The Shanghai Wife

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The Shanghai Wife Page 9

by Emma Harcourt


  From somewhere inside the house Annie heard a shout. Gingerly she stepped into the corridor but no further. ‘Hello?’ She could hear people talking now and the music had stopped. She called out again.

  A young girl raced past. ‘Heh!’ Annie called as she disappeared out into the street. She walked a few more steps inside. Then she saw Li Qiang hovering in the room at the end of the corridor. She was sure it was him.

  ‘Li Qiang, it’s Mrs Brand from the Club. You remember me? We’re worried about you. Your sister would like you to come home. Come and say hello.’ Annie began to walk towards him. But she stopped abruptly when she saw a burly man grab him by the shirt and drag him forwards.

  ‘This boy you want?’ The man shoved Li Qiang roughly towards Annie. He fell at her feet. She could hear his ragged breathing and realised too late what a horrible mistake she’d made. He shook uncontrollably and looked up at Annie from the ground where the man dumped him. The fear in Li Qiang’s eyes was clear.

  ‘What you want with him; pretty boy for you?’

  Annie was horrified. She stammered a reply. ‘Not at all.’

  ‘Then what?’ The man leant forward menacingly over Li Qiang. He was like a great mountain of flesh. ‘Police?’

  ‘No, not police. Family, sister.’ Annie raised her hands.

  The man grabbed Li Qiang and pulled him to his feet. He said something and the boy shook his head vigorously. An angry deep voice shouted from the side room, and the thug hit Li Qiang across the head in response, almost like a father would scold a naughty child with a swift cuff. Only Annie heard the violent crack and Li Qiang cowered and whimpered and fell to the floor again.

  Annie gasped; what had she done? Someone moved in the side room and Annie heard banging on the floor. From the corner of her eye she saw a man heaving himself up to stand and reach for something. A flash of silver caught her eye.

  Li Qiang groaned and the thug kicked him so that he crawled back down the corridor from where he’d come. The space shrank around him in the semi-darkness.

  ‘Go, go!’ the man shouted at Annie.

  Annie backed away, bumping her arm painfully against the wall. Then she turned and stumbled into the street. Behind her the door banged shut.

  When she got home, Annie was stunned and shaken. The stink of pungent smoke hung in her hair and her skin felt chalky. She asked the wash amah to run a bath and lay in the hot water with eyes closed, glad to be in the reassuring sanctuary of her tiled bathroom. The soothing warmth seeped through her skin and only the sound of a solitary drip hitting the water punctuated her breathing. Gradually the tightness in her limbs eased. But she could not stop thinking about Li Qiang.

  The hairs on her neck prickled at the memory of him crawling away from her. She shut her eyes tight and slid under the water. She had made his situation worse. She must tell Chow as soon as she could; he’d know what to do.

  Later that afternoon, Annie headed to the Club. She found Chow arranging glasses in the dining room and pulled him to one side. He listened intently to what she told him.

  ‘Why did you do this?’ Chow spoke quickly and softly. There was an edge to his voice Annie had not heard before.

  ‘It was naive of me, I can see that now, but we have to get him out of that place.’

  ‘Sit down, please.’ Chow steered her to a comfortable armchair. His hand on the small of her back was firm and reassuring. Then he sat in the chair next to hers. His solicitous approach worried Annie. She bit her lip and frowned. Chow never sat down in the members’ areas.

  ‘Li Qiang’s body was delivered to his sister an hour ago.’

  ‘No!’ Annie gasped. ‘What on earth are you saying? I saw him just this morning.’ The room swayed. Her head felt light and she grabbed the arm of the chair for support.

  ‘His body was left at his uncle’s doorstep, a bullet in his head. It is a most tragic end to a young life.’

  ‘Oh my god, Chow. This is my fault.’

  ‘We do not know that for sure.’

  ‘Then why was he killed?’ Her voice dropped to a whisper.

  ‘He did something wrong to meet such a fast end. These gangs supply opium to the illegal brothels and dens, he may have taken some for his personal use, or he may have betrayed the gang. We will never know.’

