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Chapters (23)
  1. Cover
  2. About Peter May
  3. By Peter May
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. INTRODUCTION
  7. PROLOGUE
  8. CHAPTER ONE
  9. CHAPTER TWO
  10. CHAPTER THREE
  11. CHAPTER FOUR
  12. CHAPTER FIVE
  13. CHAPTER SIX
  14. CHAPTER SEVEN
  15. CHAPTER EIGHT
  16. CHAPTER NINE
  17. CHAPTER TEN
  18. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  19. CHAPTER TWELVE
  20. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  21. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  22. EPILOGUE
  23. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

It seemed like a long time later, and Lotus had her by the arm, and she thought they must be going to the little girls’ room. There was a very large step up, and she almost fell. Somewhere in the distance she heard Li’s voice. He seemed to be calling her name. He didn’t think she should be doing this, whatever it was she was doing. Perversely, it made her more determined to do it. And suddenly there were a lot of bright lights in her eyes and faces turned up towards her, and a sound like running water. Only it wasn’t running water. It just sounded like it. And then she realised it was people clapping. Lotus put something in her hand. It was heavy and tubular with a mesh ball on the end. “What’s this?” she asked, and heard her voice booming around the club. More running water.

Lotus turned her to her left and she saw a blue screen, words frozen on it in white. Yesterday . . . The sound of an acoustic guitar. Lotus’s voice. “You sing.” But she couldn’t, and missed the first line, and Lotus leaned close and sang instead. Now it look a though they hee to stay . . . All she could see now was Michael’s face. All she could hear was his voice. I didn’t do it, Mags. And she felt the tears running hot down her face as Lotus’s grotesque parody of the Beatles’ original forced its way into her consciousness, each word stinging like a slap in the face. She had thought the pain would be all gone now. But Michael seemed to want to go on hurting her for the rest of her life. He took her in his arms now, saying something softly in her ear, but she couldn’t make out what it was. He led her back down the high step, past the running water. She felt fresh cool air in her face. She turned to look at him, with the weary anticipation of more earnest protestations of innocence. But it wasn’t Michael after all. Of course, she remembered, she was in China. And Michael was dead. And these people were speaking another language.

“Where are you going to take her, Li?” Yongli wasn’t exactly sober himself.

“Back to the apartment.”

“Do you need help with her?” Lotus said.

Li nodded. “Yes. Please.”