machine.
'Please let me in,' Sezen called.
A thought of Mrs Tung's seemed to breathe through Mae.
Mae went back to the TV. She watched as her morning weather data uploaded to Balshang.
There were footsteps on the roof. Mae heard boots skidding on stone tiles.
'Mae, this is Sezen,' said a voice from above.
'Get away, you silly girl, you will fall and kill yourself,' said Mae.
'I'm not one of them, Mae. I wouldn't do that to you. What did they say?' The voice through the stone tiles was as clear as if Sezen were in the room.
'They want me to stop working. They want to take everything away from me and they say they want to help me.'
'
'They want to kill my baby,' said Mae, her voice thickening with rage. 'That bloody woman in the City has been trying to kill my baby all along, and she has been writing to Kwan.'
'Don't you worry, Mae, Sezen will never let you down. Ah? We are wild women together. What do you need me to do?'
'Get down off that roof before you kill yourself
Sezen laughed. 'The view is lovely up here. Okay. I am holding on to the crest of the roof so I cannot fall. So, what do you need me to do?'
Mae considered. She considered being accosted alone in the fields, surrounded by so-called friends. She considered all the hours she worked. She considered the baby in her belly made of fire. She considered the undoubted truth that she was doing too much. Above all else, she considered the village.
'I need you to help collect Info,' Mae said. 'Info about snow.'
'Mae!' someone shouted. 'What is going on?'
Sezen giggled. 'You have shut out Siao.'
'Siao, hold on, is there anyone with you?' For just a moment, Mae imagined that they might be with Siao; for just a moment, that Siao might even have joined them.
'I want lunch!' he shouted back.
Mae went down and let him in. Sezen joined them, grinning as Mae raged, pacing her own kitchen in fury. Siao and Sezen caught each other's eyes and mimed ducking.
'So I got a new wireless account, my machine is up in the loft! I don't need them!'
'Good,' said Siao, with a mild smile. 'You have needed to be independent of Kwan for a while. Don't worry, eh? If they cut off the electricity, I know how to get it going again. I'll put printout through doors, whatever.'
Mae hugged him in gratitude, and he kissed the top of her head. They hung together for a just a moment as if in outer space. Then they remembered Sezen was there. She made a mysterious and somehow knowing gesture, holding up both hands, palms out.
In the evening, an e-mail arrived from Mr Ken.
He had keyed it in, not spoken it, so he must not have wanted to be overheard. It came from Sunni's machine.
If you are in trouble, I will help. You know that. Please call on me to help. But please, also tell me: What is this about a baby?
By all the stars, she hadn't told him. She had not told Kuei about his child. The room seemed suddenly colder, her cheeks burned. She could hear Siao below in the kitchen, cooking dinner for her. The metal spoon tinged against the wok; Siao was humming a song.
Mae! What are you doing?
CHAPTER 22
It was Chinese New Year and Mae was alone.
Kwan was having a party. After everything that had happened, Mae would not attend. Why should she – to be argued at, cajoled, and entreated?
Something was up with Siao. He had come back from the Teahouse looking distracted. He tore off the top of his thumbnail with his teeth, kissed Mae on the cheek, and told her not to worry. Then he was gone in young Mr Pin's car. Old Mr Chung shuffled and shrugged and then left early, perhaps embarrassed, for a gathering of old village reprobates like himself.
Mae had hoped at least to share some warm rice wine at New Year's with her family, with Siao. Whenever she talked to Siao she always got good sense, she always felt secure.
She didn't own him; if he wanted to go off and have fun, okay. He wasn't married, he must need a woman, and perhaps he hoped to find one.
And, ah, Mae, that is it. That is why your hands tumble over themselves, round and round. That is why you cannot sit still. You see another woman coming into the house, and that disturbs you, but more than that, you see another woman with Siao.
Mae? What has happened here? Sit down, Mae, and look at your hands. What do they tell you?
They tell you want to look into his calm, honest blue-grey eyes. You want to see his smooth lean arms, with the silky skin that mixes Karzistan with China. You want to hear his deep, measured voice. You wish he were here. You wish you were with him.
Mae put her head into her hands. Oh, Mae Mae, Mae, Mae, what is this?
Mae stood up from the kitchen table. I want him to work with me. We work well together. He understands the things I understand. He is even better than me at selling, he is better than me at understanding what all this new stuff is for…
Yes, Mae, and what else?
I want to hold him, I want to give him a home, I want to show him the respect his stupid brother never gave him. I want him to know that someone sees how smart he is, how kind, how patient. How wise.
Oh, Mae. You are in love with your husband's brother.
Well, it is traditional. The husband dies, the brother can take over. But when the husband just goes off? When the husband goes off because the wife went with his next-door neighbour?
And when she is about to have the next-door neighbour's child?
Oh, Mae, the knots you tie. If you were scandalous before, what will you be after this? And poor Siao, suppose he feels nothing for you but kindness? What will he feel if you declare yourself? You will be trapped together in the house, you see each other half-naked nearly every day, he has to think of his brother, he has to be neighbours with Mr Ken… Oh, Mae, nobody needs this!
Mae, if you go after your husband's brother, you really will lose everything. Maybe you really have gone mad.
But once given its proper name, the feeling would not go away.
I love his little beard, I love the way it makes his teeth shine out when he smiles, I love the slow way he moves, I love the way he turns everything around, stands it on its head, and it makes more sense that way. My God, I love his body, I love his mind.
When did it change? When did I notice as if in passing that he was also handsome? When did he wake up and start to speak? Or rather, when did I begin listening to him?
Mae, leave this. You don't like being alone, that's all. Being alone at New Year's is making me jealous. I do not like being the crazy lady of the village. I do not like being where I am. I am not Madam Owl, I am not Mrs Disruption, and I wish all this would stop. I want peace, I want quiet.
