The Expat Diaries: Misfortune Cookie (Single in the City Book 2) (7 page)

‘That’s a good idea,’ he says with a smile. ‘Han? You know you’re a good friend, right? You do, don’t you?’

He has such a gift for saying the right thing. ‘I know, thanks. See you in a minute. I’ll just call her from out front.’

The wind buffets me as I round the corner of the building. It’s unseasonably cool tonight (which means that the temperature has dipped below five-minutes-to-soak-through-a-blouse). To look at the locals you’d think we’re dining on the Arctic ice cap.

As usual I’m inappropriately dressed, but goose bumps are worth the sacrifice to wear my new shoes – hot pink satin, diamante encrusted, in the fashion-forward sense rather than the aging-Hollywood-has-been sense. They’re impossibly delicate, sky high and pretty enough to bring a tear to the eye. They’re also uncomfortable enough to raise a quiet sob.

Stacy picks up on the first ring. ‘Stace? It’s me. I just wanted to see how you’re settling in.’

‘Oh. Hi.’ It’s her angry voice.

‘Did you find everything okay?’ It’s a rhetorical question. We’re sharing a room the size of a walk-in freezer

‘Yes, thanks.’

‘How about towels? I bought you a scrubby glove – it’s in the shower.’ As if a loofah can slough away the feeling of desertion. ‘And there’s tea, and milk and sugar, in the kitchen. Have you eaten?’

‘Where would I eat? I’ve never been here before.’

Oh yes, definitely her angry voice. ‘If you take a left out of the building and walk a couple of minutes, there’s a whole row of restaurants. Tomorrow I’ll take you to lunch at a dumpling place that you’ll love.’ As best friends, we sometimes know each other better than we do ourselves. So we know that if either of us cracks and admits to being mad (her) or guilty (me), the argumentative floodgates will open and we’ll end up on the phone till morning. Like the proverbial elephant in the room – I will not mention it, I will
not
. And I hope she’s too tired for a fight. ‘I’ll be home by midnight so if you’re still up, I’ll see you then, okay?’

‘Sure, okay, see you later.’

‘… Bye.’

‘… Bye.’

I don’t know why I thought that’d make me feel better.

‘How’s she doing?’ Sam wants to know when I navigate back to the table, slightly weaving in my shoes.

‘She’s angry.’ I could sugar-coat it, but it wouldn’t do any good to lie to him. He has an eerie sixth sense that sees through me.

‘Well, she did just land today,’ he points out.

‘So did you!’

‘Darlin’, I’m not judging you. Really I’m not. I love being here with you. It’s selfish of me, but I’m glad you’re with me instead of Stacy tonight.’

Okay then. Because, for the record, he asked me here. I was ready to sacrifice my happiness to stay with Stacy. I wouldn’t have been good company, but I was ready to do it. ‘Stacy isn’t sharing your point of view at the moment.’

‘Let me ask you something. How would you describe the relationship between you two?’

He’s always asking me questions like this, and often much more random (like, if you could have any superhero power, what would it be?). He’s a real ponderer. ‘We’re best friends.’

‘I know that. But what’s your relationship? I mean, who has the upper hand?’

The thought pops instantly into my head. ‘She does,’ I say. She always has. I’m her canary in the coalmine, ready to play the warm-up to her headline show…

Or am I? Certainly that was my role when we were growing up, and such an instinctive role for me that I never questioned it. I happily followed her natural lead, generally without touching the brakes of common sense. Once, when she decided that brunettes have no fun, she stole her mother’s Nice ’n Easy permanent color and turned me into a blonde. Fortunately, or unfortunately, her mom caught us mid-rinse, and put an end to Stacy’s dreams of fair-haired partiality. We were nine. I spent the fourth grade growing out my roots.

But if I’m honest, our relationship did change when I moved to London. Certainly at first we talked every day. I needed her advice, her support, and that connection to home. But as I settled in and made a few friends, the power shifted. I think Stacy even started getting a little insecure. So I revise my answer. ‘Maybe I have the upper hand now.’

‘Yes, I think so. After all, she followed you here, right?’

‘Are you trying to make me feel bad?’ I frown at him.

