White Shanghai

by Elvira Baryakina

  Her face was confused, not understanding.

  “What happened?” Klim asked.

  Nina slowly sat down on an ottoman. “They’ve done a search at my place…”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. Klim stepped towards her, wanting to hug her, but she didn’t let him.

  “Why are you here?” She was shaking; her fingers convulsively tore at the golden tassels. “You ran away—there’s no need to come back.”

  He sat down near her, took her hand. “I know you’re angry, but it’s not my fault.”

  Nina pulled her hand back and with all her power slapped his cheek. Her sharp nails slashed the skin.

  Klim stood up and left.

  2.

  A frying pan sizzling with oil was waiting on the stove. Ada was cutting eggplants. The plan was to fry them and eat them before either Mitya or the neighboring little boys, or the monster Seraphim appeared. The priest usually came in and straight off the mark began babbling about his boxing, as if anyone was interested. But, while he sat and talked he would devour all the sugar and drink all the tea.

  Ada’s tea was the best in the world—with her own portrait on the pack. Mr. Bernard gave her seven packs of it. Even though she didn’t even look like herself in the illustration, it was still very flattering.

  The hatch squeaked and Klim appeared in the room.

  “Holy Moly! Where have you been?” Ada exclaimed.

  He didn’t answer. Without taking off his shoes, he stomped into the room, moved Ada aside and looked under the table where the food supplies were usually kept. There was nothing there.

  “Ada, let’s get drunk, huh?”

  He had a pale face with smeared traces of blood on his cheek. Probably had a fight and out of despair will now eat all my eggplants, Ada thought helplessly.

  “You’d better go to Father Seraphim,” she said. “He’ll give you drink and receive your confession.”

  “And you? Not interested in my avowals?”

  Ada wiped her hands with her apron. “As if you can tell me anything new: no money, no job and no women love me.”

  “Well, at least you consider me a lovable and capable person.”

  “Capable of what?”

  “Well…the police think that I could be a wonderful nark. This is a quite heroic profession, by the way. Soon, they’ll be writing movie scripts about my great deeds.”

  “Don’t lie.”

  The oil was spluttering in the pan. Should I add the eggplants now or wait? Ada hesitated. Maybe Klim will get hurt and go away?

  “Ada, tell me, does anyone love you?”

  “Of course.”

  “What for?”

  “Not your business.”

  With a heavy sigh, Klim sat on a stool. “You know, I sometimes think that if we weren’t so stupid, we could have been happy together. But we need a moon from the sky. You’re dreaming about a prince charming who will take you to America on a white steamer. And I would want… okay, it’s not important. But like hell we won’t. We’re stuck in the House of Hope, because we belong to this world. And princes, princesses and steamers are not for us.”

  “I’ll pour oil on you now!”

  “Our life will end in domestic violence only fit for a note in the paper. A young lady of seventeen years of age scalded an inmate. The injured man died on the spot.”

  “You shut up now, or I’m not giving you any eggplants—is that clear?” screamed Ada.

  Inmate! Can’t you just hear it? He’s probably had another fight with his wife, Ada guessed. But what if Mr. Bernard finds out I live in the same room as Klim? What if he becomes jealous? He could just fire me.

  Though, I could hint that my living conditions are totally unbearable. Could he rent a new room for me? A better one? He probably could. But what if he wants to come over there? I mean, for the night? I need to think this through.

  3.

  Edna was on her way back to Shanghai as a winner: Zhang Zuolin, the warlord of Manchuria and now of Peking, had granted her an interview.

  But professional success did not bring joy to Edna: all that time, she’d thought about her husband. Night and day, she exhausted herself with hope: What if Daniel still loves me?

  Edna shared her train compartment with a women passenger; they were talking and drinking till midnight.

  “My husband doesn’t look at me,” Edna complained. “I’m like an empty space for him, but I’m scared to talk about it: what if he confesses that he has a lover or wants a divorce? I have a feeling that he’s bored. What should I do? Do I have to play the role of an annoying old doll till the end of my days?”

