“Girl, what are you doing?”
I opened my eyes. Lady Emily was looking down at me pointedly.
“I was just concerned about your health,” I stammered.
“You’re doing some kind of spell, aren’t you? I could feel it at once.”
I didn’t know how to tell her about my special abilities, but I sensed she might share the same gift. I pretended not to understand her question.
“All I did was close my eyes and try to sense whether you’re ill or not.”
“There’s more to it, isn’t there?” Lady Emily asked, her head cocked to one side. “Let me guess. You’re some kind of shaman?”
I decided to come clean.
“I don’t really know myself. I just know that I can tell things about people from touching their feet.”
“You said you’re Chinese. What religion are you?”
“I don’t follow any religion, madam.”
“Very well. Have you figured out what’s wrong with me?”
I examined her feet as I rubbed them. A red aura appeared over the cushiony flesh at the base of her first two toes. Her ankle also glowed dark red.
“You might have a weak heart, and I think your knees bother you.”
Lady Emily studied my face, intrigued.
“You saw my past too, didn’t you?”
I had no choice but to tell her what I saw.
“There were trees all the way to the horizon, and you were leaving a large stone house with rows of pillars.”
“That’s right! That was Johannesburg! How did you know?”
“A small woman was standing next to the master of the house. I think that’s why you two were arguing.”
Lady Emily clasped her hands in front of her chest in shock. She took several long breaths. Her eyes were turning red. It took her a while to calm her breathing. Then she dropped her hands.
“It’s a good thing you’re not Thai,” she said.
I decided not to mention the dark cloud yet, or the piled-up bodies of black women and children. Lady Emily lay back on the chaise and gestured.
“You may massage me now.”
I began by applying pressure with my thumbs and stroking with the flat of my hands, progressing from the bottoms of her feet to the tops, then to the toes, heels and finally her calves. I massaged every acupressure point I knew. At some point she fell asleep. I ended the session by wrapping her feet in another warm towel, then massaging cream into her legs and feet. As I always did with clients, I crept out of the room to avoid waking her. Auntie Sarah was reading a magazine in the living room. She stood up when she saw me.
“Done?”
“Yes, madam. Lady Emily is asleep.”
“That’s good. I guess it’s my turn now.”
We went down to the maids’ quarters in the basement. Auntie Sarah was in charge of the maids, which put her on nearly equal footing with the butler, an Indian man. She sat down on a sofa with her legs outstretched while one of the maids brought a towel and a basin filled with warm water. In the middle of the massage, a voice came over the intercom saying that Lady Emily was looking for her. Auntie Sarah quickly dried her feet and went upstairs. She came back shortly, her face aglow.
“She was really happy with you,” she said. “She wants you to come back tomorrow.”
Auntie Sarah told me she would drive me back, but added: “Here is the address. Can you find your way back here on your own tomorrow? All you have to do is ring the bell at the door we used earlier.”
On the way to Elephant and Castle, she said: “By the way, Lady Emily says you have an unusual talent?”
I had to repeat the brief conversation I’d had with Lady Emily.
“That’s extraordinary!” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you saw the Johannesburg estate. Her family lived in South Africa for generations.”
When I also told her about the small Southeast Asian woman, and how agitated Lady Emily had become, Auntie Sarah’s voice turned angry.
“You said something stupid after all! That Thai bitch is the reason her husband is living in Brighton and not here. How embarrassing for her.”
She mumbled to herself for a bit, then whipped her head around to look at me; something had just occurred to her.
“That means you saw something when you touched my feet, too!”
I didn’t answer, but she immediately chuckled to herself as if to say there was no use worrying about that now.
“I guess you saw all my dreadful ex-boyfriends.”
I debated whether or not to keep quiet, but then decided to say something in order to hold her attention a little bit longer.
“I saw your white father, and the black man your mother met when she was working at the hospital.”
“Oh my!” Auntie Sarah’s hands slipped on the steering wheel, and the car swerved. “You’re really something, kid!”
I didn’t tell her about the form that looked like a dark cloud wrapped around Lady Emily, or the bodies. When the car pulled up in front of Tongking, she handed me an envelope. I got out of the car and looked inside: there was far more in there than just my hourly fee. If I kept working at that rate, I would be able to pay off my debts in Chinatown within six months. For the first time I felt my heart grow lighter. I gave the money for my hourly fee to Uncle Tan and kept the rest. He looked satisfied to have such a wealthy regular who would provide a fixed income for the salon.
The following week, I took the Underground to the mansion on my own, address in hand. I was so scared that my heart nearly beat out of my chest, but at the same time I was happy that I had the freedom to go anywhere now.
By the time I had made the two station transfers, walked down the side street next to Holland Park and arrived at the house in Kensington, I was ten minutes late. I went downstairs and rang the bell. Auntie Sarah’s face appeared.
“I was worried you wouldn’t find it,” she said.
“I took the wrong train and had to make a different transfer.”
“Lady Emily’s waiting for you. She’s already asked me twice why you’re not here yet.”
Auntie Sarah led me up to the living room on the second floor. Lady Emily was resting on the sofa, wearing a sky-blue silk Chinese gown.
“Yes, come in,” Lady Emily said in a drowsy voice.
Auntie Sarah gave me a nod and then vanished.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” Lady Emily asked. “We don’t have to start with the massage today.” She spooned some dark tea into a porcelain pot that was ready on the table.
“Is that black tea?” I asked.
“No, it’s made from medicinal herbs. It’ll relax you and make you feel better.”
I took a hesitant sip. There was no flavour at all, but it smelled like dried leaves and earth. I followed Lady Emily into the bedroom; she had me recline on the chaise while she lay down on the bed.
“Let’s converse, Bari. You’ll know what to do.”
I felt my back start to rise and fall, as if I were bobbing on the ocean, and then my body went slack and I felt like I was floating down a river. From between my fluttering eyelids, which insisted on closing, I caught a glimpse of someone standing over Lady Emily’s bed. It looked like an older black woman wearing a heavy brown cloak made from a rough material.
“There’s someone’s behind you,” I said. “A black woman.”
Lady Emily was not startled at all.
“Yes,” she whispered. “That must be my nanny, Becky. She watches over me.”
I tried to sit up in order to greet Becky, but for some reason my arms and legs would not obey. Lady Emily’s quiet voice reached my ears.
“Go to sleep, child. Go to sleep.”
*
I stand in a field with dry grass up to my waist. The setting sun looks like a deliciously ripe persimmon. It turns the whole sky a deep, orangey red. A slow rhythm, like distant drumming, vibrates in my ears. I can’t tell whether or not it is my own heartbeat that I am hearing.