by S. L. Lim
‘How should I know about that?’ Shuying threw up her hands. ‘Really, I have no idea what happens in that man’s brain. Maybe it’s never occurred to him that I have feelings too. Maybe he doesn’t believe in girls liking girls. Maybe he chooses not to ask because if he did, I could ask him some questions of my own. Like, what about that girl Audrey from his office? You should see the clothes she wears – I told him, the factory will become rich, using so little fabric. He says, Don’t be so suspicious, you have to have trust. Yes, trust – that’s all I have to go on these days, because he never tells me anything. Nobody does. How can I know? What he’s doing, where he is sleeping at this very moment?’
Yannie laughed. ‘My dear, you are living in a very, very fragile house of glass. You should not throw stones.’
‘No, it isn’t the same!’ Shuying spoke with such vehemence that Yannie regretted having teased her. ‘He can go wherever he likes, do whatever he wants. He can go away for the night without notice, and if I don’t like it, he will say: “I am working hard for all of us. You and the girls, you eat, but you don’t earn. I am working hard to keep us all alive!” You don’t understand, Yannie. You have not lived so many years with the one man. When you live with one of them, you know – married women sense these things.’ Shuying rolled away from her. ‘Anyway, what about you? Have you been seeing any other people?’
‘Just you,’ said Yannie. But she said it unconvincingly, so that Shuying would think she was lying.
‘Really?’ Shuying did not sound jealous at all. In fact, she sounded pleased. ‘Wow, you must have lots of self-control! I remember that from school – you were so good at studying. That’s why your marks were always so high.’
‘What? No, I don’t think so. They’re completely different parts of life.’
‘Well, don’t get excited. It was just a thought I had.’ As if in conciliation, Shuying touched Yannie’s foot with her toes. ‘I thought that was why you never ended up finding a husband. That it was deliberate, you wanted to stay away from men. So you could keep doing this thing. Being one of those women all your life.’
‘Finding a husband hasn’t exactly stopped you from being one of those women.’
‘Don’t lecture me, please.’ But she said it mildly, and then buried her nose in Yannie’s chest. Her hair brushed against the underside of Yannie’s chin, which felt ticklish, which set them both off giggling for a while. Then they were quiet, and she wondered if Shuying was nodding off. Her own consciousness seemed to be growing increasingly fuzzy. Just as she was beginning to drift away she thought she heard Shuying say, ‘I’m not angry with you, Yannie.’ She wasn’t sure if it was real or if the words were coming from inside her head. Sleep was weighing her down, making her limbs feel pleasurably heavy and relaxed.
*
She woke with Shuying shaking her shoulder, hard. It was still dark. She squinted at the glowing numbers on the alarm clock by the side of the bed.
‘You have to wake up, you have to get up now,’ Shuying was saying. ‘Kuang Fah is coming home early. His conference has been cut short. I have to tidy up the room before he gets home.’
Shuying gave her a lift back to her flat. They drove in silence. A couple of times, Yannie stole a glance at Shuying in the driver’s seat beside her. In the early morning darkness, Shuying looked like a different person altogether. She seemed tense and dried out, and Yannie knew there was no use trying to make her laugh, or starting a conversation. Nor would it be a good idea, when they paused at the traffic lights, to reach out and touch her hand.
Shuying stopped the car outside Yannie’s apartment but did not switch off the engine. Yannie hesitated, fingers hovering over the handle of the car door. ‘Can I send you an email?’ she asked. ‘I mean, when I get back to Sydney. Can I talk to you on Skype?’
Shuying made a gesture that was half a nod and half a shrug. ‘Of course,’ she said, not looking straight at Yannie. ‘Although I’m very busy. I have a lot of things to look after.’
She gave Yannie the barest of nods, indicating that it was time for her to get out. Yannie stood by the roadside, waiting for Shuying to circle back around the cul-de-sac. She hoped that she would see her and smile, maybe even raise a hand in acknowledgement. But Shuying drove past without even turning her head. The car rolled by with its windows up, impregnable. She stood there for a while after Shuying had gone, before beginning to drag her bag up the stairs to her apartment.
