White Shanghai

by Elvira Baryakina

  “No, I won’t agree,” Nina objected. “They are doing the same as all religious fanatics from crusaders to puritans.”

  They argued with eyes sparkling. Daniel was a person who devoured books insatiably. He enjoyed the process of collective thinking; politics, philosophy and history excited him the most. The tea trade was just a profitable form of art that he practiced.

  “Fifty years ago almost all tea in Great Britain was imported from China,” Daniel told Nina. “Large companies would buy up the harvest without even testing it. Small traders deprived of their income smuggled tea trees to India; it’s much cheaper to ship from there. That is why China’s export has shrunk to just three percent of the world tea trade. But those three little percents include rare types of tea, which are impossible to grow anywhere else.”

  “Would you teach me to drink tea?” Nina asked.

  “Without a doubt.”

  Daniel knew so much about Chinese and Japanese art. He could talk for hours about special ways of manufacturing bone china, arranging gardens, ancient poetry and ink drawing. He was a person of such rare talents that Nina wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

  If she happened to run across Klim in the dining car or corridors, she would hastily avert her eyes and try to disappear as quickly as she could.

  She couldn’t bear wearing her favorite dressing gown with poppies, the one she’d worn the night Klim spent in her compartment. It was a piece of evidence that had to be hidden.

  Back from seeing Bernard, she would slip into her bed and lie for hours, listening to the click clack of the wheels.

  The elation of spiritual intimacy with Daniel would switch into a physical anguish. Nina wanted to be kissed; the urge was so sharp that it became painful.

  At present, with Daniel’s burned and blistered face, she couldn’t possibly imagine him as a lover.

  Nina surprised herself by how much she actually missed Klim, missed that deep enchantment when he would touch the nape of her neck with his lips. The mere thought made her heart plummet.

  If she called him, he would come, sit in the corner with his hands folded and burn her with those eyes under his fringe. Then, surely, he wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation, and everything would be wonderful again. But it’s wrong to use a person, and afterward, leave him for that amazing, wondrous Pan Bernard.

  She was ashamed of her duality. The burning passion for her husband tortured her, rendering her unable to sleep at night, but it was coupled with outrageous dreams of a stranger whose face would soon change back to the one in the photo at the Aulman’s office.

  Mr. Bernard is not free. He has a wife, Nina reminded herself.

  When the train arrived at the Shanghai North Railway Station, Nina was sure that Daniel had given her carte blanche for everything. During the two days on the road, they’d become friends who appreciated and understood each other.

  Pre-battle excitement filled her; she wanted to flaunt, to dance.

  Before parting, Daniel said, “I hope, we’ll see each other soon.” This sent goose bumps along Nina’s spine. She waved good-bye and walked away, swinging her hips slightly, knowing he was watching.

  And then she noticed Klim in the crowd. He understood everything. There was no need for her to feel sorry, to comfort him or to try to explain. It would only make matters worse. I’m not going to torment you any longer. I’m letting you go, she thought.

  3.

  Daniel didn’t call her the next day or even the week after. She read in the newspaper that there was to be a ball in his honor. She and Jiří weren’t invited. Had Daniel used her as a distraction to take his mind off unpleasant memories and make the train ride more fun?

  Nina met him once in a coffeehouse near a tennis court. He introduced her to his wife, Edna. A thin, freckled woman, with a tennis racquet under her armpit, she looked at her husband with loving eyes, and he held her hand just above the wrist. Nina hoped he would ask a waiter to set a big table, so that they could all sit together, but the Bernards left to eat on the terrace. Nina watched Daniel’s back through the open window; he didn’t turn once from Edna who was drinking wine and laughing at his jokes.

  Mrs. Aulman’s guesswork was, usually, absolutely spot on, and Nina started to wonder whether Tamara was right about Mr. Bernard. Was it true that he had figured out that she and Jiří were impostors, and that he had decided to keep quiet?

  Fury—not against Daniel, but against the all-knowing Mrs. Aulman—choked Nina.

