The Shanghai Wife

by Emma Harcourt

  Her ankle throbbed and her palms stung. It was hard to breathe. Through the maze of legs she saw the policeman haul the thief up. Then someone was shouting above her and pushing people back. Arms reached down and lifted her shoulders.

  She looked into the grinning face of a local boy. He was only about twelve years old yet he had the strength of a man. She instinctively pulled away from him, and the boy instantly dropped his hold and held his hands up to show he meant no harm. He smiled and nodded at her scared expression, revealing an awkward smile; his front teeth were tightly packed together by the couple either side. Beyond that it was all pale and lumpy gum. Annie stumbled and winced with the pain of her ankle and the boy offered her his arm to lean on. She realised she needed his help. He pointed to the Happy Joy Tearoom across the road from the Bund.

  ‘Yes, thank you. That’s a good idea.’ He looked at her blankly so she nodded instead.

  A group of young men passed noisily close and Annie felt herself stiffen; she leant into the boy heavily and pulled her hat further down. He patted her arm proudly, as though he were escorting her to a ball, not across the road. His fingernails were dark with dirt.

  The Bund was crowded now. Children scampered in between foreign tourists in their cream panama suits and labourers pushing wheelbarrows. Rickshaw drivers touted for business or squatted beside their vehicles. The smell of salty water mixed with ocean diesel. A man jostled through the crowds, trying to keep his produce from spilling out of the buckets balanced at either end of a wooden pole weighted behind his shoulders. The constant noise of car horns and bicycle bells throbbed in Annie’s ears.

  A traffic warden blew his whistle sharply as a tram rumbled past. The boy helped Annie across the metal tramlines which gleamed in the heat. But the street’s noise shut off the moment the door of the tearoom closed. As she looked around, the tightness in Annie’s shoulders eased. The tables and chairs were all a dark chocolate brown colour, ornately carved, with red and gold silk covers. The boy hovered by the door. Annie pulled out a chair from an empty table and sat heavily. She was in too much pain to wait for propriety.

  ‘Madaahm, Mrs Brand, here, here. Hello.’

  Annie looked across the room. Chow was sitting alone, waving to her. He wore the loose-fitting, wide-legged trousers and cropped shirt of his countrymen. He walked over quickly.

  ‘You are hurt?’ He looked from her to the boy and raised his eyebrows.

  The boy spoke quickly. Annie couldn’t understand what he said but Chow remained quiet for a few minutes. Annie rubbed her ankle.

  ‘You have had quite an afternoon of excitement I hear? Just as well this young man was able to assist you.’

  ‘I know you said not to walk on my own, Chow, but I took the main road and it is broad daylight. This was just unfortunate timing. The man was a common thief, probably stealing to feed his family; nothing more sinister or dangerous.’

  Chow’s forehead creased in a frown. ‘How does your ankle feel now?’

  ‘It’s sore, but it will be fine once I get home and rest. I would like to thank this boy for helping me, but he doesn’t speak English. Can you tell him how grateful I am?’

  ‘This is someone I know, in fact. His name is Li Qiang and he recently started in the kitchens at the Club. He says he recognised you.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve seen him before?’

  ‘But he has seen you. He likes to spy on the guests sometimes, looking through doors when no one will notice him. It’s a silly exercise which I am constantly reprimanding him for, but I understand his fascination with the clothes and glamour of the foreign ladies.’

  ‘How can I thank him properly? What do you suggest?’

  ‘He would be grateful for a few coppers.’

  Annie shook the boy’s hand and gave him the money. He seemed unperturbed by the attention his presence was receiving. Faces turned to look at the foreign woman with the two Chinamen. A few ladies frowned at Annie. It made her skin bristle with indignation.

  The boy had turned to leave and Chow was following him out. How wrong it seemed. Annie quickly followed Chow and tapped him on the shoulder.

  ‘Would you stay and have tea with me?’

  ‘I already have a table inside, Mrs Brand. I was just walking Li Qiang out. But I would be honoured if you would join me?’ He chuckled softly.

