Spilled Water Read online

  I smiled back. I began chopping and shaping the vegetables, slowly at first because I didn’t want to make any mistakes, then more confidently when Xiong Fei started to whistle while he worked.

  ‘I bet you can’t chop onions without crying, Lu Si-yan,’ he said. ‘They make me cry so much I could flood the Yangtse with my tears.’

  I giggled self-consciously. ‘I’ll try,’ I said.

  He passed the onions to me.

  ‘No tears, then,’ he said. ‘I shall be watching.’

  I cut the top off a first onion, peeled back the brown skin, then sliced down to the root. As I chopped it all into small pieces, tears welled up in my eyes and one escaped down my cheek.

  ‘Oh, my poor Lu Si-yan,’ wailed Xiong Fei dramatically. ‘Please don’t cry. You will make my heart break. You failed the test, by the way. I will do the onions. You do the ginger.’

  I had more fun preparing that meal than I had had for a very long time, though we were careful not to attract Mrs Chen’s attention. Xiong Fei told me that he was an art student. He cooked for the Chens to pay his college fees, and had been with them for six months. He arrived, cooked, then left, three times a day, seven days a week.

  ‘Have you met their son?’ I couldn’t help asking.

  ‘Never. I’ve only met Mr Chen once, and that was when I applied for the job. Mornings and evenings I cook for five people, including the domestic, but I go before anyone sits down to eat. Lunchtimes I cook for two or three. If nothing else, little silk swallow, you will eat well while I am here.’

  ‘Have there been other servants?’

  ‘You have replaced an old housekeeper, Mrs Wu, who had been with the Chens for eighteen years. Two weeks ago, Mrs Chen told Mrs Wu, without any warning, that her services were no longer required.’

  That made me feel terrible. ‘Do you know why she was sent away?’ I asked.

  Before he could answer, Mrs Chen strode into the kitchen, looked challengingly at Xiong Fei, and asked me why the table hadn’t been set.

  ‘You are rather slow today, Xiong Fei,’ she said. ‘I hope you are not being distracted from your work.’

  ‘Not at all, Mrs Chen. Lu Si-yan and I are getting along very well,’ he replied, fixing her directly with his eyes.

  Mrs Chen was clearly unsure how to take this but, after a moment’s hesitation, she smiled sweetly and said, ‘Good, I’m glad to hear it.’

  She moved next to him, took him by the elbow, and continued, ‘I would like to make it quite clear, though, that I will not tolerate gossip. Is that understood?’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Chen.’ Xiong Fei and I both nodded.

  ‘Then I shall expect lunch to be ready in fifteen minutes’ time.’

  As soon as she had left the room, Xiong Fei picked up a knife and made stabbing noises towards the door.

  ‘Grrrrr, I hate her,’ he growled through gritted teeth. ‘Pawing me like a pet dog. If I didn’t need the money so much, I would tell her what I thought of her and her miserable job.’

  He turned back to his cooking, muttering angrily to himself. I went into the dining room to set the table. How many for, I wondered – two or three? If it was three, who else was coming? Was I supposed to lay a place for myself, even though I would not be eating with them? Perhaps I should lay only one place, for Mrs Chen herself. I returned to the kitchen, where Xiong Fei was putting on his coat, ready to leave.

  ‘I don’t know how many place settings to lay,’ I said, wishing so hard that he could stay.

  ‘Always two unless Mrs Chen is lunching out.’

  ‘But I’m to eat separately, she told me.’

  ‘The other place is for her mother-in-law. She lives here too.’

  ‘I haven’t met her,’ I said.

  ‘She’s a lovely old lady,’ said Xiong Fei. ‘Not at all like Mrs Chen. See you this evening, Lu Si-yan. Good luck.’

  I went back into the dining room and laid the table for two people. What should I do next, though? I wondered. Was I supposed to bring in the food? Should I wait to make sure that everything was all right?

  Too late. There were voices outside. The door opened and a tiny, frail old lady in a wheelchair entered the room. Behind her was Mrs Chen.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she snapped. ‘I thought I told you that you were to eat separately.’

  ‘I didn’t know if you wanted me to bring the food through.’

  ‘That should have been done already. I see I shall have to do it myself.’

