by L G Rollins
Ju tried not to let her mother’s dragging feet niggle at her as she put the cleaning soaps, scrubbers, and rags away and returned to the dance stage. When Ju had first arrived that night, she’d noticed a few odds and ends left out on the stage: a couple of chairs and a small rug. She’d moved them to the side to wash the floor beneath, but, since she wasn’t walking with Mama at the moment, she might as well return them to their home in a back room.
Silence echoed around her as Ju rolled up the rug and placed it underneath one arm. Then she hefted one chair with each hand. It was awkward, but not terribly hard as the chairs weren’t heavy. Lifting the items, she caught a waft of old fabric and Wei shu’s perfume. Though dust ridden and stale, the smell still made Ju feel sentimental—she’d spent hundreds of hours in this place.
Ju only knocked one of the chairs into a wall once; the soft clap sounded huge in the still space. Ju reached the door to the back room and had to set one of the chairs down to twist the doorknob.
Footsteps echoed off to her left. Ju’s heart jumped at the sound and she paused with her hand just above the knob.
“Mama?” she called out. She’d heard Mama and Wei shu’s voices coming from the office far from the back room when she’d been rolling up the rug. It wasn’t like Mama to sneak about.
Ju peered into the darkness to her left. The long hallway wasn’t lit and thoughts of what could be lurking in the shadows sent goosepimples rushing up her arms. She couldn’t see anything, and she didn’t hear anything more, either. Perhaps it was only her imagination, or the old building groaning as it settled for the night. Ju mentally shook herself. She’d basically been raised inside this old place and she knew better than anyone that it tended to creak at odd times.
“Hello, Ju.”
Ju nearly jumped out of her skin. Whirling around, she found Tu wang and his nasty smile standing uncomfortably close.
“Hello, Wang,” she said, not bothering to add any joy to her tone that she didn’t feel. What was he still doing hanging about this place? She’d been certain everyone had left.
“I’d heard you were still working here. One as lovely as you doesn’t belong among such filth.” He waved toward the old furniture in her arms.
Ju pushed down the bile that rose in her throat. She regularly had that reaction to Wang’s twisted flattery. Did he not realize that she loved this place? It was her second home and where she’d learned to dance.
“If the filth you find here isn’t to your liking,” she said, “you could always look elsewhere.” No doubt there were plenty of places filled with filth closer to the kind Wang enjoyed.
“There are always other ways of earning a little pin money.” He reached a hand out, brushing it against her cheek. “You just need to be a good little China girl—”
Ju recoiled, bringing the chair in her arm up and between them. “No, Wang. I’m not just some pretty face, here to do your bidding. Now leave.” Ju pushed the door open and shuffled both chairs and the rug inside. The room held no gas lamp and was pitch black.
Ju shuffled forward, not daring to take large steps into the dark in case she tripped over something unseen. If only the idiotic man would go away and she could return to the peace and quiet of the empty dance school.
Wang moved up right behind her, his chest all but pressing up against her back. His hand moved over her waist and down onto her hip.
Ju shivered and dropped the chairs. “Hands off me, Wang.” She clutched the tightly wrapped rug in both hands.
He only stepped closer. “Come now, we both know you and I—”
She swung the rug and felt the impact when it smacked into Wang’s face. He let out a grunt of surprise and pain. Ju dropped the now-bent rug. Summoning all the strength in her legs, which had trained hard at dance for nearly two decades, Ju kicked. Her foot hit Wang somewhere between his chest and stomach. Air rushed out of him with an oof.
Ju kicked out again. But she couldn’t see. Her second kick met with only air. Something hard crashed into her shin and her supporting leg buckled. A fist hit her forehead and she toppled over. Her shoulder smashed into the floor and the hit sent a jolt of pain shooting through her. Ju groaned and rolled onto her back.
Wang’s ghostly white face hovered above her. “You’re going to pay for that, dirty wench.”
The door behind Wang swung open silently and a form passed between them and the light in the hallway beyond.
