By Christine Coleman
(Second of Two Excerpts)
The following comes from Paper Lanterns (Novel Press, 2010, Birmingham, England, 287 pages), a novel by British author Christine Coleman set mainly on Hong Kong's outlying Lamma Island. Ann, the protagonist, has flown to Hong Kong to visit her long-estranged mother and then received papers and letters that had belonged to her beloved grandmother, Belle. The following fictional diary extracts, set in Hong Kong in 1930, were inspired by Coleman's discovery of real-life letters written by a married English woman living in 1920s Canton. Jimmy, mentioned below, is Belle's husband. Harry is her little son. R is Rupert McFarlane, a man with whom she and her friend, Ivy, flirt.
Saturday 16th April
It has been difficult to find moments of solitude in which to make my entries. A delightful afternoon yesterday. Took Harry to the Botanic Gardens, where he was at first frightened, and then enchanted, by the sight of the caged beasts. I have to admit that I find that raw, jungle smell disturbing – but at the same time, strangely exhilarating.
Ivy and R were with us, but deep in conversation with each other for much of the time. I begin to wonder about his intentions towards her. Perhaps it would not be too upsetting if they become engaged – though that would put an end to anything between him and me beyond simple friendship.
I think it would be for the best.
But not quite yet! Especially after his visit to our house this morning. He appeared surprised not to see Jimmy, but he would surely have known that the golf club would have been the place to find him!
He said he will join us all at Shek O for a picnic luncheon tomorrow.
Monday 17th April
What an amusing outing that was! Jimmy was in good form and being most attentive to Ivy. This gave R the chance to challenge me to a swimming race.
The sea was unusually calm and flat, and we swam to the rocks at the far end. We clambered out and dried off in the hot sun for a few minutes. Although we were in full view of the others, we could not be overheard.
R admired my swimming style, and then, my costume, particularly the way it revealed more of my shapely legs! I tapped him on the side of his leg, just above his knee, and told him he must not speak to me like this. I had given him a harder blow than I’d intended, for the trace of my fingers remained imprinted on his skin for a few seconds. Of course, he then declared that he would treasure that part of his leg forever, at which I laughed and slid down into the water again.
Wednesday 19th April
Two more "sightings" of R since Sunday – once on Monday when he and Bing called round to our house on their way out to dine at Bing's club. Jimmy was deep in conversation with Bing about the relative merits of the Shameen district of Canton as a work base, compared to Shanghai or Hong Kong – a conversation in which I would normally join with enthusiasm – but R and I were able to snatch a few minutes and arrange to meet for an outing the following morning.
We met at Kennedy Road for The Peak tram, a contraption that always amuses me. It is more like riding in a lift than a street tram. The rails are so steep in parts as to be almost vertical, and I was able to cling to R's arm. This was not entirely a ruse, though I confess I did somewhat exaggerate the extent of my vertigo!
We set out on our stroll around the summit of Victoria Peak along the narrow and mainly deserted Lugard Road, where we halted from time to time and gazed down on the tall buildings and busy streets of Central district, and the stretch of sea beyond it to Kowloon on the mainland. I felt totally at ease in R's company and realised we had both moved beyond the conventions of the silly game of flirting. How much more satisfying was our total absorption in discovering the details of each other's lives – our interests – our hopes and dreams! This is more dangerous by far.
I must ensure that Ivy accompanies me on any further outings. How ironic that playing at the game of being physically attracted to another should be safer than straightforward discussions that might lead to a meeting of minds!
Thursday 20th April
I was more careful yesterday evening when Ivy and her mother hosted a small party at their hotel. There were two other couples present and we all played charades. Ivy and I took every opportunity of snatching a few moments with R, but I, at least, was involved in my own charade. I can actually feel a kind of protective layer around me when I step back into the role of "flirt". It is strangely comforting.
I told R that I thought I had left my scarf (a present from Jimmy) in the tram carriage on our descent from The Peak on Tuesday. He declared that he would go back at the earliest opportunity and see if it had been handed in.
This secured me a reason for sending him a brief letter this morning after I had helped Ivy at the Shooting Club. I believe that the tone of this letter will ensure he regards me as nothing more than a flirt. It may even make him despise me a little, for on Tuesday he revealed a far more serious and principled individual beneath the recent, rather flippant, exterior. So be it.
But why should we not be friends, he and I? Why do I become increasingly uneasy, the more I reflect upon Tuesday's delightful and innocent outing? It is this very innocence that is the danger – if indeed that is the correct word for our friendship. Innocence is for children – it is linked to a lack of awareness. Naïvety would be a better word, perhaps.
It is time for him to turn his full attention towards Ivy. Most of his attention. Surely I can safely reserve just a little of it for myself?
Editor's Note: In Hong Kong, Coleman's novel sells mainly at Swindon Books. For more information, visit the author's Website: www.christinecoleman.net.
ARCHIVES |
|
