And the Bride Wore Red (5 page)

‘Don't you want to know what I have to say?'

‘I probably already know what you're going to say,' she observed with a faint, mirthless laugh.

‘You guessed? I don't see how you could have done.'

‘Let's say I have a nose for some things. Call it my cynical nature.'

‘I don't think you're as cynical as you try to pretend.'

Her temper flared. ‘And I don't think you know anything about me.'

He stared. ‘All right, don't jump on me. I'm harmless, I
swear it. I'll believe that you're anything you say—hard, cynical, unfeeling…'

‘Ruthless, unforgiving, cold-hearted,' she supplied. ‘I'm glad you understand.'

‘I wish you hadn't said unforgiving,' he observed gloomily.

‘Well, I did say it. I never give second chances. Now, if we've got that settled, what were you going to confess? Something unforgivable, obviously.'

‘Well, you might think so.'

Her dismay increased. ‘All right. I'm listening.'

‘It's like this. When we met in that clinic—I wouldn't normally be there. I work in another part of the hospital, and I'd just started a vacation. But a friend who does work in the clinic got a stomach upset and had to take time off. They were short staffed, so I filled in.'

‘But what's so terrible about that?' she asked, trying to think straight through the confusion of reactions storming through her.

‘The thing is, he was back next morning. I did try to persuade him that he needed another day off, but he got an attack of heroics and insisted on returning.' Lang sighed and added distractedly, ‘A man can't trust his friends for anything, not even to be ill when he needs them to be.'

‘What on earth are you—?'

‘So when I came to see you next day I wasn't working in the clinic any more, and strictly speaking you were no longer my patient.'

Olivia stared at him in mounting disbelief. ‘Are you saying…?'

‘That I lied to you,' he said mournfully. ‘I approached you under false pretences, claiming that you were my patient when you no longer were. I deceived you.'

Olivia met his eyes and drew a quick breath at what she
saw there, a look of suspiciously bland innocence that masked something far from innocent. This man wasn't worried about being in trouble. He was inviting her into a conspiracy.

‘You're overdoing it,' she said wryly.

‘No, honestly! On the pretext of medical privilege, I gained access to your body.'

‘To my—? Oh, yes, you saw my bare arm, didn't you?' she said sardonically. ‘How could I have forgotten that? Shocking!'

‘It was a little more than your arm,' he reminded her. ‘If you want to report me to the medical authorities, well, I'll just have to accept it, won't I?'

‘And if I kicked your shins you'd just have to accept that, wouldn't you?' she said sweetly.

‘It would be my just deserts.'

‘Don't get me started on your just deserts or we'll be here all night.'

‘Would we? Tell me more.'

‘Let's just say that you're a devious, treacherous—I can't think of anything bad enough.'

‘I'll wait while you think of something. After all, it was shocking behaviour on my part.'

‘I didn't mean that. I meant just now, making me think—'

‘What?'

She pulled herself together. ‘Making me think it was something really serious, instead of just fooling.'

She could barely speak for the confusion of relief and fear that warred in her: relief that he was a free man, fear that it mattered so much. She tried to bring herself under control lest he guess the truth.

Or did he already know? He was watching her intently but cautiously, as though trying to discover something that was important to him.

‘I wanted to see you again,' he said simply. ‘And that was the best excuse I could find.'

The storm died down. The relief was still there, but now tinged with laughter. The world was bright.

‘Well, I guess I'm glad you thought of something,' she admitted.

He took her hand. ‘So am I.'

‘I'm still annoyed with you, but I forgive you—on a purely temporary basis.'

‘That's all I ask.'

‘So what is your job in the hospital?'

Lang shrugged. ‘I fill in a lot, do the stuff nobody else wants.' He squeezed her hand gently. ‘Sometimes I get a good day.'

He didn't pursue the subject and she was glad. The attraction between them was growing slowly, delicately, and she liked it that way. Any sudden movements might be fatal.