  ‘Or he led a foreign woman straight to them?’

  ‘I don’t think you would be considered a threat, Mrs Brand. At least they returned his body to his uncle; it is a sign of respect for the family.’ Chow looked around as he spoke.

  ‘Do you think his sister is in danger now too?’ Annie clasped her hands together. She could not stop shaking.

  ‘There is no reason for that, but I will keep an eye on her myself.’ Chow stood and walked to the door. He checked no one was nearby then shut it so that they were alone.

  ‘Would she see me?’ Annie heard the clink of crystal as Chow poured two shots of whiskey.

  ‘It is not the time for visitors. She is in mourning.’ He gave one glass to Annie and held up his own in salute. They drank in silence. The fiery liquid stung in Annie’s throat but it warmed her from the inside and stopped her shaking. She reached around her neck and unhooked the strand of black jet beads. They tinkled like water as they fell into her lap.

  ‘Give her these.’ She dropped the necklace into Chow’s palm.

  Chow nodded as he folded the beads into a coiled circle and put them in his coat pocket.

  ‘I’m afraid I must get back to work. My absence will be noticed. I am sorry to leave you in such a state.’

  ‘Yes, go, don’t worry about me.’ Annie couldn’t find any other words. She stayed in the empty dining room ’til the evening dark crept in and the electric lights flashed on.

  Annie was keener than ever to have Alec home. It had been three weeks since she returned to Shanghai and she had made a terrible mess of things; she needed his support. Li Qiang’s death had shaken her and she was mortified by her own naivety in barging in so disastrously. She spent so much of her time exploring the Settlement streets and the cosmopolitan centre around the Bund that she’d begun to believe she was more like a local than a foreigner. Li Qiang’s death made her realise how far from the truth that was.

  When she first arrived in Shanghai, Annie was intoxicated by the city. As she set her house in order and the servants brought her cups of flowered tea she felt in control of her future. When she’d watched an old man on the Bund in a long silk gown walk a bird which perched on a stick he held and flew off at intervals to the length of its string leash, she felt the excitement of new possibilities tugging at the string; and when Alec had taken her to a traditional teahouse and they stood aside to let a party pass, the women swaying as they teetered on tiny embroidered slippers that looked no bigger than a baby’s bootie, Annie felt like her husband’s equal. Shanghai had done that for her but Annie realised, too late to change Li Qiang’s fate, that she had little real understanding of the Chinese culture and its people; she was a foolish foreign woman, and she had no right to meddle.

  She pulled her brush firmly through her hair. The tortoiseshell paddle was cool and smooth. Annie tugged at the knots and stared at her reflection. Today was the outing to the Old City. She didn’t want to let Natalia down but she was nervous. At least Chow would be accompanying them. Annie determined not to presume to understand anything she saw; rather, she’d ask questions and listen to Chow. With this outing she could begin to gain some true understanding of this city.

  The car pulled up at a set of imposing wooden doors built into the stone wall that enclosed the old walled city of Shanghai. They were south of the French Concession in an area of Shanghai under Chinese Government rule. The gates were open and led into Sanpailou Road, the main thoroughfare. It was very early in the morning, when a mist of dew still hung about the paved stonework like tiny insects. Annie and Natalia had met Chow at the Club an hour earlier, from where they’d travelled together by car, crossing into the French Concession and down to the border
with Nanshi and the Old City.

  The alleyways of Shanghai were often thin, but the streets within the old town were so narrow it was hard for even a wheelbarrow to pass through. The houses were built of slate-coloured soft brick, only about eight feet wide and paved with stone slabs; many residents had a bamboo pole resting from one eave to the opposite. All manner of laundry, from women’s pants to foot-binding strips hung from them. Annie looked away with embarrassment, and caught Chow smiling at her. She only just missed stepping into a puddle of stagnant water.

  ‘Are you sure it’s all right for us to be here?’