A dark shadow, thick and tangible, wrapped around Wang’s throat. A deep voice came from beside his head. “The lady said hands off.”
Wang tried to say something, but the shadow tightened his arm and Wang only gagged instead. Ju could make out Wang’s bugged out eyes and white, panicked expression but she couldn’t see any more than the darkest hints of eyes on the other man. Was he dressed all in black? Even painted his skin black?
Ju got her hands underneath her and scooted herself back a couple of inches. Who was this other man and why, by the gears above, was he here?
“I’ve been wanting someone to punch all day,” the shadow said. “Now, I’m going to take my arm away from your throat and if you do anything but scamper out of here like the rat you are, you will become that someone.”
Wang nodded. The shadow moved as though to release Wang, but instead grabbed Wang’s shirt and flung him several feet to the side. Wang smashed into one of the chairs and it splintered across the room.
The shadow stood—a tall, ominous form—and towered over both Ju and Wang. With a yelp, Wang pulled himself to his hands and knees and scurried from the room.
Ju struggled to pull her gaze away from the shadow. She could only make out his silhouette, outlined by the light from the hallway. He turned toward her—the dark mass that was him warped to be a narrow black shadow and then widened again as he turned her direction and blocked nearly all of the hall light.
She forced her trembling legs under her. The shadow knelt down, his hand reaching for her elbow. Ju jumped at the touch. This man may have saved her from Wang, but that didn’t mean she was bound to trust him.
But his touch was gentle, no hint of force or violent intent behind it. Slowly, he urged her to stand.
“Are you all right, miss?” His voice, too, was gentle. Calming.
Ju swallowed and finally convinced herself to pull her elbow from his hand. “Quite.” Her voice shook. Gracious, now that Wang had left, tingles over what had almost happened coursed across her skin and her eyes began to water. Still, she kept her chin up. “I best clean up this mess.” She motioned toward the shattered chair. Hopefully it wasn’t worth much to Wei shu; it had only been an old, weathered chair.
“Take care of it later.” The man placed a hand against the small of her back and nudged her toward the door.
Ju let him lead her out into the hallway and the light. She breathed in the light as though it were fresh air. She was safe. Well—she thought she was. Ju glanced back over her shoulder at the tall man.
Of course, he wasn’t painted black, he was simply dark-skinned. Though he was dressed in black. His hair was long and in deadlocks. He had a square jaw and a determined air to him which she found comforting.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said, not wanting to put space between them but feeling she ought to for proprieties sake. “But, who are you? And what are you doing here?” After moving away from him, Ju missed the security she’d felt when he’d been directly beside her. No doubt, it was his broad shoulders that created such a feeling. There probably weren’t many who could take this shadow man down. Yet, he’d still treated her with such gentleness.
“My name is Jasper.”
“And you just happened to be strolling about a dance school because . . . ?”
A half-smile twitched against his lips, a hint of mischief. “I was hoping for a lesson?”
Despite her horrid encounter with Wang, Ju felt her terror subsiding. Her hands were no longer shaking.
The shadow—uh, Jasper—leaned in a bit closer. “Don’t tel
l anyone, but I’ve always had a secret desire to wear a tutu.”
The mental image of the large, dark man with dreadlocks in something so delicate and light chased away some of the lingering bits of fear and Ju found herself almost smiling. “Most of the dancers here are fifteen or younger. I’m not sure we have one that would fit you.”
He let out a loud sigh and his shoulders dropped dramatically. “Another dream crushed.” Then his eyes came up and met hers. He smiled. Flittering butterflies filled Ju’s stomach and warmed her chest. She’d never felt that way around a man. Perhaps it was because he’d just come to her rescue. Or perhaps, unlike nearly every other man she knew, he wasn’t looking at her as though she were a tasty dish he could consume at will.
“May I introduce you to my mama?” Ju pointed down the hall. “She’s just in the other room speaking with the dance school’s owner.”