  Tamara had raised her eyebrows and said, “Oh my God! You’re in danger. What should we do?” As if it was entertainment for her.

  Nina dryly cut her off, “I got into this mess and I’ll sort it out. I just please ask you not to tell a word to anyone.”

  Nina left with a bitter taste in her mouth. She sat on the leather seat of her newly bought Ford and ordered the chauffeur to drive her to Mr. Aulman’s office.

  “Missy, me take license for car,” he chatted. “Now, we can drive in all foreign concessions. But if Missy wishes to drive into Chinese territory, me need to get a different license.”

  Nina wasn’t listening. She was drained by anxiety. Daniel had rejected her. Turbulent passions, when lovers were ready to throw themselves off bridges, were for the young and wild, those who had nothing to lose. Nina was just a travel acquaintance for Daniel, definitely not a reason for him to ruin his and Edna’s lives.

  Nina watched Chinese signs through the windows of her car. Her tension was so powerful, it felt as if every house in this city had a bomb ready to detonate. The only thing left for Nina was to make Daniel fall in love with her. It was simply too dangerous to rely on his goodwill.

  This wasn’t the first time she’d fought for a man of high standing. Nina remembered her first love, Count Odintsov. His family and friends were horrified and predicted that the unequal match would bring him misfortune. But Nina defeated them all. She’d find a way to win Bernard, too.

  The chauffeur was murmuring a song in his own dialect, and Nina thought she could hear Da-niel, Da-niel in his words.

  4.

  Aulman’s office was filled with cardboard boxes.

  “What are they?” Nina asked.

  Tony looked confused. “Nothing special, really. … One of my clients asked me to be his executor, and as a reward bequeathed me this collection of Asian art.”

  “Can I have a look?”

  Aulman frowned, his cheeks turning red. “Maybe next time. You have an issue to discuss?”

  Nina made sure the door was closed properly. “Our wine traders ask to get not only champagne, but also whiskey and cognac. But according to our applications to Customs, it looks like my guests already have enough liquor to drown in.”

  Tony stroked his chin; his gold wedding ring sparkled on his finger.

  “I think it’s worth a try. The Customs people don’t care how much your guests drink, since we pay them their cut.”

  “But what if some patriot decides that we are depriving the Chinese treasury?”

  Aulman shook his head. “The entire returns from the Customs go to clear off external debts of the Peking government. Believe me, the Chinese will be only too happy if the English and French banks receive a couple of thousand less.”

  “So, I can tell Jiří to prepare new requests?”

  “Yes, go ahead.”

  Suddenly a gasp of wind opened the window, and its frame knocked one of the boxes, making it fall from the table. Tony jumped on his feet, but it was too late: Nina had already picked up a silk fan…picturing a man and a woman…naked…in bed.

  Dumbfounded, Nina looked at Tony. “What is it?”

  Aulman became red. “If I’d have known what damn Mansfield would give me, I would have never dealt with his business! It’s impossible to sell this garbage: I’ll lose my license or even be put in prison for distributing pornography. I cannot take it home either—I have children. Tamara says, “Just throw it away or burn it.” But how could I?
Some of the paintings are three hundred years old. They’re priceless antiques!”

  Nina passed Tony the fan, and he hurriedly hid it in a drawer.

  “If you want, I can take your boxes,” she said. “I can store them until you decide what to do with them.”

  Tony was taken aback, “You seriously mean it? Oh, thank you so much! But Tamara will kill me if she finds out I’ve led you astray.”

  “We won’t tell her anything, and I won’t even look at what’s in these boxes,” Nina promised. “You’ve helped me so much, and I owe you a lot.”

  5.

  Nina organized for a padlock to be put on her walk-in wardrobe. In the evening, porters dragged in the thirty-two boxes. The servants were told that this was her luggage from Russia.

  Bursting with curiosity, Nina let her amah Qin go home early and curtained all the windows. The fact Aulman had begged her not to open the boxes only increased her desire. “There are horrible things inside,” he’d said. “Mansfield was an insane sex addict. It’s what killed him.” Nina swore again she was as interested in these boxes as in a pile of old bricks.

