Both men stood up as she came towards them.
‘This is my daughter, Lei An,’ Father said in Mandarin. ‘Lei An, this is Captain Shen and Lieutenant Lin. They have been sent here especially from China to liaise with General MacArthur’s headquarters.’
So, Lieutenant Lin, I finally know your name, Mirabel thought. She didn’t want to meet his gaze so she extended her hand first to Captain Shen.
‘I am very pleased to meet you,’ she said. But suddenly fearing that Lieutenant Lin might mention the encounter with the American soldiers, she flashed him a warning look. He nodded and smiled as he took her hand.
The young soldier was just as good-looking close-up as he had been from a distance at Margo’s twenty-first, and in the shadows of that night in Chinatown. He had perfect white teeth and dark gentle eyes. She felt a rush of heat come to her cheeks and turned away.
Father stood up. ‘I’ll leave Lei An to look after you while I see how dinner is coming along.’
‘No, Father, I’ll go,’ Mirabel insisted. ‘Mei Lin might need help.’ She wasn’t ready to be left alone with these two men. It wasn’t that talking to the opposite sex scared her anymore. She had overcome that shyness when she began working with Jock and Murray. But talking to those boys never caused her heart to race.
‘This is a perfect time for you to practise your Mandarin,’ Father said, pushing her towards his armchair. Then, turning to Captain Shen and Lieutenant Lin, ‘She’s been learning for almost ten years now. Feel free to correct her pronunciation.’
Father walked out of the room, leaving Mirabel feeling more embarrassed and awkward than ever.
‘Did you just come home from work?’ Captain Shen asked, waiting for Mirabel to sit down before taking a seat. He had a square face, close-cropped hair and a dimple in his chin.
Mirabel didn’t know the difference between a captain and a lieutenant, but Captain Shen had one more stripe on his uniform so she guessed he must be higher in rank.
‘I’m a map-maker,’ she replied, thankful that he had started up a topic of conversation.
‘That’s a very important job. A highly skilled job.’ Captain Shen seemed impressed.
Mirabel looked at him, surprised. He had spoken in English this time, with a clearly discernable Australian accent. ‘I don’t understand … your English is – ’
‘Perfect?’ Captain Shen chuckled. ‘Yes. It fools people every time. I was born in Sydney, but left when I was twelve to go to school in China. I’ve lived there ever since.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m an Aussie, just like you. My name’s Frank, by the way, and that’s JJ.’ He looked at Lieutenant Lin. ‘We’d better speak Chinese. JJ can barely understand a word of English, except for WC.’ He laughed.
‘WC? What’s that?’ Mirabel asked.
‘It stands for water closet or toilet. It’s the first English word you learn in China.’
She smiled. ‘I guess it’s a pretty important word to know then.’
‘Sorry, my Engrish not good,’ Lieutenant Lin said.
Captain Shen turned. ‘Your Engrish is bloody awful, JJ.’
It was meant to be a joke but Mirabel disliked his mocking tone. Without thinking, she jumped to her soldier’s defence. ‘That’s all right, my Mandarin is awful too.’ Then, realising how that must have sounded, she said, ‘I didn’t … I mean … your English is …’
‘Ni jiang de bu cuo. You speak very good Mandarin,’ Lieutenant Lin said politely, a smile in his eyes.
Jimmy appeared in the doorway, saving Mirabel from further embarrassment. He was holding a homemade rifle. ‘Wow! Soldiers.’ He stared from one to the other as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.
‘This is my little brother, Jimmy,’ Mirabel said.
‘Have you killed anyone yet?’ Jimmy asked, awestruck.
Captain Shen laughed. ‘We’re not that type of soldier, Jimmy.’ He beckoned the boy over. ‘Do you want to be a soldier when you grow up, mate?’
‘Yes, sir. I’m a good fighter.’ Jimmy put his rifle against his shoulder and saluted.
‘I’m sure you are.’ Captain Shen ruffled his hair.
‘What sort of soldiers are you then if you don’t shoot people?’ Jimmy sat on the ground in front of them.
‘Well, we send messages … between our two governments,’ Captain Shen replied.
Jimmy’s eyes lit up. He leant forward and whispered, ‘In secret code? Are you spies?’
