky said tersely. Fishing around in her bag, she found the envelope of money and thrust it into Yoyo’s hands. “You must take this, Yoyo.”
    Yoyo stared at her. “But Clee say he buy tickets—” “Don’t argue, Yoyo, take it,” Nicky said. “Tomorrow’s going to be worse than tonight, and I’ll feel better, knowing you have the money on you. If anything happens and we get separated, or if we have to leave Beijing without you, get yourselves to Hong Kong.
    We’ll be at the Mandarin Hotel. You’ll find us there.”
    Yoyo nodded and put the envelope in his trouser pocket. “Thank you,” he said. “I understand. I have passport. Mai have passport.
    Everything be okay, Nicky.”
    “I hope so.” Nicky glanced around her and then brought her gaze back to Yoyo. “What’s been happening in the square?”
    “Not much. Very quiet. Wuer Kaixi speak. Say this government oppose the people. Say Chinese must sacrifice themselves. For beautiful tomorrow.”
    Nicky shook her head. “The students must not show resistance to the soldiers. If you stay, you must be peaceful.”
    He nodded. “I understand. Chai Ling say this.”
    “Did she speak also?”
    “Yes. She say this peaceful sit-in. Tell students stay seated. No resist army.”
     
    Nicky stared hard at Yoyo, then said, “Listen to me, Yoyo, these troops are not young like the others yesterday. They are hardened veterans.”
    “Maybe Twenty-seventh Army. They tough. Bad. We be okay, Nicky.
    Don’t worry.”
    “But I do worry,” she said under her breath.
    “People from Workers’ Federation here. They come protect students,” Yoyo explained.
    “I can’t help wishing you’d protect yourselves by leaving,” Nicky said, but she knew Yoyo and Mai would stay until the end, even though he fully understood they were in peril, if Mai didn’t.
    They were naive in many ways, like most of the kids in the square.
    Clee came hurrying up to them looking disheveled.
    “It’s horrendous…. there are no words, really …” he said.
    She touched the camera hanging round his neck. “Still undamaged, I see.”
    “They’re too busy shooting unarmed people to be bothered about a camera!”
    Arch walked over, and putting his arm around Nicky’s shoulders, he said, “Jimmy and Luke are going back to the hotel for a while.
    Go with them, Nick. You’ve been out here for hours.”
    “I think I will,” she answered. “I want to make some notes for my broadcast anyway, and prepare my opening. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
    “Take your time,” Arch replied. “I can guarantee you this little shindig is going to last all night.”
    Nicky was in and out of Tiananmen for the next few hours, as were most of the foreign press corps.
    The areas surrounding the square were a mess. Soldiers were everywhere and the crowds had not diminished. In fact, it seemed to Nicky that they had increased. Overturned vehicles and abandoned bicycles littered Changan Avenue, and an even bigger number of fires were flaring up as the grief-stricken and angry residents continued to torch tanks and armored personnel carriers.
    In the immediate vicinity of the Beijing Hotel the scene was chaotic.
    The wounded, dying and dead were piling up, and distraught and weeping Beijingers, many of them covered in