Authors: Roger Barry
‘I ah, I don’t think so’ was all she could manage.
‘Why don’t the two of you make yourselves at home’ said Ella, as she shuffled towards the kitchen.
‘Sit yourselves down and I’ll make us all a cup of tea. Tea’s ok I hope? I want to hear what you’ve been up to these last few weeks, and where you came across this fine young Irish lass’.
Grainne stood rooted in the centre of the room, her eyes scanning the walls, moving from one picture to another, to another, trying to take in everything in those images.
Ella arrived back with two cups, handing one to each of them, then returned with another for herself.
‘Do you like the photos dear’ she asked.
All Grainne could do was nod.
And, what do you work at dear? Ella continued.
‘She’s a photographer’ answered Tom.
‘Oh, the person who took those photos was a photographer too, a friend of mine from long, long ago. What do you think, are they good? I never really had a great eye for photographs, what makes one better than another and such, but I like these, I have to admit. Well, sit down why don’t you?’
Tom and Grainne sat down on a floral print two-seater, opposite Ella.
‘You’re very quiet, Grainne dear, especially for an Irish lass. Is she always this quiet Tom?’ she asked, stirring her tea.
‘No she’s not, not at all…usually’.
‘Are you sure we haven’t met before dear, you really do look familiar’.
Grainne’s eyes began to fill with moisture.
‘Are you ok dear, you look upset. Tom is she ok?’
A tear rolled down Grainne’s cheek.
‘Tom?’
‘Well, you see’ began Tom, ‘Grainne’s father died a long time ago’.
‘Ah, and did you see something child, something that reminded you of your father?’
‘I think she did’ answered Tom, ‘You’.
By now, the tears were flowing freely down Grainne’s face. Ella’s eyes were beginning to moisten too, although she was unsure why. Ella said nothing as Tom continued.
‘Grainne’s father Sean, was blonde, just like her’.
Ella turned to look at Tom.
‘Sean was born in December 1953, in Paris, in an orphanage by the name of ‘Fondation d’Auteuil’.
Nobody spoke, the two women both leaned across and hugged, both sobbing quietly. Tom was unsure what to do, but eventually let instinct take over, and without thought, just wrapped his arms around them in silence.
After a few minutes, he stood, and decided to leave the two women, grandmother and granddaughter, to be alone. As he walked down the street, he became aware of his own moist eyes, and wiped them quickly with his sleeve.
When Tom returned to the apartment, both Ella and Grainne were sitting side by side on the same two-seater sofa, drained, but somehow serene.
‘So what are your plans, Grainne dear? Are you and this handsome neighbor of mine an item, as they say nowadays?’
‘You’ll have to ask the big lug that question’ Grainne answered, gesturing to Tom, ‘My plans are to head back to Ireland, I suppose. Our plans? Well, that remains to be seen’.
‘Well, you’ve been telling me what to do, and what not to do up to now’ responded Tom smiling slightly, ‘Don’t see why that would change all of a sudden’.
Grainne gave Tom a knowing look, before turning back to Ella. ‘If we return to Ireland, would you come over to visit?’
‘Oh, I don’t know dear, I’m getting to the stage where going to the landing is a trip for me now. These old bones have a fair bit of mileage on them’. Ella noticed the disappointment on Grainne’s face. ‘But sure we’ll see pet, you never know. Never say never. We’ll see’.
‘Would it be possible for me to take, I mean borrow, one of your photographs?’ asked Grainne, gesturing to the wall. ‘I’d like to get a copy made if that’s ok. I’d return it to you of course’.
‘Take what you like, child. I’d be delighted if you’d take all that you want. Maybe you hadn’t noticed, but I’m no spring chicken any more, if you get my drift. I’m not going to be around forever you know’.
Grainne, with a slight feeling of guilt, removed a couple of pictures from the wall, noting absently the darker color of the wallpaper beneath as she did so. She and Tom stood at the doorway, as Ella, with some difficulty Grainne noticed, came to join them. The women embraced once more, before Ella brought her hands behind her neck, and removed a chain. She began to place it around Grainne, who, realizing what was about to occur, emitted a shout of protest.
‘Stop Ella, you can’t do that. That’s your necklace, please don’t. It’s beautiful and everything, but I can’t accept that. That must be your favorite if you wear it all the time’.
As Ella’s thin hands continued on their journey, she gave a little chuckle to herself at the memory of those words repeating themselves after so many years. Despite Grainne’s protests, the necklace was placed around her neck and fastened. Then her fragile hands moved round, and, cupping Grainne’s face, Ella spoke quietly.
‘This necklace belonged to my mother. She passed it on to me when she was going on a journey, a journey from which she knew she would never return. I’m eighty seven now you know, and soon I will be going on a journey. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do. I feel it, I know it. I’ve had a good life, an eventful life. My biggest regret was the thought I’d have no one to pass this necklace on to when the time came. Not the necklace really, that’s just an object, but the thought that I could possibly have someone to pass it to, yet would never find them. Meeting you my dear has fulfilled me, has erased the void I’ve carried around with me all of my adult life, and being able to place this around your neck has made this the best day of my life’.