  She carefully opened the door of the wardrobe—a burglar in her own house.

  A chandelier in her bedroom flashed and went out.

  “Damn!”

  The light from her night-lamp didn’t reach the wardrobe. Frustrated, Nina ran to the kitchen to look for a bulb in the pantry, but couldn’t find one. She tried to unscrew a bulb from another night-lamp, but it stuck fast. Losing patience, Nina dragged the night-lamp into her bedroom only to discover the cord was too short to reach the wardrobe.

  At last, she found a church candle in her chest-of-drawers and carried it to the wardrobe. Her match hissed when struck, illuminating the gray sides of the boxes. The flame started shivering on the candlewick.

  Nina opened the first box of forbidden treasures and found a silver-cloth case. Inside, there was a little ivory disk with a hole in the middle. A beautiful figurine of a naked woman was lying on a chrysanthemum with nine petals. Her body glistened slightly, eyes closed, and lips frozen in a smile.

  Then, there was a bracelet of thin porcelain bars, each depicting a peaceful landscape feature: a garden, a bridge, a pagoda. … A woman with her knees apart played with her gown belt running down her stomach like a snake.

  Nina opened a scroll; it seemed Japanese in origin. A lady dressed in a silky robe was lying on a mat; a samurai, the top of his head clean- shaven, was busy drawing thin columns of characters on her bare hip. A little note with a translation was attached to the scroll:

  I slept all night on your kimonos’ sleeve

  which kept your delicate aroma.

  Before the dawn, the curtain swayed.

  The footprints on the grass were hardly seen.

  The candle-flame trembled; the shadows came alive on the glossy paper.

  Nina sat on the floor. She was confused and embarrassed, but still wanted to study more of these meticulously depicted… Goodness! How to call them? Organs?

  Maybe it was a mistake to agree to store them here? What if police would suddenly come with a search warrant? The only choice she would have in this case was to jump out of the window, her head down.

  She pulled out a heavy album with copper corners. It was full of colorful prints that smelled spicy, probably due to the paints used. In the European tradition, a naked body was either sterile, as in case of antique gods, or maudlin, as in the case of wide-hipped duchesses crying out to be pictured in playful positions. Besides that, there were ugly fat women on shameless postcards. But in these boxes, Nina found something totally different—naturalness and simplicity saturated every image.

  The album slipped on the floor making one of the pages bent, but Nina didn’t lift it up. Thick and silken warmth slowly filled her chest. The artists who created these artifacts understood love that made your heart and soul tremble. They didn’t know how to depict bodies true- to-life, as the Europeans did, but they weren’t disturbed by imperfect proportions. They managed to show the delight of togetherness and passion, something that the educated Europeans had tried to hide from each other for centuries and even punish with the law.

  Nina covered her eyes with her palms. I want to have a lover. I need a man who’ll love me.

  In the biggest box she found a saddle with a sharp pole sticking from the middle. A previous owner supplied it with a note:

  This saddle was attached to a donkey’s back and an unfaithful wife put on it—to place the pole where the sin was done. Then they would set the donkey to gallop.

  CHAPTER 19

  CHINESE LEGENDS

  1.

  With exuberance and pomp, the whites of Shanghai were celebrating the Fourth of July, USA Independence Day. Under long awnings, long rows of tables with table spreads were laid out in the Public Garden. The square was covered with souvenir tents, smoky grills, merry-go-rounds and riding ponies decorated with paper flowers. A huge stage was prepared for the speech of the USA Consul General and the Chairman of the Municipal Council.

  The heat was so intense it felt like the air was trembling and flaking. Aromas of vanilla ice-cream and grilled meat, mixed with bitter smells of gunpowder, hung over the well-dressed crowd.

  Inside the shooting gallery, the heat was even more extreme; the space inside was bursting with deafening shots and hollers of encouragement. One direct hit, and another—Nina took the gun butt off her shoulder. “Bull’s eye.”

  The gallery owner looked awestruck, “Great job, Madam. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  Nina smiled and passed the carbine back to him. She walked through the onlookers, feeling with every nerve Daniel Bernard watching her.