  ‘Well, now. Thank you, Chow. I would be delighted.’ Annie hobbled over to where Chow held a chair back for her.

  ‘I am here to try a new tea. It is a mixture of English and a local variety, mild but perfumed. I have been asked for it at the Club by the ladies. I heard that this tearoom is serving the blend.’

  As he spoke a waiter placed a small stoneware teapot on the table in front of Chow, with a single teacup. Chow said something quietly and the man disappeared, returning minutes later with a second teacup.

  ‘Does the blend meet Club standards?’ Annie asked.

  ‘It must meet my standards first and I am undecided. Won’t you tell me what you think?’ Chow poured some tea into a cup for Annie and held it out for her to take. She sipped self-consciously.

  ‘It is like drinking bubble bath—not to my taste at all!’ She grimaced dramatically and laughed. Chow leant over his teacup and breathed in the steam a moment, wafting it to him with his hands. Then he raised the cup to his lips and drank. ‘The flavour is delicate and hovers in my throat a moment. It is not too strong; I taste the perfume in the drenched leaves.’ He nodded to Annie.

  ‘Now, close your eyes and taste again.’

  Even though Annie felt a little foolish she took up the teacup again and closed her eyes.

  ‘Let the tea’s steam wet your nostrils before you drink, the flavour is in the smell.’

  Annie breathed in deeply. ‘Yes, I smell rose buds, no … liquorice.’

  ‘Now, drink.’ Annie’s eyes were still closed and even though she knew Chow was sitting on the opposite side of the table, his voice sounded so soft and close she felt the skin on her forearms tingle. She sipped and the hot tea infused her mouth. She blinked and smiled.

  ‘Mmm, better, I like it.’

  Chow sat back, satisfied. ‘Then it is decided. I will purchase the blend for the Club.’

  ‘You are very dedicated to your job.’

  ‘It is serving tea, Mrs Brand. That is all.’

  They both laughed. Annie was aware the table of women from the Club seated nearby were staring. She saw them lean in and share a whispered exchange. They were probably shocked; Mrs Alec Brand, taking tea with a Chink.

  ‘Would you like a top-up?’ Annie smiled at Chow as she leant over and rested her hand on his arm briefly before sliding his teacup towards her. Her hand shook slightly as she poured.

  ‘I’m sorry, Chow; the morning has unravelled me more than I expected.’

  ‘Please, Mrs Brand, you have no need to apologise.’

  ‘I saw so many police and barricades when I was walking this morning. Do we really need that much protection?’

  ‘Since the trial of the students I’ve seen many anti-foreign posters and pamphlets floating about. I do not know what will happen but if there are extra police on the streets then it might discourage protests.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve seen one of these posters. Do the Chinese really call us foreign devils?’ Annie bit her lip as Chow’s expression darkened.

  ‘Yes, and with good reason. If you had been here when the first foreigners arrived and seen the travesty of our exploitation you might understand why we use the term.’

  ‘You hate us?’

  ‘Hate is a very strong word.’

  ‘Then how would you describe it, Chow?’

  ‘I believe that it is easier to control by force than agreement.’

  ‘So you do hate us?’

  Chow shook his head. ‘I also believe we are all just citizens. The demonstration at the factory last week was only peaceful students rallying for better wages for their fellow countrymen, for a better China. Yet the police dea
lt with the poor chaps as though they were a violent mob. Chinese politics does not have to be the beginning of something terrible. What if it is the end of something wrong instead?’ They sat in silence.

  Chow took a sip of tea, taking his time to replace the cup on its gold-rimmed saucer, and when he looked up at Annie he was smiling again. She watched him. Such incendiary talk by a Chinaman was considered criminal and Chow could lose his job, yet here he was talking candidly to her.

  ‘I know there’s a lot I don’t understand about your city and the local politics, but I do want to learn. I’m not like those women over there,’ she raised her eyebrows and nodded in the direction of the table of Club ladies. ‘Every morning when I leave my house and I’m hit by the noise and the smells and all the people, I think how lucky I am to be here. I don’t want to live like them, distanced from the people on the street and uninterested in what lies beyond the Settlement.’

