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Authors: Ai Mi,Anna Holmwood

Under the Hawthorn Tree (26 page)

BOOK: Under the Hawthorn Tree
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‘I wanted to see how good you were at swimming.' He laughed.

What a bad boy, waiting to see I wasn't better than him, so I'd make a fool of myself! She followed him again before making a surprise attack. She grabbed him by the shoulders so that he could pull her back to land. She floated on the surface and gently hung herself around his shoulders kicking her legs. I can't be giving him too much extra weight. But he suddenly stopped, straightened his body, and started treading water. Her body seemed to glue itself to his, so she let go as quickly as she could.

Together they swam back to the shore and he sat in the water, shaking slightly.

‘Are you tired?' she asked.

‘No . . . You go first and get changed, I'll come in a second.'

He had a strange look on his face. ‘Have you got cramp in your legs?'

He nodded. ‘You go and get changed. Unless you want to go for another swim?'

‘No more.' She shook her head. ‘We need some energy left in order to deliver the grain. If you've got cramp don't swim any more either. Where does it hurt? Do you want me to give it a rub?'

‘Never mind me.'

He was behaving very strangely, so she stood firm and asked, ‘What's wrong? Is the cramp in your stomach?'

He looked back at her intently until she realised that she was still wearing the swimsuit. She ducked down into the water; he must have seen my thighs, he thinks they're huge. ‘It's my legs, they're horrible, aren't they?'

‘They're really nice, don't say that. You go on.'

She refused to leave because she didn't want him to see her bottom hanging out of the swimsuit. ‘You go first.'

‘Okay, turn around.'

She couldn't help laughing. ‘You're not a girl, why should I turn around? Are you afraid I'll think your legs are ugly?'

He shook his head. ‘You're impossible.'

They remained in a stalemate until Old Third eventually conceded and got out first while Jingqiu faced the other way, waiting for him to shout ‘okay' before turning back. He had already pulled his army uniform over his wet shorts. ‘It's hot today, they'll dry in a second.' Jingqiu had got him out first, and yet he had to walk even further away until she could no longer see him before she would come out of the water. She too pulled her clothes over her costume, drenching them so that they clung to her body, and dashed to the public toilets to get changed properly.

She asked him to take the swimsuit back with him because she was too afraid to take it home with her; he could bring it next time.

Old Third helped her push the cart across the river but after that Jingqiu wouldn't let him come any further. She went on her own and he followed at a distance all the way to the paper factory where they parted as previously agreed, she to deliver the goods and return the cart, and he to the ferry crossing to catch the last bus back to West Village.

Only afterwards did it occur to Jingqiu that someone might have seen them together and reported it to the school. After a few days of worrying, however, no one had said anything about it and so it seemed that perhaps they could continue meeting in secret after all. She knew he had to swap shifts with someone else to be able to have two days to come to Yichang, so at most he would be able to come only once every two weeks. If she was not alone when he came, however, she wouldn't let him come up to her to say hello, so it was entirely up to the gods how often they would come face to face.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Perhaps it was because Old Third had suggested Wan Changsheng seemed dishonest, but Jingqiu began to think so too. He stood too close to her when speaking, brushed dirt from her clothes and squeezed her hand when passing her things, making her feel incredibly uncomfortable. She wanted to give him a piece of her mind but she was also worried that were she to offend him she would lose her job. Yet it was also true that Mr Wan took good care of her, giving her lighter work to do and making clear that he was doing so as a favour. ‘I'm doing this to help you. If it was anyone else I wouldn't give them such easy work.'

‘Thank you,' she would always reply, ‘but I would be happy to do the same as the other temporary workers. I'd have people to talk to, my day would be more lively.' But in the end it was up to Mr Wan to assign the work, and she would do whatever he told her to.

One day he told her to sweep the dormitory blocks assigned to unmarried workers as within a few days the factory was expecting a delegation of important people for an inspection. ‘It's your responsibility to make sure these buildings are clean. You don't need to do inside the rooms, just the corridors and the outer walls. In the corridors the most important thing is to clean away the rubbish and take it to the dump.'