He was looking down at her hand, rubbing his fingers against it softly, and she had the feeling that he was uneasy again.

‘What is it?' she asked. ‘What terrible crime do you have to admit now?'

‘We-ell…'

‘Be brave. It can't be worse than you've already confessed.'

‘The fact is there have been some repercussions to the other night. Wei, the great blabbermouth, went home and sounded off to my family, telling them all about you.'

‘But he doesn't know anything about me—unless, of course, you've told him, which would be another abuse of medical privilege.' She considered him, her head on one side. ‘You really are proving to be a disreputable character. Interesting, but disreputable.'

‘This time I plead not guilty. Anything I know about you—which is frustratingly little—I keep firmly to myself. Wei's method is to invent what he doesn't know. The family's curiosity is aroused, and now there'll be no peace until I take you home for dinner.'

‘Let me get this straight. You want to take me home just to save yourself from nagging?'

‘That's about the size of it.'

‘It's got nothing to do with wanting my company?'

‘Certainly not,' he said in a shocked voice.

‘It wouldn't mean that you were glad to be seen with me, liked me for myself, and maybe, I don't know…?'

‘Maybe thought you were the prettiest girl I'd ever seen and the nicest I'd ever been out with?' he supplied helpfully. ‘No, nothing like that. Don't worry.'

‘You relieve my mind,' she said gravely.

He raised her hand and brushed his cheek against the back of her fingers.

‘I think we should stay level-headed,' he said. ‘I wouldn't want to offend you by indulging in the kind of sentimental behaviour I know you despise.'

‘That's thoughtful of you. On the other hand, your family are going to expect us to seem at ease with each other. We mustn't disappoint them by being too distant.'

He nodded as though giving this judicious consideration.

‘True. We need to get it just right.'

Before she knew what he meant to do, he leaned across the table and laid his lips softly against hers.

It was the briefest of contacts. No sooner was his mouth there than it was gone again. It might never have happened, yet it went through her like lightning, making nonsense of logic and control, leaving her changed and the world a different place.

She tried to smile with careless unconcern, but her heart was thumping, and there was no way she could seem indifferent. To hide her confusion she looked down, but when she raised her head again everything was more confusing, because now she could see that Lang was startled too.

‘That should be about right,' she managed to say.

She was lying. It wasn't about right, it wasn't nearly enough. One whispering touch and something inside her had sprung to life, making her tingle with frustration. She wanted more, and so did he. His expression had told her that. Yet here they were, two well-behaved dolls, bound and gagged by the constraints that they had set themselves. Only a moment ago it had seemed amusing.

‘So what can I tell the family?' he asked, and she wondered if she only imagined that his voice was shaking.

‘I'd be delighted to accept their kind invitation when I return from my travels.'

‘You're going away? When? Where?'

‘I'm taking a cruise down the Yangtze.'

‘But not tomorrow?'

‘No, in three days but—'

‘Fine, that gives us plenty of time.' He whipped out his mobile phone and dialled hurriedly. ‘Better do this before you can change your mind. You're a very confusing person. I never know where I am with you.'

After the days she'd spent longing to hear from him—which she now admitted to herself she had—this left her speechless with indignation. While she was still trying to think of something bad enough to call him, he began talking into the phone.

‘Hallo, Aunt Biyu? Olivia says she'd be delighted. Yes, yes.' He looked back at Olivia. ‘Do you like dumplings?'

‘I love them,' she said promptly.

‘She loves them, Aunt Biyu—What's that? All right, I'll ask her. Do you prefer meat or vegetables?'

‘I'm happy with either.'

‘She's happy with either. Oh, yes, that sounds nice.' To Olivia he said, ‘Shrimp and bamboo, OK?'

‘Yes, splendid,' she said, slightly confused.

Lang turned back to the phone. ‘Olivia is thrilled with shrimp and bamboo. Tomorrow evening?' He raised an eyebrow and Olivia nodded. ‘Tomorrow's fine. Goodnight.'