‘Aiya!’ Father walked into the room at that moment. ‘Soldiers are not allowed to discuss their work. Go and wash your hands. Quickly. It’s dinnertime.’ He turned to his guests. ‘He’s too inquisitive for his own good. Chi fan le. Dinner is served, gentlemen.’
Jimmy ran up the stairs, stopping on the landing to turn and fire imaginary bullets down at Mirabel. She smiled as she walked in Lieutenant Lin’s footsteps through the hallway to the kitchen. ‘JJ,’ she murmured to herself.
Mirabel helped Mama and Mei Lin put the dishes on the table and sat down opposite Lieutenant Lin. There were eight dishes and a soup, far more food than was necessary, but this was the Chinese way. In order to honour your guests you needed to provide a banquet. And that’s what Father had done. He must think really highly of these men to have used up months of food ration coupons, thought Mirabel.
Mama fussed over the two soldiers as if they were her own sons, insisting they eat more, filling their bowls with food. Mirabel watched her mother laughing and chatting, seemingly so well and untroubled. But Mirabel knew she had to take each day as it came and not expect a miracle.
Her soldier was the quieter of the two, not brash and outspoken like his commanding officer. Every word was measured and considered.
They discussed the situation in China – the devastation caused by the occupying Japanese army, the famine, the starvation, the civil war between the Kuomintang government of Chiang Kai-shek and the Communist-led armies of Mao Tse-tung. It was mostly men’s talk, but Mirabel was happy to sit back and listen. She watched him as unobtrusively as she could; between the hand to mouth, between the turn of heads, between the agreements and disagreements. She watched him as time slowed and nothing else existed. And in one of those pauses she realised that his eyes were on her, that his eyes were looking into hers.
‘Lieutenant Lin?’ Father said.
He turned away and the moment was broken. Mirabel found she had stopped breathing.
‘Lei An, are you all right?’ It was her mother, looking at her with a puzzled expression. She rubbed Mirabel’s arm.
Mirabel could not doubt what she had felt. Her soldier was a man of the world. He had travelled through China to Australia via India and Singapore. He had been chosen by his government out of hundreds of soldiers to come to Australia. Could he possibly be interested in a girl from Carlton who had barely travelled ten miles out of the city?
After dinner, Father brought out the Chinese rice wine, Mao Tai.
‘All right, malo jai, monkey boy,’ Mama said to Jimmy. ‘Bedtime.’
‘Can’t I stay up a bit longer?’ Jimmy pleaded.
Father looked at his son sternly. ‘You have school tomorrow. Hurry up and do as your mother says.’
Mama pulled Jimmy from his chair and walked with him out of the kitchen. In the doorway she turned. ‘Lei An, come, leave the men to do their talking.’
Reluctantly, Mirabel stood up. She allowed her eyes only the briefest brush across Lieutenant Lin’s face as she said goodnight. Was that disappointment she saw?
Out in the hallway, Father caught up with her. ‘Lei An, I need to speak with you.’
She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Yes, Father?’
‘The Kuomintang Association has asked me to take Captain Shen and Lieutenant Lin out on Saturday, to show them around Melbourne, but I have so much work at the market I can’t find the time. I wanted to ask Lola but as usual she’s run away from her duty. Therefore, I would like you to take them instead.’
‘But Captain Shen is from here. Surely
he – ’
‘Captain Shen is from Sydney and he doesn’t know Melbourne. I need you to help me out.’
The thought terrified her and yet she suddenly realised this was her chance to see JJ again.
‘Of course, Father. I’ll do it.’
‘Good girl.’ He put his hand on her shoulder then walked back into the kitchen.
She smiled as she climbed the stairs. If Father knew how she felt about Lieutenant Lin, he would never have asked her to do him this favour. In his eyes she was still his little girl. And for once she would let him think that way.
Lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, she listened to the soothing sounds of the men playing a Chinese drinking game, which involved counting fingers and making rhymes. How quickly things can change, she mused. Yesterday he was just a fading dream. Today, once again, he was the centre of her thoughts.
‘JJ,’ she sighed, feeling the softness of his name on her tongue.
A Practised Conversation
Mirabel and Rose sat up at the high marble counter in Hilliers Soda Fountain on Collins Street, drinking lime spiders.
