Miss Chopsticks (15 page)

‘So what do you use to wash your hair?' Six asked.

‘I share her shampoo,' said Five bluntly, ‘just like I share Four's comb at home.'

‘Oh, Five,' said Three, ‘using other people's belongings isn't the same as borrowing your family's things! What did Mum tell us before we went away? “Even if there's no rice in the family bowl, it's better to starve than take someone else's gruel”!'

Five looked crestfallen and a tear dripped on to her nose. ‘But how can I buy things for myself when I hardly see you and I can't read the labels? I can't exactly go up to all those clever city people and ask them to read things out for me. They'll laugh at me and I don't want them to think that everyone in the countryside is as stupid as me.'

Five's words had a sobering effect on Three and Six. It wasn't her fault that she hadn't been to school. The two years that Three had spent at primary school had been extremely difficult for the family and they'd hardly been able to afford cooking oil. Fortunately, Four couldn't go to school because she was deaf and dumb. When it came to Five's turn, their father was determined not to waste good money trying to educate a girl who was clearly so slow on the uptake. He would have found a reason to keep Six out of school too if the teacher hadn't come and begged him to let her stay. He would rant that Six's eight years of
education were the family's downfall. It was as if she had studied them into poverty … Still, how could their father have known that, in the city, writing was central to everything?

‘Do you earn any tips?' Three asked Five gently.

‘Yes, we get tips every day, and at the end of the month we get our official money. Auntie Wang says I'm a new girl, so my wages are the smallest you can get in the company. Even so, I'm earning a lot more than Dad. I never thought I'd lay my hands on fifty yuan so soon. I asked Mei Mei to change my money into a fifty-yuan note. When I have another fifty, I'll get a hundred-yuan note and give it straight to Mum. That'll give Dad a shock.'

The three sisters were silent as their thoughts turned to their mother – a woman who had never lived a moment for herself since the day she married …

It was pleasantly warm in the early spring sun and Nanjingers, who had been waiting for this moment all through the long damp winter, were taking the opportunity to get out of their houses and into the fresh air. Pedestrians wandered across the Half-Moon Bridge while old people sat on stools in the sun. The men played chess, chatted and read the papers; the women cleaned and prepared vegetables, drank tea and gossiped gently among themselves. There were a few three-year-olds sitting on their grandmother's knee or in a pushchair, but hardly any other children to be seen.

Meng had told Six that, from the moment they started nursery school at three, city children had very little time to play. Quite apart from their three hours' homework each day, their parents also wanted them to spend time studying calligraphy, music, painting or some other activity in the hope that they might prove to be talented. On Saturdays, the local Children's Cultural Palace was swarming with children taking art, dance or music lessons, and some even
spent another three hours taking tuition elsewhere. Sunday was the only time for games, but children who were not doing well at school had to use this day to prepare for next week's lessons and take supplementary classes.

‘Excuse me, would you mind getting out of the way so that we can take a photo?' said a man who was walking towards them, camera in hand. Three whispered to Five that he was a ‘tourist', visiting Nanjing from another Chinese town, and that soon the city would be full of people using their holidays to visit new places. They might even see some bignoses from foreign countries too.

As the sisters got to their feet, Three scooped up the discarded tofu skewers and paper rice-ball wrappers from the ground and threw them into a nearby bin.

‘You can't put rubbish on the floor in the city,' she said to her sisters. ‘It's like dropping rubbish in front of someone's home in our village: people will think you are not showing respect. Let's go, I'll show you where I work, it's only a few steps away. We won't go right up to it, though, otherwise my boss will offer us a free meal.'

‘Yes, yes, let's have a quick look so we know how to get there, but don't let's bother anyone,' Six agreed.

Five was about to say that she too was longing to see the restaurant where her sister worked, when a woman wearing a uniform just like Three's appeared in front of them carrying a basket of vegetables.

‘
Aiya
, Three, are these your sisters? Well, let me introduce myself. I'm Wang Tong, Three's boss. Where are you all off to? It's almost lunchtime. Come back with me for a bite to eat before you go sightseeing.'