He hung up. ‘Aunt Biyu is married to Uncle Hai. She's preparing you the best shrimp and bamboo you ever tasted, and the whole family is helping. You're a very important guest.'

She knew enough about Chinese culture to recognise that this was true. In the old days of poverty, dumplings had been the staple food, and had subsequently acquired a place of honour. To lay out a banquet of dumplings for a guest was to pay a compliment.

She began to wonder exactly what Lang had told them. As he drove her home later, he was smiling.

At her apartment block he saw her to the main front door, but didn't try to come any further.

‘I'll collect you at six o'clock tomorrow evening,' he said.

‘Yes. Goodnight.'

‘Goodnight.'

He hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward suddenly and gave her the briefest possible kiss before hurrying away.

Olivia was thoughtful as she entered her apartment. Nothing in the world seemed clear or simple, and it was because of Lang, a man she'd met only three times.

Reaching into her bag, she felt something soft and silky, and realised that she'd forgotten all about Ming Zhi. The little panda regarded her severely, reminding her that she was a sensible woman who had renounced love in favour of logic.

‘Oh, shut up!' Olivia said, tossing her onto the bed. ‘I don't care if he did give you to me. You're a pain in the whatsit. And so is he.'

That night she slept with Ming Zhi in the crook of her arm.

N
EXT
morning she went online to Norah and was rewarded by the sight of the old woman waving and smiling at the camera.

‘So, what are you going to do with your holidays?' she asked. ‘Did you book that cruise?'

‘Yes, I'll be off in a few days.'

‘And?' Norah probed, for Olivia's tone clearly hinted at something else.

‘I've met this madman…'

She tried to describe Lang. It wasn't easy, for he seemed to elude her even as she spoke. Calling him a madman was the truth, but far from the whole truth, and she was still discovering the rest.

‘He can make me laugh,' she said.

‘That's always a good beginning.'

‘And he gave me this.' She held up Ming Zhi. ‘When we went to the zoo.'

‘Now, that looks like getting serious. When are you seeing him again?'

‘This evening. He's taking me to have dinner with his family.'

‘Already? My dear, he's moving very fast.'

‘No, it's not like that. One of his relatives saw us together and the family got curious. He's only taking me home to shut them up.'

‘Is he a wimp, that he can't stand up to them?'

‘No, he's not a wimp,' Olivia said, smiling and remembering how Lang gave the impression of being quietly in command, except when he was being jokingly deferential to make her laugh. ‘He pretends to be sometimes, but that's just his way of catching me off-guard.'

‘And does he often succeed?'

‘Yes,' Olivia admitted wryly. ‘He does.'

‘Then he must be a very clever man indeed. I look forward to meeting him.'

‘Norah, please! You're going much too fast. Lang and I have only met a few times. I'm not looking for anything serious. We'll enjoy a brief relationship and then I'll come home. In fact—'

‘Don't you dare start that again. You stay where you are, and
live
your life. Don't throw it away.'

‘All right, I promise,' Olivia said. She was slightly startled by Norah's intensity; a kind of anguish almost seemed to possess her.

‘You spend as much time with Lang as you can. He sounds nice. Is he good-looking?'

‘Yes, he's good-looking?'

‘
Really
good-looking?'

‘Well…'

‘On a scale of one to ten?'

‘Seven. Oh, all right—eight.'

‘Jolly good,' Norah said robustly. ‘Now, go and buy a really nice, new dress. Splash out, do you hear?'

‘Yes, Aunt,' Olivia said meekly, and they laughed together.

After a hasty breakfast she headed out to the shops, mean
ing to choose something from the Western fashions that were now available in Beijing. But before long her eye fell on a
cheongsam
, the traditional Chinese dress that was so flattering to a woman with a good figure. The neckline came modestly up to the throat, and there was a high-standing collar, but it was also figure-hugging, outlining her tiny waist, flared hips and delicately rounded breasts in a way that left no doubt that her shape was perfect.

