“That’s right, I’ve seen her in the cinema,” Lily Lou said in a voice like coarse sandpaper. She turned to the others. “Suzie’s quite right—she’s really pretty, Queen Margaret.” There was laughter and somebody corrected her. She looked rattled and said, “All right, I know what I’m talking about. I know, you needn’t tell me.”
Just then about a dozen sailors with red pom-poms on their hats came in from the quay.
“Sorry, Frenchee-boys,” Typhoo said. “No make-lovey tonight.”
“So sorry,” everybody said happily in chorus. “We’re busy. Closed for repairs. You better go somewhere else. So sorry. Good-by.”
However, the sailors did not go, and presently the manager limped up to intervene on behalf of the disgruntled clientele. The girls groaned and drifted sulkily back to work, except for Gwenny and Mary Kee who remained. The floor round the table was scattered with paper from the presents. On the table one present remained unopened: a handbag we had bought in Regent Street for Wednesday Lulu. But we had arrived too late, for a week ago Wednesday Lulu had made her decision and gone back to China—back to her mother, and rehabilitation, and work in a factory or the fields.
Suzie noticed a big blue and yellow bruise on the upper right arm of her former protegee, Mary Kee. “What happened?” she asked.
“Nothing, only a sailor who was a bit drunk,” Mary said.
“I told you before, you shouldn’t go with drunks,” Suzie said. “Some girls can manage drunks, but you get too scared.”
“It has been such a terrible month, we have not been able to pick and choose,” Gwenny said. “There have been no ships at all until yesterday.”
“I suppose I ought to go and work,” Mary said, and glanced nervously at two matelots at a neighboring table. “But I think they’re just drinking—they haven’t come to catch girls.”
“The fair one wants to catch a girl,” Suzie said. “You must learn to tell. He wants a girl but is scared. You must go and be very soft and nice.”
“Well, I’ll try.”
Suzie looked troubled as she watched Mary go off. I turned to Gwenny and said, “Gwenny, what about your sister? Isn’t she married yet?”
“No, the parents of the man she was to marry found out where I worked, so they broke it off,” Gwenny said. “But now we have arranged another marriage. It will be next month.”
“And then you’ll be able to give this up?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“No? But Gwenny, why not?”
“The man is very poor. I will have to help them. He will only marry on condition I help.”
Suzie said, “Gwenny, how awful! How terrible!”
“She’s getting married, that’s all that really matters.” She turned her face away. “Oh, look, there’s Mary going upstairs—wasn’t she quick? Well, I had better go and try my luck, though I hate leaving you.” She went and sat down with a French sailor, but twenty minutes later gave it up and came back, saying, “I couldn’t understand a word. He just pinched my arm and held up five fingers. I suppose he meant I was too skinny, and only worth five dollars. But I haven’t descended to five yet.”
Suzie said, “Gwenny, you know where that Canton girl lives? You know, Betty Lau—the girl I stuck with the scissors?” Gwenny nodded, and Suzie carelessly pushed over Wednesday Lulu’s parcel. “She can have this if she wants.”
“You mean you’ve forgiven her?” Gwenny said.
“Of course not,” Suzie said quickly. “I’d never forgive her—not for all those dirty things she said. I just don’t want that bag, that’s all. It’s just a nuisance. Isn’t it, Robert?”
“An awful nuisance,” I said, and gave Gwenny ten dollars to have Wednesday Lulu’s initials taken off and Betty’s put on.
“Well, I will go home now,” Gwenny said. “And I will come in the morning and see you off.”
It was after midnight. The juke box was silent. The only girl left was Minnie Ho, who was snuggling in the arms of a Frenchman. They got up and went out through the swing door.
“Poor Gwenny,” Suzie said. “I thought this evening, ‘Anyhow, Gwenny will be all right when her sister is married. That means two of us are all right.’”
“Come on, Suzie, let’s go to bed.”
We went out to the hall. Minnie and the French sailor came from the reception desk and followed us into the lift. Minnie took the sailor’s hat from his hand and nuzzled the red pom-pom, and then put the hat on her own head and entwined herself around his arm. She rubbed her cheek against his sleeve. “I love you,” she giggled, looking up at him. “Love—you understand ‘love’?”
The sailor glanced down at her cynically, a Gauloise drooping from his mouth.
“Bien sûr,” he said in a tone of “So what?”
“He doesn’t understand,” Minnie said: “You speak French, Robert? Tell him I love him.”
She watched his face as I told him. The sailor said with a bored cynical smile, “I know this innocent virgin sort. They’re the ones who always give you a packet.”
“What did he say?” Minnie said.
“He said you’re just like a little kitten, Minnie,” I said.
“To speak frankly, I prefer yours,” the sailor said, the Gauloise waggling in his mouth and his eyes narrowed against the smoke. “I like her bottom. I noticed as she entered the lift. She has a real peach of a bottom.”
“Among her other qualities,” I said.
The lift stopped at the third floor. The sailor watched Suzie as she went out. “Yes, that bottom really says something to me. It is a bottom for a connoisseur. You will exchange girls?”
“Nothing doing.”
“Never mind, I will take your girl tomorrow night. You can let me know your opinion of her.”
“It’s very high,” I said. “She’s my wife.”
“You can stuff that remark up the appropriate aperture,” he said.
I joined Suzie in the corridor. We walked along toward my old room. “What was that man saying?” she said.
“He wouldn’t believe you were my wife.”
“He looked cruel,” she said. “He had a cruel mouth.”
“He was very taken by you. He’s booked you for tomorrow night.” She gave me a quick half-frightened look, and I laughed and said, “Don’t worry, we’ll be safely in Japan by then.”
She was worn out after the long day and was asleep before I was in bed. I also fell off quickly, but later woke to hear her sobbing and uttering broken incoherent cries. I touched her gently to wake her. She thrust me violently away. “Who’s that?” she cried. “Who’s that?”
“Robert.”
She sobbed with relief and rolled against me. She buried her face in my neck. “I thought you’d left me. I thought you’d gone.”
“It’s all right, I’m still here.”
“My husband,” she said. “You’ve got the tickets?”
“Yes, they’re quite safe.”
“You’re sure? You haven’t lost them?”
I laughed and turned on the light. I reached for my wallet and gave her the tickets. She examined each ticket carefully, turning the pages, though she could not read anything except our names. She handed them back to me, but I told her she had better look after them herself, and she smiled and put them under the pillow. She lay hugging the pillow, her face peaceful again, and I kissed her and turned off the light.
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World of Suzie Wong : A Novel (9781101572399) Page 39
