Crimson China by Betsy Tobin Read Free Book Online Page B

there is a remote look in his eye. What exactly has this man endured? she wonders.
    “It doesn’t matter,” she repeats slowly.
    He takes a deep breath and nods, just once.
    As she finishes sweeping up the glass, the telephone rings. The sound startles her. The Chinese man eyes her to see what she will do, and for a moment she is paralysed. The phone rings six times, seven, before she finally picks up the receiver.
    “Hello?”
    “Angela?” A male voice comes down the line. Tony, she thinks. Her boss.
    “Tony.”
    “Are you okay?” he asks. She glances at her watch: it is past eleven. She is two hours late.
    “I’m fine,” she says quickly.
    “So are you coming in?”
    “Actually, I’m not well.”
    “What kind of not well?” His voice is sceptical. Angie hesitates.
    “Some sort of food poisoning.” It is the first thing that comes to mind.
    “Food poisoning? From what?”
    She looks around the room uncertainly. Her gaze settles on the Chinese man, who is watching her closely.
    “Bad takeaway,” she says. “Chinese,” she adds. She has to stifle a laugh.
    “Well, I’m a bit snowed under here. Can you make it in?” He is asking, but his tone is one of irritation. “Angie?”
    “Yeah. Give me half an hour.”
    She goes back into her bedroom to change into work clothes. So this is how it goes, she thinks. The business of life. There is no stopping it. Here she is, going through the familiar rhythm of it all, dressing for work, combing her hair, making excuses to her boss. And yet things have altered, she thinks. There is a complete stranger on her sofa. She finishes dressing and returns to the sitting room, where the Chinese man is still watching TV. She takes up her handbag and keys and turns to him.
    “I have to go now,” she says. “To work,” she adds.
    He nods anxiously.
    “Okay.”
    “Make yourself at home.”
    He looks at her quizzically, has clearly not understood.
    “Stay,” she says then. “You can stay. I’ll be back later.” Their eyes meet for a moment. She taps her watch. “Later.”
    The Chinese man nods. “Okay,” he replies.
    She moves to the door, but at the last minute she turns back to him with a frown.
    “I’m not in a position to save anyone,” she says. “Least of all myself.”

September 2004
    It takes hours to walk from Hammersmith to Hounslow, but Lili wants to etch the journey in her mind, for she is searching for a way into Wen’s past. She is numb with disbelief that Jin was sleeping with her brother. How could she not have known? And why would Jin keep it from her? When she finally arrives at Jin’s flat, dusk is falling. Jin is already home from work, boiling dumplings on the small stove, and greets Lili unsuspectingly when she enters. Lili sinks down onto the bed and kicks off her shoes. She watches as Jin drains the dumplings and pours them into a small red bowl.
    “What did you do today?” asks Jin, sitting down beside her on the bed. In her hand she holds the red bowl and a pair of chopsticks. The smell of soy sauce and black vinegar fills the tiny room.
    “I went to Wen’s restaurant. In Hammersmith.” Jin turns to her with a frown. “Why?”
    “To find out more about his life here,” Lili replies. The silence stretches out between them. Jin stirs the dumplings slowly round in her bowl with the chopsticks.
    “And did you?”
    “Yes,” Lili says in English. The way she says it makes Jin freeze, her chopsticks halfway to her mouth. Lili looks around theroom, trying to imagine Wen in it. After a moment’s hesitation, Jin pops the dumpling into her mouth.
    “I walked home from Hammersmith. It took me three hours.”
    “Why didn’t you get a bus?” Jin asks.
    “Because I wanted to know what his journey was like,” she says slowly, “when he came home each night to share your bed.”
    Jin stops chewing and turns to her. Their eyes lock for an instant, then Jin sighs and sets the bowl down on the table.
    “Don’t stop on my