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Authors: Sally Grindley
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to feel like a prisoner. Apart from the shopping trip on my first morning, I hadn’t
left the apartment. Mrs Chen filled every minute of my day with chores, appearing from nowhere time and again to check that
I was doing as she had asked and doing it properly. Her criticisms were endless and soul-destroying.
My only lifeline was Xiong Fei. His arrival three times a day lifted my despair. Mrs Chen clearly suspected as much, and kept
a careful eye on us, flirting more and more outrageously with him, while doing her best to make me look like a foolish little
girl. We laughed in turn at her arrogance and stupidity, laughter which kept me going from one mealtime to the next.
During that long first month, I saw neither Mr Chen nor Yimou. They left the apartment immediately after breakfast, and disappeared
when they returned in the evenings into the rooms that were out of bounds to me. I felt that perhaps Yimou was being kept
away from me deliberately. And then, on the fifth Saturday after Uncle had taken me to market, Mrs Chen informed me that from
the next day, and every Sunday onwards, I was to cook for the whole family, all three meals, and serve them as well.
‘Your uncle assured Mr Chen that you can cook, so now you can prove it,’ she said, smiling, as though setting a test in which
she was sure I would fail.
She gave me strict instructions on every aspect of what I was to cook that first Sunday, when it was to be served, how it
was to be served and what was expected of me. I was aghast. How could I possibly do it all on my own? My mind froze as she
spoke, unable to take in the bombardment of minute details. And then, worse – as she left the room, I realised that I was
bound to meet Yimou for the first time.
Xiong Fei’s arrival that Saturday evening did little to cheer me up. He talked me step by step through the preparation of
the dishes I was to cook, muttering angrily about Mrs Chen’s spitefulness in setting me such a task. He was also furious about
the fact that, without any warning or discussion, he was to lose a whole day’s work.
‘She just uses people, then spits them out when she no longer has any need for them. Now she asks you, an eleven-year-old,
to do the work of an experienced chef. She’s using you like a slave, Lu Si-yan. Have you written to your mother yet?’
I shook my head miserably. ‘I can’t tell her, I just can’t. She can’t take me back, Uncle made that clear. How can I worry
her when there’s nothing she can do to help?’
‘Then give me your uncle’s address and let me write to him. He’s your family. He should be looking after you.’
‘Uncle hates me. It was his idea to send me away in the first place.’
‘But how can you stay here, Lu Si-yan?’
‘I have no choice,’ I replied.
I have no choice, I said to myself over and over again in my room later that evening, as I gazed out of the window only to
discover that the river had disappeared once more beneath a thick blanket of mist. I had thought about escaping, just simply
running away, but I had no money, Mrs Chen was careful to keep the apartment door locked, and where would I go, anyway? My
future looked as bleak as the shadowland below, my determination to go home to my mother faltering when little more than a
month had passed.
Chapter Sixteen
Have to Kiss it Better
Sunday arrived with the wake-up bell at five-thirty. Though the sun had yet to rise, I could see that the mist and smog were
lying in wait for me, blotting out the river and its hint of hope. I dragged myself into my uniform, exhausted before a day
that promised me no rest had even begun. I looked in the mirror and wondered anew at who the girl standing there was. The
air of resignation had now overwhelmed her. You’re here to stay, the girl in the mirror seemed to say. There’s no point in
fighting it.
I was grateful to discover that Xiong Fei had chopped up some of the vegetables in advance
left the apartment. Mrs Chen filled every minute of my day with chores, appearing from nowhere time and again to check that
I was doing as she had asked and doing it properly. Her criticisms were endless and soul-destroying.
My only lifeline was Xiong Fei. His arrival three times a day lifted my despair. Mrs Chen clearly suspected as much, and kept
a careful eye on us, flirting more and more outrageously with him, while doing her best to make me look like a foolish little
girl. We laughed in turn at her arrogance and stupidity, laughter which kept me going from one mealtime to the next.
During that long first month, I saw neither Mr Chen nor Yimou. They left the apartment immediately after breakfast, and disappeared
when they returned in the evenings into the rooms that were out of bounds to me. I felt that perhaps Yimou was being kept
away from me deliberately. And then, on the fifth Saturday after Uncle had taken me to market, Mrs Chen informed me that from
the next day, and every Sunday onwards, I was to cook for the whole family, all three meals, and serve them as well.
‘Your uncle assured Mr Chen that you can cook, so now you can prove it,’ she said, smiling, as though setting a test in which
she was sure I would fail.
She gave me strict instructions on every aspect of what I was to cook that first Sunday, when it was to be served, how it
was to be served and what was expected of me. I was aghast. How could I possibly do it all on my own? My mind froze as she
spoke, unable to take in the bombardment of minute details. And then, worse – as she left the room, I realised that I was
bound to meet Yimou for the first time.
Xiong Fei’s arrival that Saturday evening did little to cheer me up. He talked me step by step through the preparation of
the dishes I was to cook, muttering angrily about Mrs Chen’s spitefulness in setting me such a task. He was also furious about
the fact that, without any warning or discussion, he was to lose a whole day’s work.
‘She just uses people, then spits them out when she no longer has any need for them. Now she asks you, an eleven-year-old,
to do the work of an experienced chef. She’s using you like a slave, Lu Si-yan. Have you written to your mother yet?’
I shook my head miserably. ‘I can’t tell her, I just can’t. She can’t take me back, Uncle made that clear. How can I worry
her when there’s nothing she can do to help?’
‘Then give me your uncle’s address and let me write to him. He’s your family. He should be looking after you.’
‘Uncle hates me. It was his idea to send me away in the first place.’
‘But how can you stay here, Lu Si-yan?’
‘I have no choice,’ I replied.
I have no choice, I said to myself over and over again in my room later that evening, as I gazed out of the window only to
discover that the river had disappeared once more beneath a thick blanket of mist. I had thought about escaping, just simply
running away, but I had no money, Mrs Chen was careful to keep the apartment door locked, and where would I go, anyway? My
future looked as bleak as the shadowland below, my determination to go home to my mother faltering when little more than a
month had passed.
Chapter Sixteen
Have to Kiss it Better
Sunday arrived with the wake-up bell at five-thirty. Though the sun had yet to rise, I could see that the mist and smog were
lying in wait for me, blotting out the river and its hint of hope. I dragged myself into my uniform, exhausted before a day
that promised me no rest had even begun. I looked in the mirror and wondered anew at who the girl standing there was. The
air of resignation had now overwhelmed her. You’re here to stay, the girl in the mirror seemed to say. There’s no point in
fighting it.
I was grateful to discover that Xiong Fei had chopped up some of the vegetables in advance
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