It was heavily embroidered and made of the highest-quality silk, at a price that made her hesitate for half a second. But when she tried it on and saw what it did for her she knew she was lost. When she combined it with the finest heels she dared to wear, the effect was stunning.

She wondered if Lang would think so. Would he compliment her on her appearance?

 

He did not. Calling for her punctually at six, he handed her into the car without a word. But she'd seen the way his eyes had lingered on the swell of her breasts, so perfectly emphasised by the clinging material, and she knew he had remembered their first meeting. His expression told her all she wanted to know.

She settled down to enjoy herself. They were headed for the
hutongs
; she'd always been fascinated by these streets that had surrounded the Forbidden City for hundreds of years. A plentiful water supply had dictated the location, and the
hutongs
had always flourished, colourful places full of life and industry. Shops sprung up, especially butchers, bakers, fishmongers and anything selling domestic necessities. Change came and went. Other parts of the city had become wealthier, more fashionable, but the
hutongs
' vibrant character had ensured their survival.

Olivia had sometimes shopped there. Now for the first
time she would see the personal life that lay behind the little stores. A
hutong
was a street formed by lines of quadrangles, called
siheyuans
, each
siheyuan
consisting of four houses placed at right angles to each other. Here large families could live with the privacy of their own home, yet with their relatives always within calling distance.

As they drove there, Lang described his family's
siheyuan
.

‘The north house belongs to Grandfather Tao. He's the centre of the family. Meihui was his kid sister and he remembers her as if it were yesterday. He says I remind him of her, but that's just affection, because I don't really look like her at all. Uncle Jing and his wife also live there, with their four children.

‘One of the side houses is occupied by Uncle Hai, his wife and their two younger children. The one opposite is the home of their two elder sons and their wives. And the south house has been taken over by Wei. He's Jing's son, and he's living in the south house in preparation for his marriage.'

‘He's the one I saw the other night? Married? He looks far too young.'

‘He's twenty, but he's madly in love with Suyin, the girl who sang in the restaurant, and she seems to feel she can put up with him. Apart from him there are several other children, ranging from five to twelve. They're wonderful kids. Villains, mind you.'

‘As the best youngsters always are.'

‘Right,' he said, gratified.

‘But how many people am I meeting?' she asked, beginning to be nervous.

‘About eighteen.'

‘Wow! I'm getting scared.'

‘Not you. You're a dragon lady, remember? Brave, adventurous, ready for anything.'

‘Thank you. But that big a family still makes me a bit nervous.'

‘Eighteen isn't so many. There are at least another dozen in other parts of the country, and probably plenty more I have yet to meet.'

‘Is that where you're going? You said something about travelling soon.'

‘Something like that. Let's talk later. I must warn you that you're about to walk into the middle of a feud. Uncle Jing is furious with Uncle Hai because Hai's wife Biyu is cooking you dumplings. Jing thinks the privilege of cooking for you should have been his. He's a fishmonger, and also a wedding planner.'

‘I've heard of that before,' Olivia said, much struck. ‘It's because the words for fish and prosperity are so alike that fish gets served at weddings as a way of wishing the couple good luck. So fishmongers often plan weddings as well.'

‘That's right. Hai does very well as an arranger of weddings, where of course he sells tons of his own fish. The trouble is he thinks he's entitled to arrange everything for everyone, and he's very put out about the dumplings.'

His solemn tone made Olivia burst out laughing.

‘I promise to be tactful,' she said.

‘Have I told you you're looking beautiful tonight?'

‘Not a word.'

‘Well, I'm being careful. If I said that deep blue does wonderful things for your eyes you'd find me very boring.'

‘I might,' she said in a pensive voice. ‘Or I might decide to forgive you.'

‘Thank you, ma'am, but I feel sure you'd censure me for insulting you with that old-fashioned romantic talk. Heavens, this is the twenty-first century! Women don't fall for that kind of clap-trap any more.'

‘Well, I wouldn't actually say any of that out loud,' she said, laughing.