The air inside wasn’t exactly rancid, but it didn’t smell one hundred per cent healthy, either. There was no overt odour of mould, but you could tell there hadn’t been much recent circulation. During all the months she had been staying in Sydney, nobody else had been inside. She had made her bed before she left and there it was, a narrow little edifice with square white sheets tucked into the sides. She was fully awake now and didn’t feel like going back to sleep. Instead she played with her phone, plugging in her headphones and swiping through the playlists she’d uploaded from Kat. Songs about falling in love, about going somewhere else; moons, champagne and Paris. Signifiers that had nothing to do with her life but seemed much more real to her than this poky, smelly flat, where she feared the walls might close in at any time. Or worse, that they wouldn’t: that they would remain instead entirely inert, rendering no final hope that her life might change through supernatural means.
She turned the volume higher, ignoring the warning that it was damaging to your ears. The sound swelled within her body, filling her with overwhelming feel-good sadness. What was the point of other human beings, when you could experience this tidal wave all by yourself?
It occurred to her now that she should write something about it. She fiddled for a while, looking round her defamiliarised apartment, searching for paper and something to write with. At last, on the back of an A3 envelope, she wrote:
I kissed you lying on the grass
in the old sporting park.
You said you really ‘liked’ me
We met later in the dark
After school with your new boyfriend
when you offered me a deal –
Though much in love I did deduce
your pungent evening meal.
It really was true, she thought. She’d been too in love to dwell on it at the time, but Shuying’s breath had smelled quite bad that afternoon. She took a moment to doodle in the margin before continuing:
I got back home after midnight
Someone had on a CD.
And every single word they sang –
it must have been for me.
I played it all next morning
and throughout the afternoon.
I hummed it in the car park
though I barely knew the tune.
I played it getting back from work
I played it in the shower.
The neighbours must have gone insane
with every passing hour.
This was an example of artistic licence. You couldn’t write a poem without some compression of the timeline. Also, although the thing with the neighbours hadn’t exactly happened, it very easily could. If she wasn’t using headphones, anyone overhearing her might be driven mad by the onslaught of sad songs at this ungodly time. She chewed the back of her pen, and inscribed the final verse:
In the end I gave up listening
there were other things to do.
I was angry with the music –
because it wasn’t you.
She laid her pen down, exhausted. Yes, she thought, I have had my vision. In the emerging light, the entire trajectory of her affair seemed curiously insubstantial. She had spent so many years yearning after Shuying, for no purpose she could see. But maybe, it occurred to her now, the yearning was the whole point after all.
9
The Necessary Ruthlessness: I
‘He’s going to sell it! He’ll sell the whole bloody thing. My time is over. I’m a goner now, Yannie. It’s time-up for me. Kaput.’
Yannie fiddled
idly with the cord of her jumper, not really listening to Meng. His voice continued to crackle over Evelyn’s landline, sounding both agitated and, Yannie thought, rather tedious. ‘I just heard yesterday evening. Dr Stafford has given in, sold his last shares to Shan – now Shan holds the controlling interest. He can sell the whole company! I can’t believe I was so foolish. Took unnecessary risks – I should not have stayed for so long, should have worked for a larger company. More secure. That’s what happens when you want to be idealistic. End up as a dead weight – all these young sharks snapping at your feet. I …’
She let him go on, mixing his metaphors as he went. Too much emotion over too short a time had left her feeling cynical and drained. True, it was sad that the company Meng and Dr Stafford had founded was about to come undone, dispersed among shareholders into a nebulous cloud of profit. Still, she didn’t think it was as tragic as Meng seemed to believe. It was hard for her to imagine such a thing as a company, a corporation, existing in any concrete sense at all. There were only people, each with their individual aims and projects. They came and clustered for a while round an imaginary centre, before being forced out or drifting off, as the case might be. Dr Stafford had lost his marbles and/or his mojo long ago. It didn’t seem to matter very much whether his old business continued in a manner he would have liked.
‘… so, Yannie – what do you think?’