  ‘Who is this pretty young child?’ interrupted the old lady, in a voice as smooth as silk. ‘Won’t you introduce me, Shumei?’

  The lips pursed, the eyes tightened. I could see that Mrs Chen was livid, though she tried to hide it.

  ‘Just our new domestic, Mother. She has a lot to learn, I am afraid.’

  ‘Ah, to replace dear old Mrs Wu. So sad that she decided to leave us after so many years. Tell me, child, what is your name?’

  Mrs Chen jumped in before I could reply. ‘Her name is Lu Si-yan. Now, Mother, if you don’t mind, she has work to do.’

  ‘Can you read, Lu Si-yan?’ the old lady persisted.

  Again, Mrs Chen replied for me. ‘She’s a peasant girl. Of course she can’t read. Why would she need to?’

  ‘I can read, Mrs Chen,’ I couldn’t help saying. ‘I learnt at school.’

  Mrs Chen turned on me. ‘How dare you contradict me!’ she spat. ‘Who do you think you are?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Chen, I just –’

  ‘I should like Lu Si-yan to read to me.’

  This was made as a statement by the old lady, not a request. Mrs Chen looked as though she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She took a deep breath, grabbed hold of the handles of her mother-in-law’s wheelchair and pushed her roughly to her place at the table. ‘Impossible,’ she declared. ‘Her day is full already. And now, if you don’t mind, I insist that she return to her work, while we sit down to eat before our meal is cold. Lu Si-yan, you may clear the table in half an hour. In the meantime, there is plenty of washing-up for you to make a start on.’

  She smiled sweetly at both of us, then hustled me out of the room before her mother-in-law could respond.

  Alone in the kitchen, I tried not to repeat my errors of the morning. I was exhausted. My head was pounding. All I wanted was to go home, for this nightmare to end. I finished cleaning a saucepan, sat down at the table, and put my head in my hands. This was to be my home. These people were my family. I rebelled against every notion of it. I wanted my mother. She would never willingly have let this happen.

  I must have fallen asleep, for the next thing I knew, Mrs Chen was slamming dishes down by the sink.

  ‘Half an hour I said, Lu Si-yan. Half an hour, then clear the table. That was forty-five minutes ago. Your lunch is cold, you will have to go without. When you have finished washing these dishes, you will find the sewing waiting for you in the study.’ She smiled then. ‘I’m sure things must improve.’

  ‘Please, Mrs Chen, please can I send a letter to my mother and tell her where I am?’ I begged.

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lu Si-yan,’ she replied. ‘Your mother doesn’t want you. That’s why you’re here.’

  I didn’t stop for a moment for the rest of that first day. When Xiong Fei arrived early that evening, he found me polishing silverware at the kitchen table. I was so relieved to see him that, to my embarrassment, I burst into tears. He closed the door and leant against it so that no one could come in, then called me over to him. I pressed my head against his chest and sobbed.

  ‘What’s the matter, little sparrow?’ he asked, stroking my hair.

  ‘Swallow, not sparrow,’ I spluttered through my sobs.

  ‘You look like a drab little sparrow at the moment, rather than a sleek and shiny swallow. Has the wicked witch been nasty to you?’

  ‘She won’t let me write a letter to my mother.’

  ‘Then write it and I shall send it for you,’ said Xio
ng Fei.

  ‘But you’ll get into trouble.’

  ‘Only if I’m caught.’

  A movement of the door handle made him grab my arm and pull me across the kitchen to the sink, where he turned on the tap and began to splash my face with water.

  ‘What were you – what on earth are you doing?’

  I swivelled my head to catch Mrs Chen staring at us in absolute astonishment.

  ‘Lu Si-yan rubbed her eyes and got silver polish in them. I’m just trying to wash it out.’

  ‘Are you indeed? How very kind of you, Xiong Fei.’ The voice purred but the lips were pursed. ‘Now perhaps you’d like to prepare our meal, which is what we pay you for.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Chen.’

  ‘As for you, Lu Si-yan – be a little more careful, will you, so as not to disrupt the rest of the staff?’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Chen,’ I replied, water running down my face from my sodden hair.

  As soon as she was out of earshot, Xiong Fei shook with stifled laughter.