  ‘This is authentic Shanghai; the Yu Garden has been here since the Ming dynasty, and you will be impressed. The Confucian scholar Pan Yunduan built the gardens for his parents to enjoy. The pavilion in the middle of the lake—the willow-pattern teahouse as you like to call it—is not so old, but very popular. Please, follow me.’

  Annie felt water drip on her shoulder as they walked. She looked up to where wet clothes hung from a bamboo pole. Chow led them down the road and as they turned a corner she saw the large, ornate structure of the teahouse, squatting like a buddha in the middle of an artificial lake. Delicate eaves swept out in pointed waves from the numerous roofs that dovetailed into each other.

  The zigzag bridge was a mass of people, and Annie gasped at the sight of so much human activity in such a confined space. But Chow led them sideways from the bridge, into the bazaar around the lake and the women walked through it slowly, stopping to pick up a wooden toy boat at one stall, watching peanuts being deep-fried at another. The shopfronts were makeshift affairs with wood and paper roofs that protected the goods from the weather, but also stopped any breeze. The air was close and still.

  Natalia linked arms with Annie. Chow walked ahead, turning and beckoning them onwards. It was pleasant to be out of the thick and heat of the bazaar and walking across the wooden zigzag bridge. Natalia stood on one side watching the water flow slowly beneath them. Annie watched a carp fish hit the lake and disappear swiftly beneath the surface, the man who had thrown it in standing nearby.

  ‘He is showing Buddha how kind he is to living things,’ Chow explained as he came up to stand beside her, softly pressing his hands together in prayer. They moved slowly across the bridge, turning with the crowd at each corner. When they finally arrived at the teahouse, the foreigners were ushered inside immediately, past the crowds, and taken to the top level where it was quiet and almost empty.

  ‘I will order tea and cake, if you allow me?’

  ‘Thank you, Chow.’

  Annie looked down from her window seat. She could see the bazaar and surrounding roads like a maze, swarming with people. The sun glared off the lake’s surface, warming the spot where they sat. Natalia had a paper fan which she turned towards Annie and the cool air tousled her hair. Chow didn’t rejoin them.

  ‘Where do you suppose he’s gone?’ Annie asked Natalia.

  ‘He will be down on the ground level with the Chinese.’

  ‘I really feel so isolated up here and I don’t like the fact Chow can’t sit with us.’

  ‘Well, let’s ask Chow to take us somewhere else for lunch—where we can sit together. There must be many places near here.’ Natalia snapped her fan shut. The women descended to the crowded ground level where the tables were full of different groups sharing benches to seat as many customers as possible. The noise was deafening, but they quickly spotted Chow at the end of a row and made their way over.

  ‘Would you take us out now, Chow?’

  Once they were back on the bridge and walking slowly, Annie spoke.

  ‘This is truly a beautiful building and location. Thank you for showing it to us. But Natalia and I would much rather find a lunch spot where we can all sit together. We don’t like the segregation of this place. Is there somewhere we could visit where we won’t be treated differently?’

  Chow looked at them and frowned.

  ‘You would be shocked by the poor areas around the old town. No foreigners go there.’

  ‘That’s the area we would really prefer to visit, not another tourist tearoom. We might as well have stopped on Bubbling Well Road.’ Natalia waved her fan about as she spoke.

  ‘What do you think, Chow?’ Annie asked.

  ‘What about the Little North Gate district of Nanshi, I believe it’s only a couple of miles from here?’ Natalia held up a book about Shanghai, the page open at a detailed map. ‘It’s so close.’

  Chow turned away from them both, and Annie wasn’t sure what he would say. When he turned back, he opened his arms wide in acquiescence and nodded slowly.

  Outside the Old City Chow waved to their driver. Within minutes the car was crawling along a barren road lined with dirty, ramshackle homes built into the ageing stone walls of ancient shikumen houses. It was hard to see where the traditional wooden gates stood. But Chow helped the ladies out of the car and they faced a stone portico. A crowd of children gathered quickly to stare at the foreigners. Many of them held bowls and kept eating as they watched the spectacle. The impoverished shantytown didn’t seem to begin at any distinct point. It spilt into the densely clotted alleyway neighbourhood which the party stood before. The dwellings cascaded into each other, sharing broken-down walls and wooden poles for support.