  Her companion poured her more whiskey. “Do you have your own money?” she asked.

  “What has that to do with it?” Edna asked, surprised.

  “So, it’s your husband who keeps you? You know, love, everything has to be paid for. You have a fair deal. He gives you money and in return wants you to pull the wool over his friends’ eyes, always keeping appearances that everything is well: he has a good wife, a nice house and the status of a successful person. He needs stability and calmness from you. If you break this part of the deal, he’ll take away your allowance. And it’s unlikely you’ll make ends meet on a reporter’s salary. In any case, you’ll have to forget about cars and yachts.”

  Edna dropped her head into her hands. It was true. In case of divorce, she wouldn’t be able to help her parents. She’d never dealt with documents, never hired anyone except Klim Rogov, never bought anything more expensive than bracelets with her own money. All the purchases were made by Daniel, while Edna continually wallowed in her newspaper job. She was totally ignorant of how money was made— not in theory, but in practice.

  “But, I’m young,” she sobbed. “Do I really have to forget about love?”

  “Sooner or later it’ll happen anyway, even if you fall in love with someone else. When you’re fifty, you’ll still want someone to admire you and kiss you, but this, unfortunately, is impossible. You’ll have to look for oblivion in children, religion or something else. A man has to fight for his woman and if there are no obstacles for him to overcome, he is not able to feel passion. A year or two—and ardent love grows into friendship or warfare, or complete indifference.”

  “But what about family happiness?”

  “Who said that it actually has to exist? Love is a fairytale with a sad ending. The wedding is the climax, not the end. The resolution will come later—with a faded look in your eyes, separation, betrayal or death of one of the characters in the play. Don’t be terrified by this: it’s a law of nature.”

  The lady left at one of the dimly lit stations. Edna soldiered on, alone in the compartment, crushed by the woman’s words.

  When the train arrived to Shanghai she was more dead than alive. In Peking, Edna had made a mental note, If Daniel doesn’t come to meet me, then it’s all over.

  But he came. She noticed him at once, despite him being strangely dressed in a coat with fur lapels, padded pants and high-strapped boots. On his head, he had a leather helmet, like an aviator.

  “Are you going to a costume party?” Edna asked, beaming. “You never liked them.”

  Daniel hugged her and kissed her cheek. “No…it’s just—”

  He asked her how things were in Peking and said Mr. Green had already called three times from the editor’s office. He was excited and happy—as if he’d really missed her.

  Daniel opened the door for Edna and sat in the driver’s seat.

  “You know the Chinese have set up an aviation school near Canton. They told me that all the instructors are Russian communists. They’ve already built an aviation maintenance depot and made several two-seater planes. Did I mention I bought an Avro?”

  “A what?”

  “An airplane. I got it two months ago planning to resell it, but while you were away I hired a pilot and flew with him over the city. Edna, you can’t imagine what it’s like! I’m taking lessons now. I want to learn to fly myself.”


  Edna’s heart plummeted down. Daniel’s excitement wasn’t for her. He carried on about engines, kerosene and the delivery of some special spare-parts…

  “Is it a military airplane?” Edna asked dryly. “How did you get permission to import it?”

  Daniel stopped short mid-sentence and frowned. “To be honest, I didn’t. The Russian Cossacks under General Glebov brought it over, unassembled. My friend, a former Canadian aviator, put it back together again. If you want, I can give you a ride?”

  “Did you forget I’m scared of heights?”

  Daniel’s eyes went blank. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Not thinking” means “not loving.”

  Edna entered the house and was greeted by the servants. She gave Brittany a music box she’d bought in Peking. Everything had turned to stone inside her. How could she live with Daniel under one roof? She didn’t think she could bear his indifference anymore.

  I would never love anyone else…I just wouldn’t be able to.

  Edna was going through faces and surnames in her head: Daniel had no equal. How would she ever feel close to anyone after him?

