In the meantime she remained on her guard, fearing the men from Beijing would not give up so easily, and was careful not to stray far from the house.
One day Bella came into the living room and found Su-Ying on hands and knees, washing the floor with a damp cloth and bucket of water. She was barefoot, wearing her usual jeans and T-shirt, and got up at once, standing with head bowed, the damp cloth clutched in her hand.
‘There’s no need for you to do that,’ Bella said.
‘I was trying to help,’ Su-Ying said. ‘I apologise if you feel I should not do this but it is not right that I should sit here all day and do nothing.’
‘I am sorry,’ Bella said. ‘I took it for granted that as a newly married bride you would have plenty to occupy your mind without needing to do anything else. I know I found it so.’
‘I beg your pardon if I have done wrong,’ Su-Ying said.
Bella saw how defensive she was. She had been on her guard since she first got here. If I want to break through Su-Ying’s defences, Bella thought, now is the time to do it.
‘You have done nothing wrong,’ she said. ‘It is I who should apologise to you.’
Su-Ying’s body tautened like a wire under strain. ‘You are my mother-in-law. Why you apologise to me?’
‘Because I have underestimated how difficult it must be for you. An unfamiliar house in the middle of nowhere, people you don’t know and ways of behaving that are strange to you: I have not done enough to help you. I feel particularly bad about it, because you have done so much to help Richard.’
It was the wrong thing to say. Su-Ying shook her head emphatically. ‘He has done so much for me, you mean. Had it not been for him –’
‘You would have been sent back to China. That is true, and I’m not pretending that isn’t important, but never doubt you have given him a lot, too.’
‘I have given him nothing.’
‘You have changed his life,’ Bella said.
Through the open window, screened against flies, came the rusty cry of a red-tailed cockatoo. Su-Ying opened her mouth but at the last moment changed her mind and said nothing.
‘His father was a strong man. His sister is also strong. So, in my way, am I.’ She smiled almost apologetically. ‘We are a family of strong people. Richard is more intellectual than the rest of us. More sensitive. He has grown up surrounded by people more assertive than he is. I do not say more able but more inclined to throw their weight about. Perhaps we bullied him occasionally. And he allowed it, which may be why we did it.’
The almond eyes watched her. Su-Ying said: ‘He is a man who walks his own path. He is like bamboo, bending in the wind, but inside he is strong, as bamboo is strong. He allowed it, mother-in-law, because it didn’t matter to him.’
Bella stared at her daughter-in-law. ‘You believe that?’
‘I have come recently to believe that is so,’ Su-Ying said.
There was a pride in her voice that was new and Bella knew instinctively that Su-Ying was right. Richard had the same inner strength as she did. Yet it had taken her son’s wife to see what his mother had not, and the realisation made her respect her daughter-in-law more than ever.
‘If he was strong before, you have made him stronger. Perhaps, in helping you escape from those men, he discovered he could take on the world physically as well as mentally. I do not know how it happened, nor does it matter, but it has. So you see you have done a lot for him, too. And I have been neglectful in not saying so before. In not welcoming you as I should into this family. Of which you are now a valued member.’
‘I thought, perhaps, you were unsure. A foreigner…’
‘Do you think I care where you come from? Your mother bore you the same way as mine. Do you think I care that your eyes are a different shape?’
‘Some people might.’
‘I am not some people,’ Bella said. ‘I am pleased and proud you are my daughter-in-law.’
‘I am honoured,’ Su-Ying said.
It could have been only a formal acknowledgement of Bella’s words, but Bella knew better.
‘Do you know how to ride a horse?’ she asked.
Su-Ying shook her head.
‘People who live in this part of the world have to know how to ride. It is a basic requirement. Take that bucket outside and I shall teach you.’
‘I am not sure about horses,’ Su-Ying said dubiously.
‘You will come to love them,’ Bella told her.
In bed that night Su-Ying told Richard about the conversation.
‘She says she will teach me to ride a horse,’ she said.
‘Pity the poor horse,’ he said.
Having learnt something of her husband’s ways, she knew he had been thinking of doing a little riding himself, although horses had nothing to do with it. She was therefore unsurprised when, with a familiarity that was becoming habitual, he cupped her breast in his hand.
A week later Bella announced she had to go back to Perth; there were business decisions concerning the mine that could not be delayed. As to whether Richard and his wife chose to come with her or remain at Miranda Downs, she left it to them.
‘I don’t know whether you would feel safe in Perth,’ she told Su-Ying.
‘Once I would not,’ Su-Ying said. ‘But now I think you are right. I am married to an Australian and I do not think they will trouble me.’
‘Then will you come?’
‘We shall come with you,’ Su-Ying said.
‘I am fatally attractive to strong-willed women,’ Richard mourned, rolling his eyes. ‘They cluster about me like bees.’
Richard was delighted that Su-Ying had spoken without checking with him first; even a week before she would not have done it but since talking with Mother she had become a new woman, truly part of the family. All the same, he wondered how she would take to life in Perth. Desire, even more than Miranda Downs, was Bella’s home ground and he was afraid Su-Ying might find it hard to adapt to her mother-in-law’s vast mansion.