Jasper’s expression changed. His smile slipped away and he worked his jaw back and forth. He seemed to be mulling over some great problem, but what was so complicated about meeting someone’s mama?
“Thank you, no,” he said. “But I am glad she’s here. Even with that rat gone, it’s best you aren’t alone right now.”
Bringing up the events of moments ago seemed to weight the air around them. Ju felt her lips turn down and she nodded.
Jasper moved past her and a few steps down the hall in the opposite direction. Then he paused and glanced around him. “I’ve lived in London my whole life. I’m amazed I never knew of this place.”
Ju wasn’t. The dozen or so Chinese families transplanted here tended to keep to themselves. “You should see it during the day when all the dancers are here. It’s fairly magical.”
His smile returned. “I’d like to see that.” He took a small step backward, still facing Ju but retreating at the same time. “You best go see your mother. Let her know what happened and stay away from that rat from now on.”
Ju glanced over at the room mama and Wei shu were in. “Yes, of course.”
When she turned back around, Jasper was gone. It was as though he’d melded back into the shadows of the night. Ju rubbed her arm. Maybe he had; maybe he was less human and more darkness. Either way, he’d saved her.
He had been her black angel.
She walked slowly toward the office room. Whoever he was, she hoped he would come see the dance school during the day. She hoped even more fervently that she’d be there when he did.
CHAPTER SIX
Ju’s steps slowed as she neared Wei shu’s dancing school. Memories from last night flooded over her; fear at finding herself in a dark room with Wang, terror at being pinned down, an overwhelming mix of awe and surprise and relief at Jasper’s sudden appearance.
She still didn’t know why he’d been inside the dance school last night. She’d dwelt on it most of the day and slowly the intense draw she felt toward him had begun to wain as the few ideas she could come up with were not very confidence-building. Had he been there to rob the place? Was he a thief? Had he been there for his own clandestine meeting with another young woman? That thought made her stomach sour. In the brief conversation they’d had, there was nothing about his manner or way of speaking that made her think he was a rake. But one could never be sure about those things and he had been sneaking about a closed dance school in the middle of the night—a place he had no business being.
Still, she couldn’t shake the deep gratitude she felt for him. Even though, more likely than not, he’d been there for less than honorable reasons, she would forever think of him as her dark angel.
With a small smile on her lips at the memory of his hand gently against her back, Ju skipped up the steps and entered Wei shu’s Dancing Flowers.
The school was bursting with chatter. There were more women packed into the small auditorium than Ju had ever seen, which was saying something since she’d been coming here every day most of her life and it was often filled with young women.
There wasn’t much to the dance school. It was a large room with chairs all facing a dilapidated stage. Add an office off to the right and a long hallway down the back—which had the storage room off it on one side and a back door at the end—and that was all. Yet, every small room, every corner, every chair and bit of space seemed bursting with female conversation.
Gracious, something must have happened. Though the school taught mostly young girls, many previous students stopped by now and then to help out and reconnect with friends. And it seemed as though they all were here today.
As she strode through the room, Ju tried to pick up on bits of conversation and piece together what had Chinatown all agog.
“He called me ‘dear’, twice!”
“I’ve never seen such a smile.”
“I wish I had worn my pink ruqun today. It’s far more flattering than this drab dress.”
Ju made her way to Wei shu’s office. They seemed to all be talking about the same man. Someone who’d shown up today at the dancing school and left them all aflutter.
“Gracious, I’ve never seen skin so dark.”
Ju’s foot paused halfway through the office door.
A second woman answered the first. “I’ll admit, I was quite taken aback when he first walked in.” The woman leaned into her friend and whispered, “I was positively intimidated.”
“You didn’t act too intimidated when he said you were his ‘sweetheart’.” The women both laughed.
Dark skinned and intimidating? Ju’s hands turned cold. Apparently, Jasper had come back. But instead of leaving her feeling happy, the thought of him flirting with all and sundry only left her feeling out of sorts. Misplaced, as it were. Ju scowled at the women about her, scowled at their giggles and their tittering laughter. Jasper was her dark angel—well, he had been. Maybe their chance encounter hadn’t mattered to him as it had to her.