Mirabel had just told Rose about her unexpected meeting with Lieutenant Lin. Rose’s eyes sparkled.
‘Come on,’ Mirabel begged. ‘I can’t handle the two of them alone. You have to come.’
‘Really, Belle, you make them sound like two wild dogs that you have to control.’ Rose laughed. ‘You know I can’t get out of the tennis match. It’s the semi-finals and we’re the hot favourites. The team would kill me. Sorry.’
Rose didn’t look a bit sorry. In fact, she looked like she enjoyed leaving Mirabel trapped as a tour guide to two strange men.
Mirabel sulked, propping her chin on one hand, chasing a drop of condensation down the side of her glass with her finger.
‘You told me yourself they’re both easy to talk to,’ Rose said, laying a reassuring hand on Mirabel’s arm. ‘And if you forget your Mandarin, you can always speak English.’
‘It’s not that so much, Rose.’
‘So what is it, then?’ Rose rolled her eyes.
‘You’re not even trying to understand.’ Mirabel flushed. ‘Oh, it’s easy enough for you – you always know what to say to boys. You don’t find yourself shaking in your boots just thinking about it.’
‘Come on, Belle, that’s not fair. I do understand. Look, it’s no big deal. Relax and talk to him as if he’s your best friend. Pretend he’s Jock or Murray. Have fun. Tease him a bit.’
Mirabel sighed. ‘Where will I take them?’
‘How about the beach? Beautiful water, lovely white sand, plenty to look at if you’re lost for words. And a very romantic setting, especially if you stay to watch the sunset. When it gets a little chilly, you sit there shivering … and he takes his jacket off and throws it around your shoulders. He then puts his arm around you, tentatively at first, but you snuggle in and he …’ Rose waved her hand. ‘Well, you can imagine the rest.’ She smiled.
‘I won’t be alone with him, Rose. Captain Shen will be there too, remember?’
‘Oh yeah, too bad.’ Rose reached inside a bowl and picked up a lump of sugar. ‘Here, let’s practise a conversation you might have if you were alone with him. Pretend this is your soldier. Howdy there, Mirabel,’ Rose said, jiggling the lump up and down on the table. ‘What’s a purdy laady like you doon in a playce lack this?’
‘Rose, he’s not an American,’ Mirabel laughed.
‘Oops, sorry. When I think soldier I always think American. All right. Here we go again.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Hello, Mirabel, what’s your favourite thing in the whole world?’
‘Well, my painting, I guess,’ Mirabel replied. ‘I like designing clothes.’
‘And where do you like to go … you know, on the weekends?’
‘If it’s a nice day I like to go to Luna Park, ride the rollercoaster. Um … and what about you? What do you like to do in your spare time?’
‘I like to go dancing so that I can meet pretty girls like you. Oh, and I like collecting, um … spiders … nice big hairy ones.’ Rose looked into Mirabel’s face. ‘Has anyone told you your eyes are like two beautiful moons?’
Mirabel shook her head, trying to hold back a giggle.
‘And your mouth … it’s like a … a delicate lotus bud. And your nose … . your nose … let’s see now. Yes, that’s it. Your nose is like a pumpkin just before it has been plucked from the vine.’
‘A pumpkin?! Hold on a minute …’
Rose grinned. ‘I just call it like I see it, little lady.’ She changed back to her normal voice. ‘Okay. Now, it’s your turn.’
‘Well, JJ. May I call you JJ?’
‘Uh huh.’ Rose pretended to look attentive.
‘I have a question for you.’ Mirabel cleared her throat. ‘Do you have a girlfriend back home in China?’
‘No.’ Rose shook the sugar cube vigorously, and paused. ‘I have a wife and twelve kids. But I would like a girlfriend. Are you free? Probably not. With your pumpkin nose, there must be lots of boys after you.’
Mirabel tried to suppress a grin. She was enjoying this. She looked down at her hands and said coyly, ‘Not a one, sir. I’ve been saving myself and my pumpkin nose for you.’
Rose sat up. ‘I think you have it, girl! Congratulations. You are my very first graduate.’
‘Graduate of what?’