He soon discovered he need not have worried. Su-Ying informed him that in China it was normal for several generations of the same family to live under one roof. She was deferential to Bella. She was cautious about interfering in household affairs but showed independence in small ways, supervising the washing and ironing of their clothes and making sure their meals were served at the right times. But the greatest difference was in their private life.
Her beautiful body smelt of flowers; its deceptive fragility had excited him from the first, bringing him a pleasure beyond anything he had ever known. Now there was a new development.
‘Laukong,’ she crooned. Balanced on his thighs, she lifted his hands and pressed them to her breasts. ‘Laukong, laukong…’
‘What are you saying?’
‘Husband.’
‘So what do I call you?’
‘You may call me taitai, if you wish.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Respected wife. If you wish to honour me with that name.’
‘I respect you very much,’ he said. ‘Why not? I love you.’
‘It is a pillow name,’ she warned him.
He understood what she was telling him: the face of passion was not to be revealed to others or, outside the bed, even to each other.
It did not trouble him; being married to Lee Su-Ying was an excitement in itself, an adventure seemingly without end. He had loved her almost from their first meeting. He had known virtually nothing about her then; there was much he did not know about her now. He didn’t mind; her mystery added to her enchantment.
Certain things he knew by instinct. She was strong-willed and brave; she was a thousand-generation Han Chinese and always would be: married to the king of England she would still have been as Chinese as the Great Wall. She was reed-slender and as strong as tempered steel. If anyone could make a successful transition from the life she had known to this new life, Su-Ying was the woman to do it.
He thought, this gift she has given me.
I am a truly happy man.
It was the use of Chinese words in their lovemaking that led Su-Ying to her first public show of initiative. Had she said such a thing to Richard he would have told her she was making no sense so she did not say it. This did not bother her; she knew his understanding of her was becoming greater by the day but was still too superficial to uncover the subtleties of her thoughts and feelings.
Takes Chinese to know Chinese, she thought, but in truth it was very simple. She had promised herself she would say she loved him only when it was true. Now that time was close. Calling him husband, and in Chinese at that, was a first step; the rest would follow very soon. That certainty gave her the self-confidence to take an initiative that she would have found impossible only weeks before.
She went to Bella and explained what she had in mind.
‘Why not?’ Bella said. ‘I’m not sure we’ll find what you’re looking for, but we can try.’
They drove into the city. They stayed together; Su-Ying might have told Bella she was no longer afraid of being kidnapped but it was as well to be sure. She found what she was looking for not far from the docks.
That night, chin defiant, she served up the first Chinese food ever put on the table at Desire.
She sat back and observed them. Richard, fascinated by all things Chinese, had experimented before but Bella approached it with barely concealed apprehension.
She studied the first dish: a bowl of thick soup. ‘What is this?’
‘This fish maw soup.’
‘Fish maw?’
‘Fish maw is bladder of fish.’
Bella sipped cautiously; then again. Her eyes lit up. ‘It’s delicious!’
When they came to the fish course, the sauce brought tears to Bella’s eyes.
‘Spicy,’ Su-Ying said happily.
‘You can say that again,’ Bella said.
All in all it was a huge success.
‘We must do this more often,’ Bella said.
‘Happy you like,’ Su-Ying said.
The success of the meal gave her the confidence to come up with her next suggestion.
‘Chairman Mao is very old man,’ she said one evening.
She and Bella had been out riding together – Bella had insisted she keep up with her lessons – and, while Su-Ying would never make a champion jockey, she managed well enough. Now, bathed and rested, she and Bella were sitting in the upstairs gallery watching the night come down across the vastness of the land that lay to the east. An empty land full of promise, rendered more mysterious by the gathering darkness.
‘Many Chinese people respect him very much,’ Su-Ying said. ‘But not all; the Cultural Revolution has held China back. When he dies there will be many changes. China will modernise. There will be a huge demand for western resources.’
‘Such as?’
‘Such as copper. Coal. Iron ore.’
Bella slanted a glance at her. ‘You think so?’
‘I am sure of it.’
‘China might want these things,’ Bella said, ‘but how will it pay for them?’
‘The money will be found. My respectful opinion is that this will offer fantastical opportunity, most truly, and company should be ready to take full advantage.’
‘How does it do that?’
‘Very simple. Richard took classes at university so already speaks some Chinese. Very important he becomes fluent. This will be very useful in negotiating contracts for us in the future.’
Bella noted Su-Ying’s use of us. ‘You are as confident of China’s future as that?’
‘After Chairman Mao’s death, my hope is that Minister Deng will be restored to power. Then I am confident, yes.’
‘Minister Deng and your father?’
‘I hope so, yes.’
‘Have you spoken to Richard about this?’
‘Better I speak to Mother-in-law first,’ Su-Ying said.
‘And who will teach him?’
‘I shall.’
A month later Su-Ying made another suggestion.
‘I am troubled,’ she said.
