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Authors: James Clavell

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Sagas, #Adult Trade

Tai-Pan (17 page)

BOOK: Tai-Pan
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“Cow chillo out! Plenty quick-quick, savvy?” Struan said.

“You want cow chillo, heya? Cow chillo plenty good bed jig-jig. Two dollar never mind,” the girl called out.

The servant grabbed her and her hat fell off, and Struan saw her face clearly for the first time. She was barely recognizable because of the grime and he collapsed with laughter. The servant gaped at him as though he were mad and released the girl.

“This piece cow chillo,” Struan said through his laughter, “Stay can, never mind.”

The girl tidied her verminous clothes irately and shouted another torrent of invective at the departing servant.

“Cow chillo plenty good you see, Tai-Pan.”

“And you, May-may!” Struan stared down at her. “What the hell’re you doing here, and what the hell’s the filth for?”

“Cow chillo think you dooa jig-jig with new cow chillo, heya?”

“God’s blood, lassie, we’re alone now! Stop using pidgin! I’ve spent enough time and money teaching you the queen’s English!” Struan lifted her up at arms length. “Great God, May-may, you stink to high heaven.”

“You would too if you wear these smell clotheses.”


Had to
 wear these 
smelly clothes
,” he said, correcting her automatically. “What are you doing here, and why the smell clotheses?”

“Put me down, Tai-Pan.” He did, and she bowed sadly. “I arrive here in secret and in great sadness for you lost your Supreme Lady and all children by her but one son.” The tears streaked the grime on her face. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Thank you, lass. Aye. But that’s done now, and no grief can bring them back.” He patted her head and fondled her cheek, touched by her compassion.

“I do not know your custom. How long should I dress in mourning?”

“No mourning, May-may. They’re gone. There’s to be no weeping and no mourning.”

“I burned incense for their safe rebirth.”

“Thank you. Now, what are you doing here, and why did you leave Macao? I told you to stay there.”

“First bath, then change, then talk.”

“We’ve no clothes here, May-may.”

“My worthless amah, Ah Gip, is downstair. She carries clothes and my things, never mind. Where is bath?”

Struan pulled the bell cord and immediately the wide-eyed servant appeared.

“Cow chillo my bath, savvy? Amah can dooa. Get chow!” Then to May-may, “You say what chow can.”

May-may chattered at the gaping servant imperiously, and left.

Her peculiar swaying gait never failed to move Struan. May-may had bound feet. They were only three inches long. When Struan had bought her five years ago he had cut off the bandages and been horrified at the deformity that ancient customs had decreed was a girl’s essential sign of beauty—tiny feet. Only a girl with bound feet—
lotus feet
—could be a wife or concubine. Those with normal feet were peasants, servants, low-class prostitutes, amahs or workers, and despised.

May-may’s feet were crippled. Without the binding tightness of the bandages her agony had been pitiful. So Struan had allowed the bandages to be replaced, and after a month the pain had lessened and May-may could walk again. Only in old age did bound feet become insensible to pain.

Struan had asked her then, using Gordon Chen as interpreter, how it was done. She had told him proudly that her mother had begun to bind her feet when she was six. “The bindings were bandages two inches wide and twelve feet long and they were damp. My mother wrapped them tightly around my feet—around the heel and over the instep and under the foot, bending the four small toes under the sole of the foot and leaving the big toe free. As the bandages dried they tightened and the pain was terrible. Over the months and years the heel closes near to the toe and the instep arches. Once a week the bandages are taken off for a few minutes and the feet cleaned. After some years the little toes become shriveled and dead and are removed. When I was almost twelve I could walk quite well, but my feet were still not small enough. It was then that my mother consulted a woman wise in the art of foot binding. On my twelfth birthday the wise woman came to our house with a sharp knife and ointments. She made a deep knife cut across the middle of the soles of my feet. This deep split allowed the heel to be squeezed closer to the toes, when the bandages were replaced.”

“What cruelty! Ask her how she stood the pain.”

Struan remembered her quizzical look as Chen translated the question and as she replied in charming singsong.

“She says, ‘For every pair of bound feet there is a lake of tears. But what are tears and pain? Now I am not ashamed to let anyone measure my feet.’ She wants you to measure them, Mr. Struan.”

