‘Thank you, thank you so much,’ the Chinese woman was saying. She was even more beautiful now that I could see her close up.
‘Is there anything I can do?’ I said.
‘I think she’ll be fine. She just needs to be cleaned down and –’
‘We’re not going home, are we, Mum?’ her daughter said.
‘I don’t know, honey, that depends on what Jennifer wants. Jennifer, do you want to go back home to your mother?’
Jennifer shook her head.
When we reached the picnic rug, Jennifer lay down and we had a good look at her leg. One of the scratches was pretty deep and nasty. The Chinese woman took some Kleenex out of a box in her picnic basket, and I poured water from my water bottle on to the wound, and together we cleaned it and staunched the flow of blood. Then she rummaged through the basket again and I heard her whispering to herself, ‘No Band Aids! How could I not have brought any Band Aids!’ And I remembered passing a pharmacy on the way to the beach, so I said:
‘I’ll go and get some.’
‘No – please – really – it’s too much to ask.’
‘Not at all. There’s a shop just up the road from here. She really needs to have something to cover up those scratches. Otherwise she’s not going to be able to go in the water all day.’
‘Really, I don’t think –’
But I didn’t listen to her protests, and before she had finished making them, I had set off on my errand. I was there and back in less than ten minutes. Once I’d returned, and handed over the Band Aids, I felt that I didn’t have much else to offer by way of help. The scratches were covered over quickly enough, and the two little girls – who seemed to have polished off most of their picnic while I’d been away – had fully regained their high spirits. Now they were ready to rush off to the swimming pool again.
Before they were allowed to go, the Chinese woman stood up and pulled her daughter’s hair back into a tight ponytail, securing it with a hair-tie.
‘Now don’t get into the water until your food’s digested,’ she said. ‘And please be careful this time.’
‘We will.’
‘And what about saying thank you to the nice gentleman, for all his help?’
‘Thank you,’ they chorused dutifully.
‘Don’t mention it,’ I said. But they were already gone.
We stood there for a little while, the two of us, me and the Chinese woman, in confused silence. Neither of us knew what to say.
‘Really,’ I stumbled, in the end, ‘I’m just glad that I happened to be here. I mean, I’m sure you would have been all right by yourselves, but …’
She looked at me with a frown, and said: ‘I’m not usually very good with accents, but – yours is English, right?’
‘It is, yes.’
‘So are you just visiting? Have you been in Sydney for long?’
‘Just a week,’ I said. ‘I came to see my father. Bit of family business to sort out. Now that it’s done, I’m heading back to London. Tonight, as it happens.’
On hearing this, she held out her hand stiffly, formally. ‘Well, thank you very much for your help, Mr … er –’
‘Sim,’ I said, taking her hand and shaking it. ‘Maxwell Sim.’
‘Thank you, Mr Sim. Before you go, there was one thing I wanted to ask you – if I may.’
‘Of course.’
‘Well, I was just curious, really. I was just curious to know whether it was purely coincidence that we were eating at the same restaurant last night.’
‘Ah,’ I said. My game, it seemed, was up.
‘And also two months ago, if I’m not mistaken.’
‘Two months ago,’ I repeated. ‘Yes, that’s correct.’
‘Are you following me, then, Mr Sim? Should I be calling the police?’
I didn’t know what to say. Her eyes had quite a glint in them, now: but it was a glint of defiance, rather than alarm.
‘I did come here,’ I said carefully, ‘because I knew that I’d find you. And I wanted to find you, because I wanted to ask you a question. There’s something I need to know, that only you can tell me. That’s all.’
‘That’s all? Well then, we’d better have the question.’
‘Right. The question.’ Oh well, I might as well blurt it out. ‘Are you married? Do you have a boyfriend? Does your daughter have a father?’
The Chinese woman smiled tightly, and looked away. ‘I see,’ she said. Then, turning back towards me: ‘Yes, Mr Sim, I am married. Happily married, as I believe the saying is.’
‘Ah. Right.’ Immediately it felt as though a huge chasm of disappointment had opened up in front of me, and all I wanted to do, now, was to throw myself in. ‘In that case,’ I said, ‘I think I’d better go. I’m very sorry if I … disturbed you in any way. It was extremely –’
‘Please,’ said the Chinese woman. ‘Don’t go. You haven’t disturbed me at all. In fact you’ve been more than helpful. And what you’ve done is – well, quite romantic, from one point of view. If you’ve come all the way to this beach just to see me, then the least I can do is to offer you something. A cup of tea, perhaps?’
‘That’s very kind of you, but –’
‘Please, Maxwell, sit down. May I call you Maxwell?’
‘Yes, of course.’
She sat down on the rug and motioned for me to join her: which I did, with a certain sense of embarrassment.
‘My name is Lian. My daughter’s name is Yanmei. Her schoolfriend’s name, you already know. Will you take your tea with lemon? I’m afraid I didn’t bring any milk.’
‘I’ll just have it … as it comes, actually. Whatever’s easiest.’
Lian poured black tea into two plastic cups, and handed one of them to me. I thanked her, and we drank in silence for a moment or two. Then I said, ‘If I can offer you some sort of explanation –’
‘Please do.’
‘The truth is that when I saw you and Yanmei having dinner together at that restaurant two months ago, it made a profound impression on me.’
‘Really? In what way?’
‘I’d never seen anything quite like the … intimacy that I saw between the two of you. I saw that intimacy and I felt the lack of it in my own life, and I started to hope – to fantasize, actually – that I might be able to share in it.’
Lian gave another of her tight but captivating smiles. She looked down into her teacup and said: ‘Well, those dinners we have together are very special to us. We go there on the second Saturday of every month. Once a month, you see, my husband, Peter, has to go to Dubai. The working week there starts on a Sunday morning. So he catches a flight from Sydney at ten past nine the evening before. Yanmei and I go to the airport to see him off, and then she’s always a little downcast, because she loves her father so much, and she misses him when he’s away. So, as a special treat, I take her to that restaurant. Twelve times a year, without fail, be it summer or winter. Children need patterns; they need routine. Well, so do grown-ups, actually. Going to that restaurant is one of the constants in our life.’
‘I love the way,’ I began, feeling that I had nothing to lose now, by speaking my mind as clearly as possible, ‘– I love the way that you play cards together. It’s as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. And Yanmei is just like a miniature version of you.’ I glanced across to where she was poised on the edge of the swimming pool, summoning up the courage for a dive. ‘She sounds the same, her movements are the same, she looks just like you …’
‘Really?’ said Lian. ‘You think there’s a physical resemblance?’
‘Of course.’
‘But you know,’ she said, ‘Yanmei is not my biological daughter.’
‘She isn’t?’
‘No. Peter and I adopted her, three years ago. In fact, we don’t even have the same nationality. I come from Hong Kong, originally. Yanmei is from China – a city called Shenyang, in Liaoning province. So, perhaps the resemblance between us is only in your head. Perhaps it’s something you wanted to see.’