  He didn’t stay for dinner but advised her to take some rest, “You look exhausted.”

  For a long time, Edna sat in front of a dead fire-place.

  “Mrs. Bernard?” Ada came in, but Edna didn’t let her say a word.

  “Did they never teach you that’s it’s not polite to come in without knocking first?”

  Edna started screaming, accusing the governess of ingratitude. Blood rushed to her cheeks, her fingers were clenched; she looked like a witch. The poor girl was trying to protest humbly.

  Edna covered her face with her hands, “I’m sorry.”

  The governess disappeared. Edna watched her reflection in the mirror over the fireplace. I shouldn’t hate people. But hatred was the only feeling Edna experienced now. She was not like other happy and healthy women. Daniel had isolated her as they do with sick koi fish when they put it in a separate tub. It can open its mouth in a voiceless scream, beat with its fins in water and plead to go back to its dear pond—but no one will listen.

  CHAPTER 45

  KITSUNE, A FOX FROM JAPANESE FAIRY TALES

  1.

  Nina didn’t give Klim a chance. She didn’t even ask him where he had been or what had happened. The first thing he did was rush to see her; all this time, he had thought how to keep her safe and not bring her troubles by mistake. He was looking forward to the day when he would be able to come, hug her and feel the worst was over. But she’d turned him out. People usually take their anger out on those who are there to stay—those who always come back like a beaten dog.

  I’m sorry, my dear, but I’m not coming back. Enough is enough.

  After all, she trapped Edna’s husband as she’d wished. Ada told Klim about the fascist’s attack and how Nina ran to Mr. Bernard to wipe her tears. Ada didn’t know about the search of Nina’s storage place and Klim was not about to look for more details. If Nina chose Daniel, then let him sort out her business.

  Klim could not make up his mind what to do with Felix Rodionov. Do I really have to become a police informer? he pondered. It’d be good to leave Shanghai, but I do need the money. And what about Katya? I can’t leave her.

  When Felix summoned Klim to the police office, he decided to go. What’s the difference where to work? The most important thing is to arrange payment, save some cash and leave with Katya to Argentina. Buenos Aires is a great place: the very name of the city means fair winds. The most wonderful ladies walk there along splendid avenidas; great wits gather under the stain-glassed ceiling of café Tortoni, and people dance tango in the shade of flowering jacarandas.

  Klim stood in Felix Rodionov’s office with its glass door and electrical fan on the table.

  “So, what are you accusing me of?” he asked. “You’re threatening to send me back to Russia for my only sin—one trip in a car with Colonel Su? Don Fernando had no problems with you for that.”

  “You’ll also have no problems when you have a Mexican passport,” Felix sneered. “And while you don’t, I can write in the file that you’re Su’s first assistant. He won’t object: he’s already been deported.”

  No doubt, a bright future lurked in the police for Felix Rodionov.

  “Listen carefully,” he said. “There are Bolsheviks in the city who campaign for Soviet power.”

  Felix showed Klim a leaflet with a bushy whiskered Cossack on the cover. It invited the White Army soldiers to join a Russian detachment belonging to the army of the Christian General Feng Yuxiang who ruled the north-western provinces and constantly fought with his neighbors.

  According to Felix, the Chinese warlords had learned that the former White Army men were highly skilled warriors who knew how to operate modern weapons and equipment. But as soon as the Russian detachments started to appear in Chinese armies, the Bolsheviks took alarm. They saw danger in any organized immigrant forces: rumors flew that it was not as calm in the Soviet Union as the Bolsheviks wanted everyone to believe. If the White Army men could create a capable military force, who knows where this would lead? Russia could explode as it did in 1918 after the Czechoslovak Legions revolt.

  “The Bolsheviks are cunning bastards,” Felix said to Klim. “They affirm that they’re ready to forgive the White Army men and invite them to return to the USSR. But, surely, not for a picnic. As for the stubborn heads who don’t believe their promises, they came up with an even better idea. They actually help the Christian General to create the Russian detachments, but on condition that he sends them to the hottest front areas, so that the problem will sort itself out.”