Jingqiu set to work on the dormitories. The female block did not pose too many difficulties and she swept the corridors quickly. The male dormitory block, however, made her very uncomfortable. It was the height of summer and the men were very casually dressed. The more considerate among them had hung pieces of cloth over the middle of the doorway, leaving a gap at the top and bottom to let some air into the rooms. The others had merely flung open their doors and walked around topless, wearing only a pair of shorts.

Jingqiu bent over her broom and got on with cleaning the space before each door without looking up for fear of seeing their bare torsos. Some swooshed the door shut on seeing her, but others not only kept the door open but came out in their shorts to speak to her, asking her questions like what school she went to and how old she was. Blushing, she spluttered a few words in response and declined to say any more.

A couple of the young men asked her to clean inside their rooms but she refused to enter, telling them her boss had specifically told her to clean only the corridors. Laughing, they brushed their rubbish out into the corridor. After she had swept it into her bamboo scoop they brushed another pile into the corridor in order to detain her longer. Frustrated, she left to clean elsewhere so that they would give up on this stupidity. She would return to finish the patch around their door.

At one door a hand appeared underneath the cloth that had been hung across it just as she was clearing away their rubbish and emptied a cup of tea dregs and stewed leaves on to Jingqiu's foot; the water was still very hot, scalding it. He probably didn't see me, she thought, so she left to pour some cold water on it without saying anything. A young worker was walking by when this happened and he shouted into the room, ‘Hey! Watch where you're pouring that water.' As he turned to Jingqiu, a flicker of recognition came across his face. ‘Oh, it's you? How come you're doing this?'

Jingqiu looked up to see an old classmate, Zhang Yi, the naughtiest boy in her class, if not her whole school. All through primary school their teacher sat them at the same table, entrusting Zhang Yi to Jingqiu's care. Her job was to restrain and discipline him during class. This continued into junior middle school, where Zhang Yi was still considered Jingqiu's patch of field, her own ‘household responsibility'. But he had just got naughtier and naughtier, and Jingqiu was forced to run around after him. She had both hated and feared him and had spent her school days wishing every day that he might call in sick. When Zhang Yi left school after junior middle school Jingqiu had felt a burden lift from her shoulders, so she had never imagined that they would have to endure such an awkward reunion.

‘What are you doing here?'

‘I work here,' he said, while eyeing her up and down. ‘Why are you here? You working here too now?'

‘No, I'm just doing temporary work.'

‘I'll help you,' he said boldly, trying to grab the brush out of her hand. ‘Are your feet all right?'

Jingqiu looked down at them, and could find no blisters. ‘They're fine. You get on with your work, I'll do mine.'

Seeing that she was unwilling to give him the brush he started calling from door to door, ‘Hey! Sweep your floors and bring all your rubbish out at once, don't go doing it bit by bit. No tipping out tea water, my friend is cleaning out here and you'll burn her feet.'

His broadcast had the effect of bringing all the men to their doors so they could take a look at ‘Zhang Yi's friend'. ‘Zhang Yi, is this your bird?' ‘I've seen her, wasn't she the girl playing accordion when No. 8 Middle School's propaganda team came to perform?' ‘This is Mrs Zhang's daughter, I recognise her. Why is she working here?'

Jingqiu wished she could shoo them back into their rooms and lock the doors so that they wouldn't stand staring at her as she worked, looking her up and down and making comments. What was Zhang Yi thinking? She put her head down and continued sweeping the floor while the men called to her to come back and sweep a bit more, to take away the rubbish over there, or to ‘come in for a chat and drink' or ‘come in and teach us to play the accordion'. She gave no reply, working hastily to finish the cleaning so that she could escape.

The next day Wan Changsheng sent her back to the dorm blocks; she was to work there until the leaders came for the inspection. She asked him to give her some other work to do, a thousand times more strenuous if necessary. She'd rather do work like that than go back to the dormitories. ‘Okay,' he replied, after thinking it over, ‘you can work with Master Qu today.'

Mr Wan took her to the south end of the factory to a small river on the other side of the boundary wall, where, on the river's edge, sat a solitary, forlorn little building which belonged to the factory. She was to repair a hole in one of its walls. Mr Wan instructed Jingqiu to fetch some bricks from the factory complex and then mix up the mortar in a barrel from cement, lime, sand and water. Master Qu, the bricklayer, was over fifty years of age and walked with a limp.