“For the love of all that is holy,” Wei shu muttered from next to Ju. “Have you ever seen such a silly bunch of ninnies?”
Ju turned to her once dance instructor and now friend. “Someone new came by the school today?” She tried to keep her voice casual, unaffected.
Wei shu nodded, the wrinkles about her eyes deepening. “To make matters worse, he brought a camera.” She shook her head as her gaze moved about the many women. “I’ve never seen so much fluttering and fanning in all my days. Yu yan and Changchang are showing him the rooms behind stage.”
He was still here? Now? “Behind stage?” was all Ju could think to say.
“He said he was interested—said something about research for an art gallery.” Wei shu huffed, making it clear how ridiculous she believed the situation.
A low, masculine laugh came from the other side of the room. Ju turned toward it. Jasper, dreadlocks pulled back just has they had been the night before, strolled around the corner of the stage and into the room, Yu yan on one arm, Changchang on his other.
He was here. Ju felt the fluttering in her own chest at the thought of being able to speak with Jasper again, but she didn’t want it like this. Ju turned to Wei shu, angling her back toward Jasper. More than one European man had told her that Asians all looked alike to him. If there was one thing Ju wasn’t going to tolerate, it was being just another black-haired beauty in a sea of almond eyes. If that’s all she was to Jasper, then she wasn’t interested in pursuing the acquaintance.
“We were practically raised here, since our parents all work long hours.” Changchang was prattling about life at the dancing school.
“There are worse places to grow up,” Jasper replied. Though his tone was kind, Ju thought there was a sad-tipped edge to his words. How had he been raised? Was he of the upper class and this—his sudden interest in the school and his camera—his amusing pet project? Or did he work for a living and this was his means of escaping a hard life? Ju wasn’t sure where he fit in society. Not knowing made him more interesting and made her feel less like trusting him at the same time.
“Hold it.”
Jasper’s
sudden command peaked Ju’s curiosity and she glanced over at what he was doing. Jasper no longer had either young woman hanging on his arm but was standing next to a group of three other women, lifting the arm of one and resting it just so, placing his hand underneath the chin of another and angling her face a particular direction. Posing them.
Apparently finally satisfied, Jasper took four long strides backward, knelt, and brought up his camera from where it hung around his neck.
The box clicked several times. “You are beautiful, my dears,” Jasper said. “Absolutely radiant.” He stood again, shaking his camera gently. “These pictures are going to be striking. Unequivocally”—he turned and his gaze landed on Ju—“lovely.” Recognition sparked in his eyes immediately.
Worry that he may not see her among all the other women fled. Despite what other European men had told her, the light in Jasper’s eyes clearly showed he recognized her from the others.
He took two strides and stopped directly before her. “Good evening.” His mouth turned up in a small smile. It was different than the smile he’d had moments ago when he’d come around the corner. This one was smaller, granted, but more sincere, more—dare she use the word—intimate.
Seeing that smile, the way he looked at her, Ju wanted to trust him; wanted to know she could tell him of her dreams and desires; wanted to know she could walk with him down the street in the evenings and not worry for her safety; wanted to trust he saw her. But, Wei shu was right. She knew nothing about this man. She would be wise to keep her distance.
“Mr. Wimple,” Wei shu said, barely concealed frustration coloring her tone. “May I make you known to Miss Zhi.” Wei shu must have made introduction after introduction all afternoon, judging by the flat, quick way she said the words. “Zhi ju, may I make you known to Mr. Jasper Wimple.”
“It is a pleasure, Mr. Wimple.” Ju chose to curtsy since Jasper clearly was a Londoner instead of bowing over her hands as she would have had she been meeting someone else from Chinatown. It was a shame decorum dictate she would have to call him “Mr. Wimple” instead of “Jasper” as he’d originally introduced himself. Still, she could think of him as Jasper and no one would be the wiser.