The taxi slowly shuffled through the gridlocked streets of Shanghai, en route to the office building. Shan Ou sat in the back deep in thought, a suitcase on the seat beside her. She dreaded these ‘meetings’ with Chung. She felt unclean for days afterwards, felt trapped in a downward spiral from which she had no idea how to untangle herself. Slowly, they managed to escape the worst excesses of rush hour, as the vehicle gained a small amount of speed. She refocused her thoughts as they approached her destination, and she suddenly became aware of the two police vehicles outside the office.
‘Keep going’ she said.
‘But this is where you requested’ the driver protested.
‘I said, keep going’ she ordered.
‘Where are we going then?’
‘Just keep driving’.
As they passed the building, she glimpsed Chung being escorted down the steps flanked by two policemen, his wrists in handcuffs. As if in slow motion, their eyes momentarily met, before he disappeared from view. She needed time to think. The vehicle was aimlessly snaking through Shanghai with no apparent destination. Shan Ou looked out the window.
‘Pull up here’ she ordered suddenly.
The taxi came to a halt.
‘Wait here, I’ll be back in a moment’ she said as she opened the door, while picking up the suitcase. She crossed the road, dodging traffic, before coming to a stop at a low wall which bordered the Huangpu river. She paused for a few moments, staring at the far bank two hundred yards off, then with one swift movement hefted the case over the wall, watching it intensely as it was slowly enveloped by the deep waters. She returned to the taxi.
‘Take me to the airport’ she informed the bemused driver.
Shan Ou emerged from Hetian terminal, walking briskly by the silver Landcruiser as she made her way through the car park. On the outskirts of town, she bent down and removed her shoes, swinging them in a hand as she continued on her journey. She arrived at her home, feeling tired yet invigorated. She entered the kitchen, where her father sat at the table, a smile breaking out on his wind-burned features as he set eyes on his child.
‘Ah my daughter, you have returned to visit. Are you not travelling in your big silver vehicle, for I did not hear you approach?’
‘No father, I do not have that vehicle. I have left it where it belongs. I am not returning for a visit either, father. I have returned to stay’.
They sat by a glowing fire after eating, Shan Ou speaking little, and her father inquiring less, until it was time for bed. She lay awake in the inky blackness, listening to the wind from the mountains as it whistled through the eves, smiling to herself as she pretended once more she could hear the sound of wild animals calling. Next morning she sat quietly at the table, eating slowly, until she had a thought.
‘Father, I think I shall return to Hetian for the day, I’d like to try and seek out my mother’.
*****
The school bell sounded and the students slowly made their way to class. Sally, without crutches now but still limping slightly, joined them. She entered the classroom and stood there motionless, unsure of what to do next as the rest of the students took their seats. A young man in his early twenties, with long scraggy raven black hair and intense, deep blue eyes caught her attention, gesturing to her to the vacant seat beside him. She moved over and sat down, still unsure.
‘Hi I’m Al’ he said, offering his hand.
‘Sally’ she said as they shook.
‘Haven’t seen you around here before’ he continued, ‘you new?’
‘Yes, first day, signed up as a mature student, although I’m beginning to get cold feet now, wondering what the hell I’m doing here’.
‘Oh you’ll soon get the hang of it. I’m a mature too, so we’re in the same boat. Where you from?’
‘Well, I’m staying in Sunningdale out in the suburbs at the moment’.
‘Sunningdale? I know there, have a friend who lives out that way. Say, you ever go to that bar, now what’s the name of it, you know, the one that faces onto the park’.
‘I’m afraid not. I’ve not been there long’.
‘Oh right. And where were you living before?’
‘Em, over by the bay’.
‘Wow, it’s pricy over that direction, I bet it was nice’.
‘Well it was different. It was certainly quiet, most of the time’.
‘Yeah, I know what you mean. Probably a bit too quiet for young guns like us eh?’
‘Oh, it had its moments’.
‘I bet the neighbors were a bit uppity, though’.
‘Not really, probably a bit more down to earth then you’d imagine. In fact, I’d almost guarantee it’.
‘Oh’.
*****
‘Toby, come back. Toby, get back here before you frighten the natives’.
Toby sprinted back to his master, his tongue hanging out, panting heavily. People in the park were staring. What type of dog was that? It had the body of a greyhound, all gangly legs and protruding ribs, yet stuck on top was a head that seemed to have been removed from a Labrador, grafted onto its thin frame. It was so ugly, it was almost cute. The dogs tail seemed to have a mind of its own, wagging incessantly, as if Toby had discovered the secret of perpetual motion, and was hell bent on showing the world.
‘What are we going to do with you, you mad mutt. I’ve a good mind to send you back to the pound’ Brad admonished gently.
Toby looked up at his hero, tail swinging to and fro. He knew he should return on call, but it was so difficult. After being pent up in that wire cage in the pound for so long, sprinting through the long grass of the park was just heaven.
‘Come on and we’ll get you home’ said Brad, snapping the lead to his collar and patting him, ‘Sally will be back from her classes soon, and you and I have some dinner to make’.
This just gets better and better,
thought Toby.
*****
All that could be heard was the sound of stones tumbling against one other as the waves from the sea came crashing in. Tom’s head was buried beneath a dark cloth as he studied the ground glass screen of the field camera.
‘What the hell are you doing’ asked Pat as he made his way through the rocks of the shoreline.
Tom untangled himself from the cloth.
‘I’m trying to make sense of an upside down world’ he answered.
‘Well, that shouldn’t be too difficult. I’d imagine your world was turned upside down already, taking recent events into account’.