Five was astonished. Was Nanjing a magical place where, if you thought about someone, they appeared before you? She watched in admiring silence as her sister tried to reassure Wang Tong that they had already eaten.

‘Now, now, Three, you mustn't feel you have to stand
on ceremony with me. I know you haven't eaten! What are you worried about? It can't be the cost. I hope you've told your sisters that you're like family to us, and relatives can eat one free meal a week, with a thirty per cent discount for the second and ten per cent for the third. Come on, stop shilly-shallying!'

The sisters followed Wang Tong to the Happy Fool where they found a woman admiring the vegetable display in the window.

‘Your sister's handiwork makes us a fair bit of money, I can tell you,' said Wang Tong, ushering the girls into the restaurant. ‘Now sit down and make the most of this quiet period before the lunchtime rush begins. If it gets busy then you might have to go and chat elsewhere. Now, I know exactly what Three likes eating so I'll bring you three of her favourite dishes. If you don't like them, then leave them. It's not a problem.'

Before Three had time to thank her, Wang Tong turned and sped into the kitchen. It was clear that there was to be no arguing with her, so Three decided to show her sisters the displays of fresh fruit and vegetables on the walls while they were waiting for the food to come.

‘This all looks very nice because it's spring,' said Six, ‘but what do you do in winter?'

‘Well, the city isn't like the countryside: you can still buy vegetables that are grown under plastic, and things like melons and cauliflowers that are imported from abroad. To stop the melons dripping juice, I wrap them in the cling-film stuff that people use here …'

‘That sounds horrible,' interrupted Five. ‘Why would anyone like to look at out-of-season vegetables which probably aren't that fresh anyway?'

‘Things don't have to be fresh to be pretty,' said Three. ‘In the winter we use a lot of preserved fruit, as well as dried goods, like prunes and turnips. I make dried vegetables into flowers, or cut them in half so that you can see the
pattern inside. City people are so busy, they don't have time to learn how to dry fruit and vegetables. Here, they can get a lesson while they're eating …'

‘These city people need a teacher for everything,' muttered Five. ‘Why can't they just learn from the street or their home, like country people?'

‘That isn't a city talent, it's the wisdom of the countryside,' said Wang Tong, who had appeared at their table carrying a tray of food. ‘We're lucky to have Three to enlighten us. Now, here are some appetisers to start you off. I haven't given you any of the “wild food” Nanjingers love so much. I'm not sure your country appetites are suited to such tiny portions. This is Zhenjiang preserved meat; this is pickled white cabbage from the north-east (you don't see much of that down your way); this one's a local, radish-peel salad (we don't prepare it in the same way as you do). When you're ready, the kitchen will make a bowl of noodles with spring onions for each of you, and spare ribs in Beijing sauce to go with them – how does that sound? Three knows what we've got here. Three, if your sisters want anything, let the kitchen know. I'll have to leave you to your own devices now because it's going to get busy, but remember: this is your day off. I won't let you lift a finger to help … Yes, coming!' called Wang Tong as some customers came through the door. ‘Good afternoon, over here please, what'll you have today? We have all the vegetables on the board …'

Despite having eaten earlier, the sisters tucked into their lunch with relish. While they were eating, Three tried to explain the meaning of the restaurant's name to Five, who didn't think ‘The Happy Fool' was very dignified.

‘The name comes from something the owner's mother used to say,' Three said, mimicking Wang Tong's tone of voice as she gave her sister a lesson. ‘She believed that there was so much unfairness in the world that you could never be happy unless you closed your eyes to it, and were
content with being foolishly blind to things that worried other people.'

Five was not convinced. Her own foolishness was a constant source of unhappiness to her, and she couldn't understand how someone could consider stupidity a good thing. Perhaps Three's boss wanted to keep her employee stupid so she was easier to order about. Five didn't say this to Three, but she silently thanked her good fortune that she herself had ended up with a job in a place so grand and impressive that its name had a dragon in it, not a fool.