‘Um, yes … what?’ She tried to sound like she’d been listening all along. ‘Sorry, I lost you for a moment there. This line is not so good …’
Meng interrupted her. He was impatient, also defeated sounding. ‘I said, I am sure it will not come to very much. These things turn out all smoke and never fire. Still, I want to know when Dr Stafford signed his shares over to Shan. It just doesn’t make sense. All those years holding out, forgoing a considerable profit –’ even in her distracted state, Yannie noted the emphasis Meng put on the word considerable – ‘at the very last minute, would he change his mind? Literally on his deathbed, too late to enjoy the money himself? Maybe I am too cynical – a cynical old man! – but I cannot believe that we know the entire story. There must be something else which has caused him to go and make this strange decision …’
Against her better judgement, Yannie felt her interest being piqued. ‘I agree with you, Meng. It does sound strange. Still, you know how old people sometimes get strange ideas. Changes in the brain … or else their real personality comes out, after all of the filters have broken down. Maybe Dr Stafford had been wanting to sell all along but was too afraid of disappointing people.’ Disappointing you, she didn’t say. ‘Maybe he wants to leave an inheritance for his children.’
‘Maybe …’ Meng sounded dubious. Then his tone changed. He sounded shy, almost wheedling. ‘By the way, Yannie … I have a favour I must ask.’ He paused significantly. ‘I don’t want to impose … but it would put my mind at rest. It is too late to talk to Dr Stafford now, his mind is gone. But maybe you can go and talk to the girl. You know, the one who has been caring for him over these few months. Soon Yi, or Soo Yee, I think it was. You know, the Korean one.’
‘Her name is Soo Kim,’ Yannie said.
‘Yes, yes, I remember.’ Meng sounded impatient. ‘I need your help, ah! You must go talk … just ask some simple questions. Who else came to visit Dr Stafford at the home? Whether she noticed something strange, something unusual … Sorry, ah, I know this is not a nice position for you. I would speak to her myself, she seems like a nice girl. But I think she will be more comfortable if you are doing the talking …’ His voice trailed off.
‘I see,’ said Yannie. She glanced at the closed bedroom door. Evelyn was out doing some shopping. ‘Meng, please be straight with me. You think that Shan has got involved in some funny business, is that right?’
‘I did not say that.’
‘No, but you implied it.’
Meng went quiet. At last he said: ‘Forget it, ah. I’m very sorry, Yannie. I did not mean to offend. Your brother, I did not mean to accuse him, I –’
‘Not at all. But you are asking for my help. What makes me curious is this: why do you think that I would help you to find dirt on my own brother? I am not close to him, it is true, but he is still the closest relative I have. Why would I hunt for information that might damage my own family?’
Meng went quiet for a while. ‘I am sorry, Yannie. Again, I do not want to offend you. But … well, I have developed the impression there is no love lost between you and your older brother.’ He said the words no love lost as though reading from a book. ‘Well, we are not super close to all our relatives. But it is unusual … I have a feeling that the problem runs very deep.’
It was Yannie’s turn to go quiet. For a while she listened to the hum of cars, now higher, now lower, passing outside the window. The Doppler effect. ‘You guessed correctly,’ she said at last. ‘Deep is how I would describe it. I have … some reasons. I won’t explain them. It would take a while for me to go into it all, anyhow.’
‘There’s no need to excuse yourself. All families are different.’ Meng’s voice was unexpectedly kind. Yannie, to her surprise, felt the onset of tears. ‘That is what I have learned over my life, over the years. People feel what they feel, and we come in different shapes. There is no need to blame yourself for being different from the rest.’
‘No, but there is.’ As soon as she spoke, Yannie wondered if she really believed this, if she really felt guilt for despising her brother. Or was there merely a space where she felt remorse was meant to be? ‘Anyway, I think I understand your … intentions, to put it like that. I will arrange to speak with Soo Kim. Then we will see what comes out of it.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘Which, as you know, might be nothing at all.’
‘Of course.’ Meng sounded like he was in a hurry. It was as if he wanted her to get off the phone before she had a chance to change her mind. ‘I am very grateful to you, Yannie. Very grateful for this effort.’