“I will na do such a thing!”

“Please, sir. It will make her very proud. They are perfect, in Chinese fashion. If you don’t, she will feel that you’re ashamed of her. She will lose face terribly in front of you.”

“Why?”

“She thinks you took the bandages off because you thought she was cheating you.”

“Why should I think that?”

“Because you’re—well, she’s never known a European. Please, sir. It is only your pride in her that repays all the tears.”

So he had measured her feet and expressed the joy that he did not feel, and she kowtowed three times to him. He hated to see men and women kowtowing, kneeling, their foreheads touching the floor. But ancient custom demanded this obeisance from an inferior to a superior and Struan could not forbid it. If he protested, May-may would be frightened again and she would lose face in front of Gordon Chen.

“Ask her if her feet hurt her now.”

“They will always hurt her, sir. But I assure you it would pain her much more if she had big, disgusting feet.”

May-may then had said something to Chen, and Struan recognized the word 
fan-quai,
 which meant “devil barbarian.”

“She wants to know how to please a non-Chinese,” Gordon said.

“Tell her fan-quai are no different from Chinese.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And tell her that you are going to teach her English. Immediately. Tell her no one’s to know you’re teaching her. No one’s to know she can speak English. In front of others she’s to speak Chinese only, or pidgin, which you’ll also teach her. Lastly, you will protect her with your life.”

 

“May I come in now?” May-may was standing in the doorway, bowing delicately.

“Please.”

Her face was oval, her eyes almond-shaped and her eyebrows perfect crescents. A perfume surrounded her now, and her long, flowing robe was of the finest blue silk brocade. Her hair was dressed in crescents on the top of her head and adorned with jade pins. She was tall for a Chinese and her skin so white as to be almost translucent. She was from the province of Soochow.

Though Struan had bought her from Jin-qua and had haggled many weeks over the price, he knew that actually T’chung May-may was Jin-qua’s gift to him in return for many favors over the years; that Jin-qua could have sold her easily to the richest man in China, to a Manchu prince, even to the emperor, for her weight in jade—let alone the fifteen thousand taels of silver which they finally agreed on. She was unique, and priceless.

Struan lifted her up and kissed her gently. “Now, tell me what’s going on.” He sat in the deep chair and held her in his arms.

“First, I came disguised because of danger. Na only to me but to you. The reward still is on your head. And kidnaping for ransom is ancient custom.”

“Where did you leave the children?”

“With Elder Sister, of course,” she replied. Elder Sister was what May-may called Struan’s ex-mistress Kai-sung, as was the custom, though they were not related. And now Kai-sung was the third wife of Struan’s compradore. Yet between May-may and Kai-sung there was intense affection, and Struan knew that the children would be safe and cherished as if they were her own.

“Good,” he said. “How are they?”

“Duncan has the black eye. He tripped down, so I whipped his turtledung amah till my arm she fell off. Duncan has a bad temper from barbarian blood.”

“From you—na from me. Kate?”

“She has her second tooth. That very lucky. Before second birthday.” She nestled in his arms a moment. “Then I read paper. That man Skinner. More bad joss, heya? That lump of dogmeat Brock is breaking you by huge monies owed. Is it true?”

“Part’s true. Aye, unless there’s a change in joss, we’re broke. No more silk and perfumes and jades and houses,” he teased.

“Ayeeeee yah!” she said with a toss of her head. “You’re na the only man in China.”

He slapped her on the rump and she hacked at him with her long nails, and he caught her wrist neatly.

“Dinna say that again,” he said, and kissed her passionately.

“God’s blood,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “Now look wat you’ve done to my hair. That lazy whore Ah Gip spent one hour doing it, never mind.”

She knew that she pleased him greatly, and she was proud that she could now, at twenty, read and write English and Chinese, and speak English and Cantonese as well as her own dialect of Soochow, and also Mandarin, the language of Peking and the court of the emperor; and also that she knew much of what Gorden Chen had learned at school for he had taught her well, and between them was great affection. May-may knew that she was unique in all China.

There was a discreet knock on the door.

“A European?” she whispered.

“Nay, lass. It’s only a servant. They’ve orders to announce everyone. Aye?”