‘But you might think it silently, and that would be much worse. I'm wary of your unspoken thoughts.'

‘But if they're unspoken you can't possibly know what they are,' she pointed out.

‘You're wrong. I'm starting to understand the way you think.'

‘That's an alarming prospect!' she observed.

‘For which of us, I wonder?'

‘For me,' she said without hesitation.

‘Are you more alarmed at the thought of my getting it right, or getting it wrong?'

She considered this seriously. ‘Right, I think. I don't mind you getting it wrong. I can always tread on your toes.'

‘Good thinking.'

‘But what woman wants to be understood too well by a man?' she mused.

‘Most women complain that men don't understand them.'

‘Then they're being foolish,' she said with a little smile. ‘They should bless their luck.'

They both laughed and the moment passed, but she was left with the sense that beneath the banter they had really been talking about something else entirely. It was a feeling that often assailed her in Lang's company.

They continued the journey in companionable silence, until at last he said, ‘Before we get there I'd better warn you of just how enthusiastically Wei has prepared them for you. I've explained that we barely know each other, and he mustn't run ahead, but he—Well…'

‘Didn't take any notice?' Olivia finished sympathetically.

‘And how!'

‘All right, I'm prepared.'

‘Grandfather Tao and Grandmother Shu have learned a few words in English, in your honour. The rest of the family speaks English, but those two are so old that they've lived a different kind of life. They've been practising all day to offer you this courtesy.'

‘How kind.' She was touched. ‘I know I'm going to love your family.'

At last she found herself in streets that she recognised.

‘Weren't we here the other night?'

‘Yes, that restaurant is just around the corner. Just a couple more streets, and here we are. Home.'

The car drew up before the north house of the
siheyuan
, and Olivia drew an astonished breath as she saw what looked like the entire family gathered to meet her. They spilled out of the doorway into the street.

In the centre stood an old man and woman: Grandfather Tao and Grandmother Shu. On either side of them were two middle-aged men—the uncles, their wives and children. Everyone was watching the car's arrival with delight, and two of the younger children dashed forward to open the door and provide Olivia with a guard of honour.

‘My goodness!' she exclaimed.

Lang took her hand. ‘Don't worry,' he whispered. ‘I'm here, Dragon Lady.'

He slipped his arm protectively around her as they neared the family and it divided into two groups, with the oldest, Grandfather Tao and Grandmother Shu, at the centre. He took her to them first.

‘Our family is honoured to meet you,' Tao said, speaking in careful, perfect English, and his wife inclined her head, smiling in agreement.

‘It is I who am honoured,' Olivia said.

Tao repeated his compliment. The words and manner were
formal but his and Shu's expressions were warm, and their eyes followed her when she moved on.

Strictly speaking they were the host and hostess, but because of their age and frailty they performed only the most formal duties, delegating anything more energetic to the younger ones.

Although brothers, Hai and Jing were totally unalike. Jing was a great, good-natured bull of a man, tall, broad and muscular. Beside him Hai was like a mountain goat next to a gorilla, small, thin and sprightly, with a wispy beard and bright eyes.

As the elder, Hai was introduced first, then his brother, then their wives—starting with Biyu, wife of Hai, and Luli, wife of Jing. They too greeted her in English, which she appreciated, but Lang immediately said in Chinese, ‘No, she speaks our language. I told you.'

They repeated their greetings in Mandarin and she responded accordingly, which made them smile with pleasure.

‘Mrs Lang—' Olivia started to say, but there was a burst of laughter from several Mrs Langs.

‘You can't say that,' Hai's wife declared merrily. ‘There are so many of us. Please, call me Biyu.' She introduced the others as Ting, Huan, Dongmei, and Nuo.

There seemed to be at least a dozen grown-up youngsters, young men who studied Lang's lady with politely concealed admiration, and young girls who considered her with more open interest. The fact that Olivia had the figure to wear a
cheongsam
was particularly appreciated among her contemporaries.