‘No, no. Come here.’ He holds my face as he kisses me over the table. ‘I just mean that you’re not the same people you were before you left the US. It’s going to take time to establish your boundaries again. She’s probably a little unsure about where she fits in your life now, and that’s hard for her. I’m sure that’s the only reason she’s acting mad now. It’s not really because we’re here and she’s in your apartment. So don’t be so hard on yourself. Think about it. You know her best. Besides, I’m really glad you’re here with me.’

‘Me too.’ Ah, the way he’s looking at me! Like I’m his one true love and we’re the only two people in the world. Like he wants to tell me something. Oh. Is this it? Is he going to say it?

‘Han.’

‘Yes?’ He’s going to say it. I wish I hadn’t eaten the spinach.

‘I need to tell you something.’

Despite the typhoon blowing across the balcony, this is the perfect setting to declare our love. I’ve dreamed about this moment since we first kissed. ‘What is it?’ That garlic mayonnaise was probably a mistake too.

‘I have to go back to Ho Chi Minh on Sunday.’

‘What?!’

What about ‘I love you’? Or at least ‘I’m staying longer than the sell-by dates in your fridge’? Who wastes a setting like this delivering bad news? Unless this is the dating equivalent of dumping a girl in a quiet restaurant, counting on the setting to keep her from sobbing into her tarte Tatin. Oops. Too late.

‘Oh sweetheart, please don’t cry,’ he says, wiping my tears, and probably not a little mascara, with his fingers. ‘I hate that my job keeps me out of Hong Kong, and away from you. I didn’t expect there to be this much travel, not at the start. Hey, please stop crying. I can’t stand to see you upset because of me. Really, Han. I miss you so much when I’m away. I’d much rather stay here, but I’ve taken this job and this is the assignment. I don’t have a choice unless I quit. I’ve thought about that, believe me, because this isn’t what I want. Living out of a suitcase isn’t exactly my ideal. But I can’t quit. At least not till I’ve given it a chance, and put in my time. You understand that, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’ No, not really.

‘Darlin’, I’ll be back again soon, in just a couple weeks. And we’ve got a few days before I go. We’ll make the most of it. How ’bout we take Stacy sightseeing tomorrow, maybe to see the Ten Thousand Buddhas in Sha Tin? It’s a monastery, she’ll love it, and I’ll spring for lunch.’

A monastery is no substitute for a boyfriend. ‘Okay, that’ll be nice–’ sniffle ‘–But Sam, I’m already thinking about Sunday. I’m going to miss you so much!’ I hate it when I blubber. I don’t cry daintily; I effuse copious amounts of bodily fluids.

‘Oh, please don’t worry about that now. It’s not Sunday yet. And of course I’ll miss you too. But we can talk every day. We do now, don’t we?’

‘I suppose.’

‘Besides, you’ve got Stacy here, and you’re going to need to find an apartment, and start your job. You’ll be so busy that you won’t even notice I’m gone.’

Why do men say stupid things like this? I had a boyfriend once tell me that I shouldn’t worry about him meeting his foxy ex (his words, admittedly in a different conversation) because even though she was still in love with him, he’d made a commitment to me. How is that supposed to make a girl feel better?

‘Should we get the bill?’ I suggest. If I’m going to make the most of our few days together, we need to skip the coffees.

‘Sure,’ he says, making the universal check-please hand signal to a passing waiter. ‘It’s a nice night. What do you say we walk back to your place from the tram?’

‘I, erm…’ I say that’s a terrible idea. Stacy is sleeping a meter from my bed. And he can’t have failed to notice my footwear. ‘Why don’t we take a taxi to your apartment?’

‘I didn’t think you’d want to stay on Stacy’s first night.’

This is going to get very awkward if I have to spell it out. ‘I don’t plan to stay…’

‘A quickie?’ He’s grinning. ‘But I’d feel so used.’

‘Are you upset to know you’re wanted for your body?’

‘I’ve never been so proud in my life. Come on.’ He grabs my hand and hurries me, as fast as my shoes will allow, towards the tram. I don’t care that we’re making a spectacle of ourselves as we navigate the stairs in a pre-coital embrace. And Stacy will have to forgive me if I’m a little late.

I’m very late.

‘Have fun?’ Her words cut through me as I gently close the front door. I guess there’s a small chance that they’ve been sharpened by my guilt rather than her anger.