  Felix told Klim he should pretend to be an officer who wants to find his way to the Christian General.

  “Make enquires; find out exactly who recruits the Russians. Bring me everything: where these people live, who are their friends and enemies.”

  “I’ve told you already, I’m not an officer,” Klim said. “I don’t know people like this.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Next week, one of the cinemas on Avenue Joffre is showing a documentary on the Romanov family. It will definitely be packed with the White Army boys.”

  “Did you arrange the viewing?”

  Felix laughed. “Keen wits is a big talent.”

  “If the police don’t pay me, my talent will dry up very quickly.”

  Klim haggled with Rodionov until he was promised a salary, complete with an officer’s uniform—from cap to boots.

  2.

  Hugh Wayer didn’t deny he’d sent the policemen specifically to ruin Nina’s calendars.

  “Sue me if you want,” he said to her, showing his yellow teeth in a derisive smile. “Our judge will be the British Consul General, my old friend. I’ll give you advice, my dear: disappear from Shanghai. I’ve already been too kind to you. I felt sorry for you and ordered the arrest of your attackers, so now you can leave with no problems. Sell off your possessions, head to Qingdao or Tianjin, and everything will be fine.”

  Again it was clear to Nina how little power she possessed compared with the true masters of Shanghai. Helplessness is a horrid feeling. You can patiently build up your business, but powerful people will come and smash everything to pieces. With Governor Lu and the Scholar at war, Nina thought fearfully, What if the conflict rolls into the city? What if looters plunder her storage? What if people are so ruined by war they can’t afford to buy her calendars?

  Well, the battles ended, and suddenly Russian bandits came for her.

  If Binbin wasn’t there, it’s scary to imagine what they could have done.

  But now the worst case scenario of all: the search.

  The calendar distributors had loved her goods. Having dispatched the first part of the press run, Nina immediately paid Binbin her money as her friend planned to start shooting the film. When Binbin found out about the police raid she cried the whole day. Nina was sure Binbin would bring back at least a half of the
sum. But Binbin preferred to have all the profit and leave Nina all the losses. They’d spent so much time talking about the studio, saying that it was their common baby and they were ideal business partners who would always be honest with each other. It all turned out to be a lie.

  “Why don’t you understand?” Binbin asked, surprised. “If I invest in your calendars and it doesn’t work out, I’ll never have another chance to shoot my film!”

  Nina said she totally understood.

  No one was going to stand up for her, not even Daniel. He was busy with his business interests, the war and service in the Volunteer Corps. She could see he was really concerned about her, but she felt that he didn’t need her problems. Sometimes it seemed to Nina that Daniel was friends with her only for intellectual entertainment and some sort of game with rules she didn’t understand.

  Nina asked him to restrain the fascists and he recommended she hire bodyguards. She described her conversation with Hugh Wayer, and Daniel calmly said that commerce always carries risks and no one was insured from falls.

  They sat in a bar as Daniel sipped his martini.

  “Let me know if I can do anything,” he said to Nina.

  He didn’t want to think how to help her situation. He was ready to do something easy: to call, to talk or to lend her money, but not to take on the burden himself.

  She was trying to press a piece of ice to the bottom of her glass, and failing.

  “Nina, you look too serious,” Daniel said. “Tell me, what makes you happy?”

  She threw back her shoulders. “Cranberry ice-cream with almonds is a good start.”

  “Not bad, indeed. Anything else?”

  “I love to have a morning cup of coffee on the balcony, wearing my white dressing gown.”

  “What else?”

  “When clerks in stores keep out of my way, I’m happy.”

  “That’s really a big ask.”

  Nina looked Daniel straight in the eyes—was he really trying to draw her away from her sad thoughts or did he simply not want to talk about serious matters?