The servant was followed by two others and they all averted their eyes from Struan and the girl. But their curiosity was obvious, and they dawdled over laying out the dishes of Chinese food and chopsticks.

May-may assaulted them with a torrent of Cantonese and they bowed nervously and scuttled away.

“What did you say to them?” Struan asked.

“I just warned them, by God, if they told anyone I was here I’d personally slit their tongues and cut their ears off and then I’d persuade you to chain them in one of your ships and sink it in the ocean along with their godrotting wives and children and parents, and before that you’d put your Evil Eye on the godrotting scum and their godrotting scum offspring forever.”

“Stop cursing, you bloodthirsty little devil! And stop joking about Evil Eye.”

“That’s no joke. That’s what you have, devil barbarian. To all but me. I know how to handle you.”

“Devil take you, May-may.” He intercepted her hands and the intimate caress. “Eat while the food’s hot and I’ll deal with you later.” He picked her up and carried her over to the table.

She served him quick-fried shrimps and lean pork and mushrooms stewed delicately in soya and nutmeg and mustard and honey, then helped herself.

“God’s death, I’m hungry,” she said.

“Will you na stop swearing!”

“You forgot the ‘by God,’ Tai-Pan!” She beamed and began to eat with great relish.

He picked up the chopsticks and used them deftly. He found the food superb. It had taken him months to acquire the taste. None of the Europeans ate Chinese food. Struan, too, had once preferred the solid fare of old England, but May-may had taught him that it was healthier to eat as the Chinese did.

“How did you get here?” Struan asked.

May-may selected one of the large prawns that were fried and then stewed in soya-flavored syrup and herbs, and daintily she decapitated it and began to peel off the skin. “I bought passage on a lorcha. I buy fantastical cheap steerage ticket and dirtied myself for safety. You owe me fifty cash.”

“Pay it out of your allowance. I did na ask you here.”

“This cow chillo dooa cash easy can, never mind.”

“Stop it and behave yoursel’.”

She laughed and offered him the prawn and began to peel another.

“Thanks, no more for me.”

“Eat them. They’re very good for you. I tell you many times they make you very healthy and very potent.”

“Give over, lass.”

“They do,” she said, very serious. “Prawns are very good for your vigor. Very important to have plenty of vigor! A wife must look after her husband.” She cleaned her fingers on an embroidered napkin, then picked up one of the prawn heads with her chopsticks.

“Dammit, May-may, do you have to eat the heads?”

“Aye, by God, do you na ken they’re the best part?” she said, mimicking him, and laughed so much she choked. He thumped her on the back, but gently, and then she drank some tea.

“That’ll teach you,” he said.

“The heads are the best part, even so, never mind.”

“Even so, they look dreadful, never mind.”

She ate in silence a moment. “It is bad with Brock?”

“Bad.”

“It is terrifical simple to solve this badness. Kill Brock. It is time now.”

“That’s one way.”

“One way, another way, you will find a way.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“You do not want to lose me.”

“Why should I lose you?”

“I dinna enjoy second-best either. I belong to 
the
 Tai-Pan. I’m na a godrotting Hakka or boat woman or Cantonese whore. Tea?”

“Aye.”

“Drinking tea with food is very good for you. Then you will never get fat.” She poured the tea and offered him the cup gracefully. “I like you when you’re angry, Tai-Pan. But you dinna frighten me. I know I please you too much, as you please me too much. When I am second-best another will take my place, never mind. That is joss. For me. And also for you.”

“Perhaps you’re second-best now, May-may.”

“No, Tai-Pan, not now. Later, yes, but not now.” She bent over him and kissed him and slid away as he tried to hold her.

“Ayee yah, I must not feed you so many prawns!” She ran from him laughing, but he caught her and she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. “You owe me fifty cash!”

“Devil take you!” He kissed her, needing her, as much as she needed him.

“You taste so very good. First we play backgammon.”

“No.”

“First we play backgammon, then we make love. There’s plenty of time. I stay with you now. We play for one dolla point.”

“No.”

“One dolla point. Maybe I get headache, too tired.”

“Maybe I won’t give you the New Year’s present I was thinking about.”

BOOK: Tai-Pan
2.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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