  He had to be the first one to give in. Both Nina and Daniel knew that something was going on between them. They kept running into each other at gatherings of common acquaintances, or in the street, or at cafés. They would exchange formal greetings, but would never have a heart- to-heart talk. These signs and the deliberate distance Daniel kept gave Nina hope that luck was turning her way. It was clear Mr. Bernard was struggling to avoid her.

  Nina was in a constant state of utter excitement. She stopped visiting Tamara and didn’t care much about her parties; all her mental and physical powers were thrown into waging war against Mr. Bernard’s conscience.

  His world only partly crossed Nina’s: theater, sports events and some private gatherings, where the hosts were powerful enough to invite people like the Bernards and not too vain to refuse the company of nouveaux riches.

  Several times Nina met Edna. Mrs. Bernard was cheerful and kind-hearted, but at the same time, one could feel that parties, talks and friends were just a small part of her life. Edna was one of those lucky people who had found her goal early and knew how to achieve it. She passionately loved her job, not recklessly, like an empty-headed girl snatching everything that comes her way in the hope of fame, but with the solid and powerful love of a smart and responsible person.

  Nina was constantly comparing herself with Mrs. Bernard and had to accept the fact that there were many areas where saucy Ms. Kupina would never beat her. Edna had democratic views and didn’t care much about appearances and glitter. She dressed with the simple elegance and style of a woman used to all life’s comforts. One could feel a spirit of high class in her, but she wasn’t proud of it; quite the opposite, Edna didn’t even notice it, like the air she breathed.

  But nevertheless, Daniel Bernard was ready to flirt. Something forced him to look up whenever Nina entered the room. Unlike his wife, Nina didn’t have that innate sense of self-esteem, nor could she wear cotton blouses looking like a dame of a high society. Nina’s beauty, created with the help of fashion magazines, was blatant and even a little vulgar. In her quest to amaze others, she often went over the top, and unlike Edna, demanded respect, literally crying out for it.

  Nevertheless, Nina had one advantage over Mrs. Bernard: the advantage that tribal nomads have when suddenly taking over peaceful ci
ties. Edna wasn’t ready for war; she was sure her civilized manners and university education would protect her from trouble.

  Nina kept trying to convince herself that her success was inevitable but was tormented with doubts. Yes? No? Will it work out? The fact that Daniel might know her secret made her even more excited. But Mr. Bernard had to be the first to cross the line.

  His face had healed, but he turned out not as dashingly handsome as his image on the photo in Tony Aulman’s office. Some people looked better in portraits than in real life. But Nina had already decided she needed this calm and wise man in her life. She wanted to claim him in the same manner she claimed Tony Aulman’s boxes of erotic art. It was a primitive possessive instinct that urged one to drag all beautiful things into her house: a bright butterfly—to catch; flowers—to pick and put in a vase; a sunset—to paint; a pretty hat—to buy. She would do anything in her power just to have that feeling of admiration when she was by Daniel’s side.

  Nina gathered all available information about him. His education and elegance existed in harmony with his manly passions: weapons, sport and politics. He was a person who could appreciate and understand her, and at the same time, protect her.

  Daniel had been immensely rich for such a long time that little scams people did to grab their piece of the pie weren’t of interest to him. He didn’t consider it necessary to prove to others his excellence, except during friendly tennis matches. Nevertheless, he wasn’t bored and didn’t look for oblivion in wine or drugs. He was a patron and a researcher by nature, a person who was looking for knowledge and opportunities. Any woman with him would know she stood behind a fortress wall. Nina knew this was an illusion—life had taught her that she could only rely on herself, and fortress walls could collapse at the most inappropriate moments. But she was desperate and ready to fight, even for this illusion.

  Nina was waging her war in accordance with all the rules: she let her opponent know endless riches awaited him—all he needed to do was to take the plunge. The path would be clear, the gates would be open, and the citizens would meet their savior with rampant elation. The most important thing was not to scare him away and to be ready when he summoned up his courage.