‘Of the Rose Singer School of Art … the Gentle Art of Conversation, that is.’ She popped the sugar cube into her mouth. ‘Mmm …’ she said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She shivered and a lock of blonde hair fell across her face. ‘Your soldier boy tastes delicious. A bit square though.’
Be Brave, Belle
Mirabel saw him, leaning against the balustrade on Princes Bridge, shading his eyes against the sun.
No longer in uniform, and dressed in a white shirt, dark-brown V-neck jumper, and grey pants, Lieutenant Lin looked every bit the dashing young man she had painted in her mind. Crossing the road, she repeated Rose’s words: Be brave, Belle.
Lieutenant Lin stepped away from the railing when he saw her.
‘Ni hao, hello,’ he said, smiling.
‘Ni hao,’ Mirabel replied, feeling a little embarrassed. But something was wrong – where was Captain Shen? She began to panic.
‘I came to tell you that we cannot accompany you today,’ Lietenant Lin said. ‘Captain Shen has an urgent assignment, so I’m afraid we have to cancel. Perhaps we can go some other time.’
Mirabel hesitated, almost relieved to get out of it. Then a voice within her said, Hold on, you coward! Now is your chance!
‘That’s too bad,’ she said, smiling up at him. ‘I had a wonderful program all planned out for us.’
She could see he had been about to say goodbye, about to turn away and leave. But now he hesitated, looking back at her with a half-smile.
‘But of course, if you are too busy …’
His eyes crinkled. ‘Yes, I am busy.’ He looked out over the river, and ran his hand through his hair, before looking back at her. ‘But I would hate to disappoint you.’
Huh! she thought. You have a fine opinion of yourself. She waved her hand casually. ‘Oh, but I am only doing this because my father ordered me to. It is my duty.’
Lieutenant Lin laughed.
Mirabel reddened, but she found herself enjoying the banter. So this is how Rose talks to boys.
Lieutenant Lin bowed to her and said, ‘Well then, dutiful daughter of your father, do your duty and take me on this wonderful program.’
Mirabel was now feeling quite daring. ‘That’s all well and good, but as this is my program, I am the leader and you must obey me and follow my orders.’
He bowed again, deeply. ‘I would follow you anywhere.’
‘Have you ever been to St Kilda?’
They sat side by side on the wooden seats of the tram just inside the doorway. Click clack, click clack, the wheels beat out a tune. On this beautiful autumn day, wit
h the canvas blind rolled up, the gentle rocking motion of the carriage and the warm breeze on her face, Mirabel was lulled into a wonderful sense of calm.
They trundled down the wide tree-lined boulevard of St Kilda Road.
‘That’s where I work,’ Lieutenant Lin said, pointing to a series of large bluestone buildings.
Mirabel had passed the Victoria Barracks many times but had never realised that much of the planning for the war was being staged behind those sturdy grey walls.
‘What sort of work do you do?’ The question was out before she could bite it back.
Lieutenant Lin glanced around then shook his head. ‘A little later perhaps.’
‘Sorry, I forgot.’
Even though they were speaking in Chinese and there was no one around who looked the slightest bit Asian, she knew they had to be careful. The phrase ‘loose lips sink ships’ popped into her mind.
To cover her embarrassment she asked, ‘Where were you born, Lieutenant Lin?’
‘In a small village upriver from Shanghai. My family is very poor – there is only a dirt floor in our house. But we were happy until the Japanese came.’ A shadow passed over his face, and then he shook his head and smiled at her. ‘And you should call me JJ. It’s short for Jin Jing.’
‘All right, J … J. Why don’t you call me by my English name, Mirabel?’
She watched as he mouthed the syllables. ‘Mi … ra … bel. I like that name.’
‘So did you leave the village a long time ago?’
‘Three years back, when I was eighteen.’
Mirabel looked at JJ. He was just a peasant boy. Only three years ago he had been living in a poor village in a house with a dirt floor. And here she was thinking all along that she wasn’t worldly enough. She smiled.
‘What are you thinking?’ he asked.
She shrugged. ‘Just that you have come a long way since then.’
‘You do what you have to, especially when you’re poor.’
Actually, when she thought about it, he was amazing. To rise to his position – a liaison between the Chinese and Australian governments – in three years was incredible.
Little Paradise Page 7