As Mr Wan was about to leave Master Qu said, ‘Send along another worker, how can she transport all those bricks over the factory wall? We're not talking about one or two bricks here. Send along someone else. One can stand on the wall, and they can help throw the bricks down to me.'

‘Where exactly do you want me to find someone else? And once this person's finished chucking the bricks what'll he do then? Just stand watching you two work? I'll help you,' Mr Wan replied.

Jingqiu fetched a cartload of bricks and then climbed on to the wall as Mr Wan and Master Qu positioned themselves on either side. Once they finished throwing the bricks over Mr Wan dusted his hands and said, ‘What did I say? Didn't we just save ourselves another worker?' Then, turning to Jingqiu he said, ‘The rest is easy, just take your time,' and left.

The work was not, in fact, that tiring. Jingqiu fetched water, mixed the mortar in the barrel and generally worked as Master Qu's assistant. When the mortar was running low she would climb over the wall and bring back another barrel. Master Qu didn't talk much, preferring to keep his head down and work as Jingqiu stood to the side, letting her mind drift to thoughts of Old Third.

They had already finished by lunchtime, but as Master Qu left for lunch Jingqiu had to stay behind to tidy up the tools and clean up. Master Qu had instructed Jingqiu to leave the remaining bricks where they were, but she was afraid that stingy Mr Wan would get angry so she decided to transport them back over the wall into the factory complex. With no one to help her she had to use a bamboo basket to lift them over, one basket at a time.

As she was lifting the bricks over Wan Changsheng arrived. ‘You climb back on the wall. I'll throw them to you and you can drop them down on the other side.'

Jingqiu thought this a good method, certainly much quicker than her lifting them over on her own and it didn't take them very long. As she was looking for an empty patch of ground for the last bricks, she sensed someone else on the wall. She looked up to see Mr Wan standing less than a metre away. Surprised, she stepped back. ‘Have you thrown me all the bricks?'

‘Yes.'

‘Then what are we doing standing up here? Let's go and eat lunch. I'm starving.'

Mr Wan stood on the wall and lifted the ladder from the outside of the wall to the inside. He dusted his hands but didn't climb down, and instead stood looking at Jingqiu.

‘Why aren't you going down? Aren't you hungry?' Jingqiu said.

‘If you want to climb down, on you go. I want to stand here and chat.'

Jingqiu was becoming irritated. He must have had a big breakfast, she thought. ‘You're standing in the way of the ladder.'

‘You come over here and I'll hold you while you pass. Then you can climb down. C'mon, what's to be embarrassed about?'

Jingqiu looked around her but there was no other way down. This wall was much taller than the one at school. Not that she hadn't jumped from a wall this high, but the problem was that the ground was covered with bricks, rubble, bits of broken glass, and thorny shrubs. She might injure herself. She turned and started walking along the wall in search of another place to jump.

Mr Wan followed her. ‘Where are you going? You can't jump down, you'll hurt yourself.'

Jingqiu stopped, turned and replied angrily, ‘You know I can't jump so what are you doing stopping me? Let me use the ladder, I want to get down.'

‘If I let you use the ladder, will you let me hold you? Or, just let me touch you. Your big breasts have been bobbing in front of me all day, every day now, it's unbearable. If you don't let me touch you I'll do it anyway.'

‘What a pervert!' Jingqiu replied, wild with anger. ‘I'm going to report you to your superiors!'

‘Report what?' he said, coming closer. ‘What have I done to you? What has anyone seen me do to you?'

Terrified, Jingqiu turned and fled along the wall. After teetering and wobbling some way she looked back to see that Wan Changsheng was hot on her heels. Without checking what was beneath her she threw herself off the wall and into the courtyard. Quickly picking herself up she ran towards the factory in search of other people. Mr Wan was no longer chasing after her, so she slowed to check whether she had hurt herself and found that, apart from some scratches on her left palm from broken glass, she was fine.

BOOK: Under the Hawthorn Tree
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