‘It was a magical night, Stace. I’ve missed him so much! It seems like forever since we’ve seen each other, even though I know it’s only been a few weeks. And it was amazing to catch up, and finally get to spend time together here. It was like we’d never been apart, I guess that’s a sign isn’t it, to be so connected? And this was our first time together in Hong Kong, our christening I guess you’d call it, and it was
fun
, we went to The Peak for dinner, I’ll take you there, it’s got an incredible view, though different from Kowloon, sort of the opposite view if you know what I mean, and the food’s good, but we can just go to see it too, and go somewhere else to eat…’ Maybe hyper-babbling will stave off the inevitable conversation.

‘Good.’ She’s still mad.

‘Are you tired?’

‘No. I feel rough though.’

Stacy is one of life’s beautiful women, with sleek blonde hair and flawless skin that always looks tanned despite her bat-like aversion to sunshine. For her, feeling rough translates into slight shadows beneath her eyes that only she can see. When I arrived I looked like I’d just been sprung from solitary confinement. ‘Aw, Stace, it’s the jet lag. It takes a few days to adjust. Want to watch TV? They dub
Friends
into Cantonese.’

‘No thanks.’

‘Well, I’m exhausted.’ I mime a stretch. ‘Mind if I head to bed?’

‘Hannah.’

Damn. ‘Yes?’

‘I wanted to talk…’

‘Oh, sure.’ Remember the comfortable ease with which Sam and I passed the evening? This is nothing like that.

‘I’m worried about you.’

When people say this, they usually mean they’re about to criticize me in some hurtful way. ‘Really? Because I’m doing great.’

‘I’ve been thinking a lot about this. It’s… you’re… I think you’re getting too wrapped up in Sam.’

‘Well, I love him.’

‘And that’s great. But you should be a little careful.’

‘Why?’ I definitely don’t like the course this conversation seems to be tracking. ‘Be careful of what?’

‘Well, it’s such a new relationship, and it’s moving really fast. Don’t you think so?’

‘Yes, and I’m thrilled. That’s not always a bad thing, Stace.’

‘No, I know. But what’s the rush? You could still see other people here. After all, you’ve just moved to a new country. And Sam will be away a lot. Don’t you want to have some fun?’

‘No, Stace, I want to be with Sam. I love him. Why would I want to be with someone else?’

‘It’s just that you’re making it too easy for him. If you wait around for him to show up, and then drop everything at his beck and call, you’re not doing yourself any favors. You should play hardball a little more, don’t be so available.’

What’s the point of pretending not to like him when I really like him?

‘That’s how the game is played,’ she continues. ‘Believe me. He’ll want to see you all the time then.’

‘But he’s only in town for a few days. He wants to see me all the time now. And I don’t want to play a game!’

‘Come on, we all play games.’

‘Stace, you know how crap I am at that. You remember school, right?’ My game-playing ability is on par with my checkbook-balancing ability. I haven’t got the stomach for either one. ‘Why can’t I just be myself and do what comes naturally?’

‘Well… don’t take this the wrong way,’ she says, guaranteeing that I’m going to take what’s coming the wrong way. ‘But you become a little, pathetic, when you’re hung up on a guy. And you know I say that with the utmost love for you.’

Well, at least that didn’t hurt. ‘Thanks very much.’

‘I just mean that you change when you have a boyfriend.’ She tips her head. ‘That’s not always a bad thing, sometimes you change for the good.’

Again, thanks very much. ‘I don’t think I change.’

‘Oh, come on! You take on the personality of the guy you’re seeing. You always have… I see you’ve bought
Tevas
.’ She stares pointedly at my footwear collection.

‘You know what, Stacy? Why don’t you give me some credit for having my own personality? That’s really insulting. And I bought them because they’re practical.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I don’t mean to insult you. I just wanted to point out that the reason Sam likes you is because you’re
you
. And you’re wonderful the way you are. If you then become him, you’ll lose what made him like you in the first place. Sorry, I really didn’t mean to offend you. Although,’ she pauses before delivering her coup de grace. ‘You’ve never been practical when it comes to shoes.’

‘I’m not going to play games with Sam.’

‘Well, you know him best, so that’s up to you to decide.’

‘Stace, it sounds like you don’t think this was a good idea.’

‘Well…’ She sighs. ‘I’m just glad that I’m here. Don’t worry, Han, whatever happens we’ll have a great time together.’

So it’s official. Everybody I love, except Sam, has judged this move to be a Very Bad Idea.

Chapter 5.