  ‘You certainly stand out from the other Club ladies.’

  ‘I hope that’s a good thing?’

  Chow nodded. The silence hung between them. Annie’s skin began to tingle and the blood throbbed in her veins. She felt that dangerous thrill alive in her again and she was back in the classroom, mid-test, pencil raised but not writing. It was disconcerting.

  ‘Please allow me to escort you home, Mrs Brand. It will be safer, and your ordeal has upset you.’

  Annie stood a little too quickly. Chow reached out a hand as she winced on her sore ankle and she grasped it without thinking. She felt the eyes of the other patrons upon them.

  ‘There you go, Mrs Brand,’ he said, taking a respectful step back so she was forced to walk in front and away from him. A waiter held the door but Annie didn’t see him there as she walked out into the afternoon sunlight. Her palm still throbbed where Chow had held it.

  Before long they were moving through tree-lined, residential streets in the Concession. Chow tapped the little finger on his left hand against his knee and a brown-green ring slipped around as he did. ‘What an unusual colour.’ Annie watched him twist it in his fingers and noticed a flash of tattoo ink on his skin. His nails were pale and opalescent.

  ‘This jade belonged to my grandfather. Would you like to feel how smooth it has become with age?’ Chow offered the ring to Annie. A flush of heat rose in her cheeks as the cool, light weight of it tickled her hand.

  ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘It’s a connection to family; I’m honoured to wear it.’

  ‘It makes me melancholy to think of things I don’t have from home.’ Annie turned away and looked out to where the street moved quickly along. Her hands were bare except for the simple gold wedding band that still shone with newness. She had no idea where the few pieces of jewellery that belonged to her mother ended up; perhaps they were still waiting to be found in the drawer at home.

  She didn’t regret leaving all her possessions behind when she left home that lifetime ago; it was easier to travel light as she moved anonymously through the small towns and countryside of her childhood. But really, that was an excuse; she couldn’t bear any reminders of the life she was about to abandon.

  The rickshaw driver coughed loudly to signal their arrival and Annie realised Chow was standing on the street, holding out his hand, looking up at her expectantly.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Annie loitered over breakfast. Her ankle was still sore and bruised two days after she’d fallen in the street and she was annoyed at herself for getting caught up in the arrest of the thief. She was very grateful for Li Qiang’s help. She’d be more careful today and take the car to the Club for bridge.

  She flicked through the morning newspaper as she sipped on her daily coffee. The steam tickled her nostrils. She’d finally taught the cook how to brew a decent cup, and now she enjoyed one each morning. The headlines continued to report on the incarceration of the student protestors. The trial may have finished but it would still be weeks before the students received their sentence. In the meantime, they languished in the Nanking Road gaol while the police gathered information about who was behind the protests, focusing all their attention on the Communists. Annie didn’t know how much to believe. Chow had implied the papers were biased, which she agreed with. Yet, there were few alternative sources of reliable information.

  The Club library had a larger selection of newspapers and journals so Annie decided to go early and take a look. Bridge started at eleven so if she got going soon, she’d have a good hour to spend in the library before cards.

  She hurried up the imposing steps of the Shanghai Maritime Club, stopping to marvel at the high ceilings, as though they needed all that open space above their heads to breathe. It was designed to resemble a grand English country manor house, which helped foreigners feel at home. At least a dozen local families could live in the entrance hall alone.

  Annie went straight through to the library, running her hand over the meticulously ironed North China Daily News where it lay waiting to be read as she looked around at the multitude of book spines, tightly stacked together like a tapestry woven across the shelves. She looked for the journals and newspapers. The latest edition of Country Life and Ladies’ Companion were stacked on a rosewood coffee table. They were in pristine condition which meant they must just have arrived on the ship from London. But Annie ignored them, pulling out a Commerce Council journal from a shelf instead. She flipped through the first pages to an article about the protest. The few hours during the demonstration had become, in this sensational retelling, a nightmare of brandished scythes battering the windows and lascivious eyes whose wanton owners were intent on only one purpose. The report called it a Communist plot. She let the crackling paper drop back to the desk with frustrated resignation and resumed her search, hoping to find a piece that was less biased. But there were no magazines, newspapers or journals which gave a different view.

