Crimson China by Betsy Tobin

Author:Betsy Tobin [Betsy Tobin]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781907595332
Publisher: Short Books
Published: 2010-09-06T04:00:00+00:00

October 2004

On Saturday, Lili offers to take May out for the afternoon so that Adrian can finish some work. They hop on a 94 bus to Piccadilly Circus, then walk up Shaftesbury Avenue and into Chinatown. May clutches Lili’s hand tightly as they walk along the crowded pedestrian streets festooned with coloured lanterns. They wander in and out of several shops on Gerrard Street, then buy some rice noodles in a Chinese grocery. At one point, they pass an elderly Chinese woman in a light grey trouser suit who nods at them approvingly. Lili realises with a start that the picture they form is that of mother and child, and she has the sudden sense that she is masquerading. Almost without realising, she drops May’s hand, but a moment later she feels May’s small fingers seeking out her own.

“Do you like coming here?” asks May.

“Of course.”

“Is it like home?”

“Not really. But it is more like home than other parts of London.”

“Do you miss it?”

Lili considers this. She misses Wen. But does she miss home?

“Sometimes,” she answers. “But not today.” She is vaguely surprised by this truth.

“Sometimes I think I miss it,” says May elliptically.

“But… you were only a tiny baby when you left.”

“I know. But some days I wake up with a funny feeling. Like I should be somewhere else.”

Lili glances down at May. If Wen’s ghost is here with her on earth, then maybe the spirit of May’s mother is here also, pulling the child back to her homeland. But it is impossible to know if May’s Chinese mother is dead or living: the woman may well be mother to some other child by now. The thought makes her uneasy. May is too young to realise now, but the day will come when she will have to reconcile herself to this uncertainty.

She leads May over to a small Chinese restaurant and pauses in front of the window. Just inside is a counter with two enormous steaming vats of soup. A string of plump golden ducks hangs upside down in the window, their wings splayed open, their necks a dark pocket where the heads have been severed. Further inside Lili sees that the restaurant is crowded with mostly Chinese people sitting at square wooden tables. May stares at the window, her eyebrows knit together.

“Are you hungry?” asks Lili.

“I’m not sure,” May says doubtfully.

“What’s wrong?”

“The ducks. Why do they hang them in the window?”

“So we can see them. If you want to buy a duck dinner, then first you want to see it.”

“But… they don’t look nice.”

“Maybe not to you. But to all those people inside they do.”

“I guess so.” May turns away from the window. “Can we go somewhere else?” she asks tentatively.

“Of course. But this is the most authentic restaurant in Chinatown. Like the real China.”

“Could we go to McDonalds?” May asks.

They find a McDonalds on Shaftesbury Avenue and May orders a Happy Meal, delighting in the small plastic toy that comes out of the brightly packaged box. She

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