Outside, the blue bus was making its return trip, the tour guide’s nasal hollering still an assault on the ears. Before the liberation in 1949, Wangfujing was known as Morrison Street…And still no one was listening. A fresh bunch of people was posing with the brass statues. Margaret pushed Li Jon’s buggy to the junction, where the security men had returned to traffic duty, and flagged a taxi, fumbling in her pocket for the address Chi Lyang had written down for her after lunch.
The Jade Fingers Blind Massage Club was on the twenty-fifth floor of a new shopping mall in Chaoyang District, off the east Third Ring Road, just south of the Lufthansa Centre. Lyang was waiting for her in the reception room. ‘It’s all fixed,’ she said and nodded to one of two Chinese girls behind the desk who came to relieve Margaret of Li Jon and the buggy. Margaret looked anxiously as the girl wheeled her son away through swing doors. ‘Relax,’ Lyang said. ‘Let go. That’s what this place is for. Some time out from life. Enjoy it.’
Margaret said, ‘I haven’t had time out from life since I don’t know when.’
‘Then you’re long overdue.’
The other girl from Reception led them down a long, narrow corridor. Openings without doors led off into massage rooms every few metres. There was thick, soft carpet underfoot, and a hush suffused the place, broken only by the odd murmur of distant voices. Some of the rooms were empty. In others women swaddled in towels lay on massage tables, groaning while girls in white overalls worked strong fingers into soft flesh.
‘Don’t worry, it’s women-only,’ Lyang said, catching Margaret’s expression.
Margaret said, ‘Why is it called the blind massage club?’
‘Because all the masseuses are blind,’ Lyang said.
Margaret laughed. ‘Ask a silly question.’
Lyang said, ‘It’s a good job for a blind person, based solely on touch. Something I’m more than happy to support. And imagine, a blind masseuse has nothing to distract her. Her entire focus is on you, and the whole landscape of your body beneath her fingers.’
‘I thought we were having a foot massage.’
‘Today, yes. But some other time you must try the whole body massage. It leaves you feeling fantastic for the rest of the day.’
They turned into a room with two reclining armchairs, a footstool in front of each and a low table between them. The girl from Reception invited them to sit, and they arranged themselves comfortably in the chairs and removed their shoes and socks. A few moments later both receptionists returned with small wooden barrels lined with plastic and filled with hot, aromatic water. Scented herbs floated on the surface, their fragrance rising with the steam. A barrel was placed in front of each chair and Lyang and Margaret slipped their feet into the water. It was so hot Margaret almost had to withdraw her feet immediately, but the burning quickly subsided and she started to relax.
Lyang said, ‘They’ll leave us now to steep for about twenty minutes.’
Another girl brought in cups of jasmine tea and Margaret took a sip and allowed herself to unwind. A wave of fatigue washed over her and she closed her eyes, remembering the cry of the baby which had wakened her at five that morning. For the next hour and a half her oversensitised inner alarm system could take a break. Without opening her eyes she said, ‘So what was it about Bill Hart that made him worth giving up your job for?’
‘Oh, I didn’t give it up for him. I gave it up for me.’
A slight frown creased Margaret’s brow. ‘How do you mean?’
‘I fell in love,’ Lyang said simply. ‘What’s a girl gonna do? It was him or my job.’
‘And you didn’t resent that?’
‘Well, sure. But it wasn’t Bill I resented. It was the goddamned stupid rule we have about cops not marrying foreigners. And, anyway, I didn’t do anything he didn’t. He gave up a wellpaid job in the States to come and work in China for about a tenth of the money. That makes me feel good. It means he must love me, too.’
‘Didn’t you want to go and live in the States?’
‘Not really. This is my home. And besides, Bill wanted to come and live here. He still can’t get over the idea of a civilisation that’s five thousand years old.’
‘Well, of course, he comes from a country where the most exciting thing we’ve produced in two hundred years is the burger.’
Lyang laughed. ‘You sound just like him. His favourite gag just now is, what happens if you leave an American and a cup of yoghurt alone in a room for a week?’ She paused waiting for a response.
Margaret obliged. ‘And that would be?’
‘The yoghurt develops its own culture.’ Which brought a smile to Margaret’s lips. And Lyang added, almost apologetically, ‘I only tell it because he does.’
Margaret grinned, opening her eyes and tilting her head to look at her. ‘As long as you don’t tell it to Li Yan. I like giving him a hard time about China, and I hate giving him ammunition for return fire.’ She paused. ‘So what do you do all day every day?’
‘I still work.’
Margaret was taken aback. ‘Doing what?’
‘At the academy. It’s just part time, but I work mornings as Bill’s assistant. I know you don’t think very much of the polygraph…’
Margaret broke in, ‘I’d be lying if I told you otherwise.’
Lyang said, ‘And we’d know if you were.’ They both laughed. Then she said, ‘The truth is, Bill’s more of a scientist than a practitioner. The academy is employing him to develop something based on the polygraph which is more suited to the Chinese. He was responsible for persuading Lynn Pan to come to China to work on the Chinese version of MERMER.’ She hesitated and glanced over at Margaret. ‘You don’t work at all?’
‘I give the occasional lecture at the Public Security University.’
‘But no pathology?’
Margaret shook her head. ‘The Ministry is not particularly keen on Americans conducting autopsies on Chinese crime victims. I think they think it reflects badly on their own pathologists.’
‘But Bill said you’d done autopsy work for us before.’
‘Special circumstances,’ Margaret said. ‘And, then, when the baby came, things changed.’
‘How?’
‘Well, Li Yan and I are not married, for a start.’
‘Obviously.’
‘But we do live together.’
Lyang sat up, interested. ‘Yeah, I was going to ask you about that.’
Margaret waggled a finger at her. ‘That’s just it, you don’t ask. At least, that’s the position the Ministry takes. They don’t ask, we don’t tell, they don’t know. Officially. That way we get away with it — as long as we don’t marry.’
Lyang whistled softly. ‘And Li Yan wouldn’t think about giving up his job?’
‘I wouldn’t ask him,’ Margaret said. ‘It’s a part of him. It would be like asking him to cut off a leg.’ She sighed. ‘The upshot of it all, though, is that it’s no longer politic for him to request permission to use me for autopsies on special cases.’ She qualified herself. ‘On any cases.’
‘So you’re leading a life of leisure and pleasure as a mother and wife…well, almost wife?’
Margaret laughed. ‘No, I think the word I think you’re looking for is vegetating.’