  The ladies ducked down as they passed through the arched entrance where the name Zhenye Li was inscribed. Stretching out in front of them was a stone-paved path with smaller alleyways branching off at short intersections. Tightly packed rows of brick and wood houses lined each alley. The skin on Annie’s arms prickled. She’d never seen this level of poverty before. Just inside the alley, they circled around a well, topped with a wooden lid. A woman approached and filled her bucket with water that splashed onto the pavement and trickled along the grooves of stone under Annie’s feet. Life didn’t stop for foreigners here. She saw Natalia had already walked ahead.

  Someone tugged at Annie’s skirt and she turned to see a man with no legs walking on his hands, only rags covering his thin torso. She stumbled back against a wall. Her hands fumbled as she pushed around in her purse for a coin. On her hemline she felt the beggar’s insistent tug, tug. It was only a matter of minutes, but, against all of her moral judgement, she wished him gone. Then Chow shouted and she saw the beggar swing around and shuffle away, but not before Chow had given him a copper. Annie stood quietly to the side, shamed into stillness by her reaction.

  ‘Don’t be frightened, he would not have hurt you.’ Chow took her arm.

  ‘I’m no different to all the ignorant Club women. I’m ashamed of myself.’

  Chow pressed lightly on her sleeve. ‘Don’t be, Mrs Brand.’

  After that, Annie noticed Chow walked closer to her. They turned down one of the smaller alleys. To her left, Annie saw a man standing above someone seated on an upturned crate. His elbow stuck out at an awkward angle while his hand was in the patient’s mouth. A multitude of jagged, discoloured human teeth were strung together in a long necklace across the stall to advertise the dentist’s expertise. A cage was suspended above the next stall’s wooden roof. Chickens noisily flapped within the bamboo frame. Other cages were sprawled in the dirt—pigs, ducks, dogs, cats. Annie knew these were food.

  Children played with sticks and lengths of string, while women sat in doorways and stirred steaming pots. Annie looked around, turning full circle so as not to miss any of it. Her own neat home seemed very lonely compared to this open-door commune. Natalia was crouched down, talking to a little boy. He smiled broadly as she handed over a sweet. Then he ran off. Annie wished she’d had the foresight to bring something to hand out too. A pile of baskets balanced haphazardly and Annie stumbled into them as she turned to follow Chow. He caught her shoulders, helping her to balance and raised his brow in question. She nodded, keep going.

  They continued slowly. Annie’s boots were dirty with mud and animal litter and her hemline caught on the rough cobblestones. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of pig mud a
nd rotting food.

  ‘Come closer, I will help you.’

  ‘I’m a fool for wearing these ridiculous walking clothes. Look how they clog with the mud and cling to my legs.’

  ‘These are the right clothes for a proper lady, of course.’

  Annie felt his eyes on her and walked forward a little. She’d abandoned the idea of dressing in something modern for fear of standing out, although clearly that was always going to be the case. Natalia had no such qualms, as she strode forward in trousers and a dark blue shirt. Now Annie wished she was wearing more practical clothes.

  A gong sounded and up ahead they saw the man who was beating on it walking round in a circle. There was anticipation in his gait as he swept about, encouraging people to come forward.

  ‘Come, let us watch.’ Chow gently steered the women towards him. They stood back as a gaggle of local children jostled about for the best spots in the audience circle which had naturally formed around the performer. Annie could see clearly across the heads of the children and others who were watching the street show. Suddenly the man stopped beating the gong. The murmuring amongst the crowd quietened to a curious silence. The man wore a pair of glasses with fine metal frames and he bowed and took up a thin stick. Annie noticed that he moved slowly and dramatically, looking into the faces of individuals in the crowd. Beside him sat a long-legged monkey with small, clouded eyes and leathery black padded hands that were scuffed like worn-out shoes. When the man tapped the monkey with the stick it plucked off his glasses and put them on. The crowd cheered.

 

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