By the time the sisters had polished off a big bowl of noodles each and a large platter of spare ribs, there were lots of customers waiting for a seat, so they hurriedly said their goodbyes. Six was eager to show Five where she worked, so they decided to take two buses back to the Book Taster's Teahouse, which was in the north-west of the city.

Five was a little perplexed that her sister seemed so delighted to have a job in a teahouse. She remembered how, when labourers had come to work on the road near her village, a teastall had been set up so that they could rest on the ground drinking huge bowls of tea. How could her sister get so excited about something like that? But as soon as she saw the elegant black-and-gold sign under the eaves of the Book Taster's Teahouse, she understood that this wasn't any old teastall. In fact, when she got inside, it seemed like fairyland. There were beautiful lamps everywhere, as if from an emperor's palace, and three-footed incense burners on the mahogany tables. It was as if the place was full of gods and spirits!

A man with glasses got up from a table where he was sitting with a group of people, and came to greet the three girls. Before Five had a chance to take in what he was saying, he had ushered Six behind a curtain and told her to make tea for her sisters while he attended to his friends.

‘That must be Six's boss,' said Three. ‘She told me that,
although he's not much to look at, he's very talented. He's so clever at calligraphy that he painted the sign outside himself, and Six says he got their family car in exchange for some calligraphy that he did.'

‘What does the sign outside say?' asked Five, wondering how the teahouse's name would measure up to her Dragon.

‘It says “The Book Taster's Teahouse: In Memory of Lu and Lu”,' said Three.

Five was unimpressed. ‘That doesn't sound very important.'

‘I think Lu and Lu were important wise men,' said Three, ‘because this teahouse is full of learning. It must be a good place for Six to continue her education. She told me that sometimes even foreigners come here.'

‘Bignoses? What kind? Uncle Two told me he's seen some strange black and white ones in Zhuhai. Some even had red hair! Are the ones Six has seen like that too?'

‘Ask her yourself in a minute. Six, what's this notebook?'

Three had walked over to the desk by the door and was looking at a beautifully bound book on the table.

Six put down her tea tray and came over. ‘It's a place where customers can write down ideas and jokes, or contribute a piece of calligraphy. Come on, I'll read you a joke. Here's one I haven't seen before. Someone must have written it today. It's called “God Makes People”.

‘The first time God made people, he modelled a batch of them out of clay and put them in the kiln to fire. But God was very tired and he nodded off. When he took the clay people out of the kiln they were all burned black. So God modelled more clay people and fired them again. This time he didn't sleep but sat waiting in front of the kiln. After a while he got impatient, so he put out the fire and took out the clay people to see
how they were getting on. But it was too early, the clay wasn't properly fired yet, so they were all white. Finally, God decided to make yet more clay people. This time he was careful to watch the sun until the time was exactly right. When he opened the stove and brought out the clay people, he was happy: they were perfect – not black or white, not overcooked or undercooked, but yellow, just like us!'

Six burst out laughing but neither Five nor Three could see what was so funny.

‘How come this God has to do his own work?' asked Five. ‘And why can't he put right his mistake without having to start again? Mum says the Bodhisattva Guanyin can change whatever she wants; she doesn't get things wrong the way we do. If this God heard our prayers, what good would he be able to do?'

‘He wouldn't hear our prayers,' teased Six, ‘because this God doesn't understand Chinese.'

‘Shhh!' said Five in alarm, reaching out to put her hand over Six's mouth. ‘You mustn't ever badmouth the gods, or they'll get revenge on you!'

Meanwhile, Three was leafing through other pages in the notebook. ‘Why is this person writing in Pinyin?,' she asked.

‘That isn't Pinyin, it's English. Listen, I'll translate the joke for you. It says … um … “A Chinese person who'd just started learning English bumped into an English person on the street, and apologised in English:
I am sorry
. The British person replied
I am sorry too
. The Chinese person, thinking that he ought to be as polite as the British person, said:
I am sorry three.
The English person was puzzled:
What are you sorry for
? The Chinese person, determined not to appear rude, said:
I am sorry five.
'