K by Hong Ying

Author:Hong Ying [Ying, Hong]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780141965345
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2013-03-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

February 1936. Snow had fallen heavily all night; now it reflected brightly on buildings and passers-by. Lin and Julian, in a horse-drawn carriage, drove through streets neatly lined with tall poplars; Julian in a black coat and hat, Lin in a dark-red cloak and lighter skirt. Her hair was tucked into a hat and the frosty air gave her cheeks a youthful glow.

Julian had been writing a poem throughout the previous evening and early that morning. He had left the desk littered with crumpled paper. The winter vacation was drawing to an end and it was time to go back to Wuhan. Lin was about to arrange their return train tickets.

Julian was relieved. She was aware that they had to return to Wuhan, and had started making preparations. Had she not broached the matter herself, he would have been loath to mention it. It was easier to pretend that their days together would never end, that the responsibilities that awaited them in Wuhan no longer existed.

Her red outfit against the whiteness of the snow struck his eyes painfully.

On the street some children played with a top-heavy snowman, which began slowly to collapse as they passed by. Acton’s emotional declaration that Peking was the last paradise on earth came to Julian’s mind. The carriage turned the corner and entered a broad side street. They spotted a street performer with a performing monkey dressed in a bizarrely coloured jacket.

‘You were born in the year of the Monkey,’ Lin had teased him a few days before.

‘I suppose that means I’m always up to no good, does it?’

‘Well, you won’t change the character you were born with,’ she replied. Then, as if to herself, ‘Born in the year of the Monkey…Eight years younger than I am!’

He wondered what she meant by that, and could not think of a reply. He had no idea what lay beneath her words. During their stay in Peking she had been so happy and relaxed, and so loving, with the exception of their one gloomy outing to the theatre. However, they had not talked about the future. This was beginning to bother him. Without knowing what her feelings were, he could not bring himself to start the discussion. Was she waiting for him to take the initiative? He had no way of knowing. One thing was clear: she was capable of complete silence. The more she wanted to talk about something, the more savagely she would repress it.

He realized that the Chinese cleared only their own courtyards and gateways of snow. Against the outer walls of the courtyards in the alleyways it piled up in drifts and buttresses, while at street level passers-by left deep, black footprints. The thaw was setting in. A hawker waded past them through the wet snow, selling sticks of candied wild fruit. Lin stopped their driver and bought two, handing one to Julian. He took a bite. The fruits were tangy and sweet. Lin smiled, saying she knew he would like them. Peking was the best place to get them.

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