  ‘Did you see her face, Lu Si-yan?’ Then, more serious, he said, ‘Don’t ever let her see you cry, little sparrow, for she’ll know she’s broken you then. Cry on my shoulder or alone in your room, but never in front of her.’

  I nodded and thanked him for his kindness.

  We worked in silence for a time. I could hear men’s voices drifting along the hall from distant rooms. Was I about to meet the boy I had been told I was to marry? Yimou? I wanted to ask Xiong Fei to take me away with him when he left so that I would never have to meet this Yimou. I crept into the dining room to set the table, then crept out again as quickly as I could, back to the safety of the kitchen.

  ‘Tell me to mind my own business if you like,’ said Xiong Fei, looking at me quizzically, ‘but how old are you?’

  ‘Eleven,’ I replied quietly.

  ‘And are they paying you to work here?’

  I glanced towards the door, praying that Mrs Chen wasn’t listening in on us, for I was sure that this constituted more than just gossip, and that we would suffer the consequences. I bit my lip and shook my head. How could I explain that Mr Chen owned me, that he had bought me from my uncle, that I was his to do what he liked with, that this was my family now?

  ‘It’s disgraceful,’ exploded Xiong Fei. ‘If they don’t pay you, they’re treating you like a slave. I shall tell them so. I shall put a stop to it.’

  I shook my head vehemently. ‘No, Xiong Fei, no. There’s nothing you can do. It’s not like that.’

  In my heart I felt it was worse than that. Far worse to be bought, shaped and moulded as the perfect obedient future daughter-in-law, than simply to work for no pay. Was that what Mrs Chen was doing?

  ‘Then what is it like?’ asked Xiong Fei gently. ‘Why aren’t you at home with your mother?’

  ‘She didn’t want me to go, I know she didn’t want me to go, but she couldn’t afford to keep me, not on her own, not once Li-hu was born and Father died and she was ill and there was the drought. Uncle said it was the only way for Mother and Li-hu to survive.’

  I could feel myself becoming tearful again. Don’t let Mrs Chen see you cry, I said to myself.

  ‘Mr Chen bought me from my uncle. When I’m old enough, I’m to marry their son. It’s been agreed.’

  Xiong Fei stared at me in total disbelief. ‘But you’re just a baby,’ he said. Then, as we heard footsteps, ‘Write that letter, Lu Si-yan. I’ll post it to your mother if it’s the last thing I do.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  A River of Hope

  I didn’t meet Yimou that evening, nor at any time during my first few days. I heard him sometimes – I think it was him – laughing rather too loudly, breaking something precious judging by Mrs Chen’s screams, knocking on my bedroom door then disappearing at the chilling sound of his father’s voice. I tried to conjure up a picture of him, but it was never flattering. I didn’t want him to be attractive, didn’t want him to be kind and caring – that way it would be easy to hate him. I wanted to go home. I would rather have remained unmarried for the whole of my life and be with my mother, than become the daughter-in-law of Mrs Chen.

  My room became my sanctuary. I dreaded leaving it in the morning, couldn’t wait to rediscover it in the evening. I spent hours standing by the window, watching the mist and smog spiralling lazily round the grey tenement blocks lower down, hoping for a gap to appear so that I could see beyond.

  Then, suddenly, after nine days, it cleared. Watery yellow sunlight seeped through the thinness of my curtains, rousing me before my wake-up bell. I leapt from my bed to gaze out on a brilliant blue sky. I was amazed to discover that, far below, beyond the graveyard of fallen dwellings, a river, much much bigger than the one at home, was leading its own life. Boats of all shapes and sizes were travelling up and down, ant-sized people were busying themselves on the shores, an endless stream of vehicles was carrying produce to and from the boats.

  In some curious way, that river spelled freedom. It came from somewhere and it went somewhere. It was my river of hope. As long as I could see it, the door of my prison would stay open.

  I was delighted to learn that Mrs Chen was going out that afternoon. She gave me an impossibly long list of duties, and locked the door behind her, but she couldn’t dampen my spirits. The moment she left I set about my work with renewed vigour. Even the thought of the criticism I would undoubedly suffer later couldn’t spoil my mood. I sang as I worked, all the songs I used to sing with my father. I danced around with a damp cloth, stood on the broom and seesawed backwards and forwards, polished the top of the sideboard with a flourish of the duster.