  Annie sat for a while, disappointed there was not a more measured account of the local politics to be found. Her hand rested briefly on the long deep mahogany table, one of many that fitted the room in symmetrical elegance, like rows of bed-ridden old men in an ordered cluster. Annie liked the library; it smelt of books and the silence was soothing. She pushed her chair back and felt the weight of wood and leather. Of course she could not find an alternative viewpoint in the library; here everyone agreed with the official position. Annie couldn’t imagine Admiral Marsden, the president of the Club, allowing a pro-Chinese perspective to be read by any of his members. He was, after all, a sitting member of the Municipal Council.

  Admiral Marsden was known for his experience with danger, having been through the Great War; twice wounded, once gassed, and with an artificial eye to show for it. He absolutely believed it was this experience which tipped his election to president of the Shanghai Maritime Club and not, as Annie ruefully believed, because his father had been master of the hunt in Leicestershire and hence he was an excellent horseman. The Shanghai Paper Hunt trophy had graced the glass cabinet in the gentlemen’s smoking lounge for the past two years. Annie checked the time on the wall clock and closed the library door quietly as she hurried to cards.

  Bridge was played in the smaller lounge, where Annie found ladies catching up on the latest gossip and family news before the proceedings commenced. There was a flurry of activity as women prepared themselves for the start of games. Mrs Marsden, their convenor, issued instructions to the servants on what time they would break for tea. Annie looked around for Chow, assuming he’d be supervising the tiffin, before moving to join her partner Flora. There seemed to be more tables in the room than usual but she found Flora seated and waiting. Annie patted her bridge partner encouragingly on the back. Flora was a slow and nervous player, and Annie felt for the poor girl who suffered terribly under Mrs Marsden’s critical eye.

  A hush descended on the room, as players settled into their seats and prepared to receive their cards. Mrs Marsden welcomed the assembly, with plain instructions on timings and etiquette. She repeated hers
elf each week without fail. The wall clock ticked in sympathy as Annie accepted her cards from Mrs Sargeant. Poor Flora pursed her lips and stared at Annie. Mrs Marsden interjected.

  ‘Oh do get a wiggle on Flora; we’d all like to get to the tea before it’s cold.’

  The other players at their table nodded in agreement. Around them, games were underway as the sound of sharpened pencils scratched scores on paper. Behind them china clinked as the tea service was prepared.

  Tiffin was served through the French doors, which when pushed wide open doubled the length of the room. One end was filled with bridge tables; the other was clear, except for a long pair of trestle tables set up across the far wall, dressed in linen and decadently flush with cakes. The door swung inwards and servants entered. The smell of freshly brewed tea began to circle. Annie watched a young man saunter through in a uniform that drowned him with its size. Flecks of perspiration dotted his forehead as he walked towards the table, balancing a steaming, full silver teapot on a tray. She recognised him when he smiled. It was Li Qiang who had helped her in the street. His toothy grin was hard to miss. Annie waved but he wasn’t looking her way, he was staring at the loaded platter of sandwiches. One of the more senior staff shouted at him and he turned too quickly. As he did the tray he was carrying dipped precariously to one side and even though he did his very best to save it, the teapot slid off and clattered to the floor.

  The ladies all stared regally at the startled boy, a ripple of necks turned in perfect unison. Mrs Marsden rose quickly to her feet.

  ‘You clumsy, stupid boy, what a mess! Chow, where are you?’ she shouted loudly and very quickly Chow appeared. ‘Why on earth is this dirty little chit serving tea? Get him out of my sight and clean this up immediately.’

  Annie was on her feet, pushing her way through the tables to get to where Li Qiang stood rooted to the spot. But Chow quickly ushered him out of the room. She turned to Mrs Marsden.