‘Yes. Well, you should be. And remember – if I don’t find anything out, that would actually be ideal! If nothing untoward has happened, then Dr Stafford has not been exploited. My brother is innocent. There’s no need for us to do anything at all.’
‘Yes, of course.’ But Meng sounded doubtful. ‘I appreciate it, ah. I appreciate your help very, very much!’ He let out an uncertain little laugh. ‘Who knows, maybe you are right. Shan may turn out to be entirely blameless.’
‘I very much doubt that,’ Yannie said.
After which she made her way to the nursing home, where she was pleased to find Soo Kim just coming off her afternoon shift. She took the nurse out for dinner using Evelyn’s money, and the conversation which ensued was productive and long.
*
When she got back, she sensed immediately the house was no longer empty. It was already dark – it got dark early at this time of year – but Yannie could tell that Kat was home by the light spilling out from underneath her bedroom door. Without exactly knowing why, she went and knocked on it.
‘Come in,’ said Kat after a moment. Yannie found her sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, wearing headphones, one earbud visible beneath a tendril of hair, the other dangling by her shoulder. If the image had a title it would be Portrait of a Young Woman Sitting Carelessly. Yannie had a sneaking suspicion that the pose was for her benefit.
‘Hey, Auntie Yannie. How are you getting on?’
‘I’m well, thanks, Kat.’
‘Cool, yeah. Hey, I never asked when you got back, how was your trip? Whoops, that was a stupid question – you can’t really answer that, can you? I mean, you went over there for your friend’s funeral. So totally awkward!’ Kat twirled her hair, ill at ease with the subject. ‘Oh well, I guess I’ve started now. I mean, I kind of have to ask, because I sort of already did. So, how was your trip? I mean, apart from all the stuff that was happening with Jun.’
Yannie laughed. She noted Kat’s increasing tendency to comment upon her own conversation even as it was unfolding. ‘My t
rip was good, thanks. And no, I don’t feel awkward. Kat, I didn’t come to see you for any particular purpose. Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered you while you’re studying. I just wanted to say hello to you, that’s all.’
‘Oh, that’s nice.’ Kat smiled at her. When her dimples showed, she could be intimidatingly charming. ‘Anyway, you totally know I wasn’t studying. I kind of missed you when you were away, actually. The half-yearlies for English were really scary. I was totally sure I was going to fail, because you weren’t there … No, don’t worry about it. Like, your stuff was obviously more important. Honestly, I don’t even care. My parents go on and on, but they’re just exams. And Mum wanted me to tell you that I did really well. I came third in the year, which is, like, ten places higher than last time.’
‘That’s fantastic work, Kat. Congratulations.’
‘Yeah, well, congratulations to you, is what you should say.’ Kat rolled onto her side. ‘’Cos Mum thinks that it was all your doing. Which is probably right, tee-bee-haitch. I would never even have bothered to read that stupid book if you’d just left me alone.’
‘That’s very kind of your mother. But she’s wrong – it wasn’t all my doing, it was yours. You were the one who actually had to write the essay in the exam. And you were the one who did the thinking and the planning of your thoughts beforehand. All I had to do was supervise. In that sense, you’re one of the easiest students I’ve had to deal with.’
‘Thanks.’ Kat looked thoroughly bored with the conversation. By now, however, Yannie had worked out that this was her default expression and had ceased to be offended. ‘Yeah, I didn’t really like Mrs Dalloway at first. I mean, I just thought she was a braying society wife. You know, like Mum’s friends at the P and C. Stupid Beckies and Karens.’
‘Ha-ha! But Kat, please don’t be unkind to your mother. I don’t know if those women are really your mother’s friends, or if they’re more like colleagues to her. People she has to get along with in order to achieve a goal – even if she doesn’t like them very much.’
‘She doesn’t have to get on with them. She could just stop showing up to their stupid afternoon teas. It’s not like anyone would notice. I mean, it’s not like they’re inventing nuclear fusion in there, or something.’