  A slight movement by the door caught my eye. I stopped, rigid with fright.

  ‘It’s good to see you enjoying your work, Lu Si-yan.’

  The voice as smooth as silk. Mrs Hong, in her wheelchair, eyes sparkling with amusement.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Hong. I hope I didn’t disturb you.’

  ‘Apology not accepted,’ said Mrs Hong. ‘There’s not enough singing in this household. Now, dear, what about making us a nice pot of tea, and then you can read to me.’

  ‘But what about the dusting, Mrs Hong? Mrs Chen said –’

  ‘I shall tell my daughter-in-law that the dust would wait but I wouldn’t. I shall be in my room, whirling around like an impatient child, so be quick with our tea so that I don’t exhaust myself.’

  She grinned at me mischievously before she spun away down the hall, leaving me holding the duster and wondering whether it would be all right to do as she asked. I decided that I couldn’t refuse her and would just have to hope that Mrs Chen would not be angry with me. Besides, I was curious to explore the other wing of the apartment, to discover where Mrs Hong spent her time.

  I walked carefully along the pale, intricately patterned silk carpet, carrying a tray with the pot of boiling hot tea and two delicate porcelain bowls, scared stiff that I might spill some. Mrs Hong heard the bowls rattle and opened her door wide.

  ‘Bless you, child. Come in and put the tray on the table, then sit yourself down while I pour. I’m not totally useless, you’ll see.’

  ‘Of course not,’ I said, feeling very awkward and shy. ‘I’m sure you can do lots of things.’

  ‘If I’m allowed to,’ grimaced Mrs Hong. ‘Everyone fusses so. My legs gave up years ago, and my eyesight’s not so good – which is why I would like you to read to me – but the rest of me is in full working order.’

  As if to prove her point, she picked up the teapot with a flourish, began pouring, then raised it to a great height above each bowl and lowered it again while pouring all the time. She didn’t spill a drop and looked thoroughly pleased with herself.

  ‘I’ll teach you how to do it one day,’ she said. ‘Now, drink up, then tell me a little about yourself. My son says that you are an orphan, poor child, and that your uncle has asked us to train you in domestic service until you are old enough to seek work for yourself. It was lucky for you that we had a vacanc
y. So strange that Mrs Wu left so suddenly.’

  I was dumbfounded. Not only had Mr Chen kept the truth about Mrs Wu’s departure from his mother, but he had lied to her about me. I wasn’t an orphan. How dare he say that my mother was dead? She wasn’t dead. I was going to go home to her. She wasn’t dead.

  ‘You are very pale, Lu Si-yan,’ Mrs Hong said quietly, ‘and so very young. I hope you will turn to me for help if you have any worries.’

  That silky voice wrapped itself comfortingly, coaxingly round me. I looked up at her kindly face and wanted to share everything with her there and then, but how could I, without revealing that her son and daughter-in-law had lied to her.

  I nodded my head and said simply, ‘I shall enjoy reading to you, Mrs Hong. I used to read to my father.’

  ‘Then after we have finished our tea you shall choose a book and we shall begin.’

  I asked Mrs Hong about the river down below. When she told me it was the Yangtse, I realised just how far from home I had travelled.

  ‘What are all the fallen buildings?’

  ‘That’s the old town,’ Mrs Hong explained. ‘It is being pulled down because it is liable to flood when the level of the river rises. This new town was built and everyone was rehoused here. Those who farmed the land further down have been given jobs in factories.’

  ‘My father was a farmer,’ I said. ‘He would have hated to work in a factory.’

  ‘So should I, my dear, so should I. But the youngsters, well, many of them prefer it. It can be easy money compared to toiling on the land.’

  ‘I like to be out in the fresh air,’ I said, and wondered when I might be allowed to go outside and explore.

  The books in Mrs Hong’s room, unlike those in the study, were dog-eared and inviting. I chose one at random, sought Mrs Hong’s approval, then sat down to read. I was nervous at first, certain I would not be up to the task, but as the story unfolded and Mrs Hong nodded encouragement, closing her eyes to listen more attentively, I relaxed and began to lose myself in the story. Page after page went by, my voice the only sound to break the peace.