Bella had been working in her office downstairs; now, late in the afternoon, she had joined her daughter-in-law for tea – arranged by Su-Ying. Once again they sat in the gallery in what Bella was beginning to call their favourite roosting place. The skies were dark; lightning prowled in spasmodic bursts of violet light along the horizon and they watched the rain sweeping in grey sheets across the land.
‘Why are you troubled?’ Bella asked.
‘Richard took me away to prevent my being sent back to China.’
Bella sipped her tea. Jasmine tea, obtained from the same back-street shop where Su-Ying bought all her Chinese supplies. Keep going like this, she thought, I shall end up as Chinese as she is. Although when she checked in the mirror her eyes were as round as ever.
‘So?’ she asked.
‘So he never write exams,’ Su-Ying said.
‘The rector of the university is a friend of mine. I have spoken to him and explained the circumstances. Richard will be able to write the exams next year.’
‘Then he must work.’
It was true that much of the time Richard had his nose in non-accounting books – his current favourite was Sun Tzu’s The Art of War – but Bella was unconcerned.
‘I think you will find he’ll be more than capable of passing his exams when the time comes. And in the meantime he is helping Martin Dexter in the office, as you know. Martin speaks very highly of him.’
‘It is not enough to pass,’ Su-Ying said. ‘He must be the best.’
Well, hullo, Bella thought. Quite the little slave driver.
But she thought none the less of her daughter-in-law for that. To be the best was what she had always wanted for herself.
Four months later her positive feelings about her daughter-in-law were reinforced when Su-Ying announced that she was with child.
The next generation already, Bella thought happily. Now all we need is positive news from Peace. But she knew from their correspondence that for the moment at least her daughter’s life had an entirely different focus.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
The Cornish summer was at its peak. The previous month Peace Tucker had graduated from Camborne with the Macalister gold medal. She would soon be moving on – she had already had an approach from the States – but it was not about honours or America that she was thinking now.
Peace and Greg Terblanche had been an item for six months. She’d had plenty of casual friends since she had been in England, including a couple of lovers, but no serious relationships. At first she had thought Greg might change that. After the frustrating time she’d had with Ian Lassiter, too gentle and accommodating for a woman in love with the tough masculinity of her father, it had been a pleasure to be with a real man who knew what real men wanted.
Greg Terblanche was Mr Testosterone himself but unfortunately had turned out to be not only tough but rough. He hadn’t hit her – I’d fillet any man who tried that, Peace thought – but she had discovered that what he really wanted was a sexual doormat, and Peace Tucker was nobody’s doormat. So the relationship was dead or at least dying; more and more she was finding it hard to remember what had drawn her to him in the first place.
‘I have family business in Yorkshire,’ Peace said. ‘But I think I’d better go alone.’
She had written to tell Bella she planned to see her grandfather before she left England and Bella had given the suggestion her blessing.
I am sure he will be delighted to see you, she had written. And you might ask him about his neighbour, Charles Hardy, while you’re there. He used to be a friend of mine. We haven’t been in touch for over thirty years, but I shall be interested to know if he and his wife are well. And look up Grandma Jenny, too, if you can find her.
Peace had phoned the Grange in advance and was expected. All the same, her nerves were jumping as she sat in the vast drawing room and waited.
How did you deal wi
th an earl? Would he be welcoming? Polite but distant, or wondering, audibly, why this stranger had come to bother him?
She looked at the room, its furnishings discreetly worn yet still elegant, with what she suspected would be good paintings of rural scenes hanging on the walls. It was hard to imagine her mother, at home in the rough and tumble of Miranda Downs, being brought up in such an environment.
The door opened. The man who came in was tall and wraith-thin, walking tentatively with the aid of a stick. She had known Grandfather must be old but had not expected to find him decrepit. She stood and walked towards him. He permitted her to come to him, smiling gently with his hands folded on his stick. She had thought she might recognise a faded version of her mother or even herself in the earl’s features, but there was no sign of either of them.
‘So you are my granddaughter,’ he said. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you. Even if a little late in the day.’
He smiled and Bella caught a glimpse of the young man he must have been, and how, more than fifty years before, he had succeeded in charming the bait-digger’s daughter. Gracious was the only word to describe him. She guessed he would speak to his tenants in exactly that tone of voice but it didn’t matter because here, at last, was one half of the roots that only now she realised she had missed so much.
‘We shall sit down and take some tea,’ he said in his amiable, lordly way. ‘I wonder if I might trouble you to ring the bell? Age is such a nuisance. And how is your mother?’
‘She is very well.’
‘And prospering?’
‘Certainly.’
‘Unfortunately the countess is away. She will be sorry to have missed you.’
The tea came, with slices of Dundee cake of which the earl told her he was particularly fond. ‘You have no objection to Dundee cake?’
‘On the contrary.’ But felt awkward even as she said it, trapped in a period drama to which she could not relate.
If Bella had stayed, she thought, would she, too, be apologising to visitors about Dundee cake? She could not imagine it; it was impossible to visualise Bella in this over-civilised environment. She would have suffocated, as would Peace herself. Perhaps it was as well Bella had walked out when she had. Not that it excused the way the countess had behaved.
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