At home she was so much fun it almost made you lazy. We were as childish as our kid. We bought her whatever she wanted. If she liked it, so did we.
Soon we were trawling around the department stores, picking and choosing, my daughter dragging me along like an idiot in her wake. I still had my arms wrapped round that bag with the binoculars. They seemed to have their infrared lenses fixed on me, driving me frantic. The assistant at the toy counter looked like he was on to me. He kept glancing at me and then at my daughter.
My daughter was holding a blue Pikachu kitty.
‘How much is that?’ asked my wife.
‘Fifty yuan,’ said the man, holding out five fingers.
Fifty yuan for a piece of old rubbish like that? My wife just reached in her purse. She hardly ever bargained. I’d always liked that about her, especially before we got married. I was going to earn the money, after all, and what’s the point of earning it unless you spend it? But now I couldn’t bear her buying it.
‘No,’ I said.
‘I want it!’ screamed my daughter.
‘What about a discount?’ asked my wife.
‘That’s already a discount,’ said the assistant. ‘This Pikachu kitty is a best seller.’
‘We’re not getting it!’ I shouted.
‘I want it!’ screamed my daughter.
‘Give it back!’ I ordered.
My daughter started to make a run for it. I chased after her.
‘No!’ she shouted and hugged it to her chest, on the point of tears.
The assistant gave us a pitying look. He knew we’d have to buy it to cover up the emptiness of our lives.
‘Can’t you see how much she likes it?’ he said. ‘What price a child’s happiness? I’m sure you do everything just for her, don’t you.’
This was pure emotional blackmail.
‘OK, let her have it,’ said my wife. ‘She really wants it.’
‘No!’ I said, grabbing for the toy.
My daughter ran off, shouting ‘I want it!’
A crowd of people was staring at us, some of them familiar faces. Why was I behaving like this? I had more important matters to deal with. I still had those things it the bag, but instead of acting discreetly, I was making myself the centre of attention. But there was no way I was going to just stop and slink away.
‘The money’s nothing to you, is it, sir?’ the assistant said. ‘A big company boss like you, a very successful man … ’
‘No I’m not!’ I said.
‘Then how can you afford to live in a posh area like this?’ he said with a smile.
‘I don’t live here.’
He smiled again. It made my skin crawl. It was true. I was rich. Or rather, I had money enough for people to try and con me or blackmail me. I had money to bribe clients and splash it around, enough money to anaesthetise myself. Dammit, I had money but so what?
‘Just buy it,’ my wife said.
‘I’m not giving in,’ I yelled. ‘I’d rather throw my money in the sea.’ The whole shop was trying to get me to buy it now. ‘Just mind your own business,’ I shouted. ‘Get off to your hellhole homes!’
I lashed out at one of the men in the front of the crowd, sending him reeling.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ screeched my wife. ‘You’ve been like this for a week. If you hate your wife and daughter so much, why don’t you just tell us?’
She wasn’t going to let me forget this. She was sick and tired of me, just as I was heartily sick of her. I smiled.
‘Dad doesn’t love us,’ my daughter said. I couldn’t believe it. My wife shot me a glance and tried to shush our daughter. She had a guilty conscience too. But the kid went on. ‘I know who Daddy loves.’
My wife went pale.
‘Daddy’s in love with someone else.’
‘Quiet!’ my wife yelled.
‘It’s true, it’s true! Daddy’s in love with someone else!’
I gave the child a slap and she burst into tears.
My wife took our daughter in her arms.
‘Don’t you dare hit her!’
I slapped the girl again. Blood trickled from her nose. There was no going back now.
‘What way is that to treat a child?’ shouted my wife, incandescent with rage. ‘What does she know about anything? How could you? What kind of a father are you? What kind of a husband are you?’
What kind of a husband was I? I didn’t visit prostitutes. I didn’t keep a mistress. I’d provided well for both of them. I’d done more than enough.
7
I don’t know how my daughter discovered my secret. She was only three years old but she could see right through me. Maybe it was my wife. She always had tabs on me. I must have let something slip when I was going out. Or perhaps I’d said something about the woman upstairs, something that made her quietly fix her eyes on me, and the kid had picked up on it. The thought of all that happening right in front of my nose — completely without my knowledge — made me shudder.
That flat opposite seemed to have been made for me. I couldn’t imagine why it was still deserted. Our neighbourhood had the hottest properties in town, people usually snapped them up as soon as they went on the market. The window was easy to open, and I never met anyone hanging around. And it was bang opposite my own balcony. Maybe this flat was a trap, a trap set especially for me. Didn’t I see someone standing at the window, right at the start? I went over there to investigate, started spying myself, and the result was that I became the person spied upon. I was getting paranoid.
I was convinced the woman had seen me and my wife arguing in the street, that she’d heard the noise, rushed to the balcony, looked down and seen me. I longed for her to ask what the trouble was. ‘Problems in our sex life,’ I would have said. But she never asked, even when I met her in the lift, even though there was no one else around. I was desolate.
I didn’t dare go to the flat. The next day I didn’t go to work. I couldn’t stay still, I just wandered around, waiting for darkness. And then? Well, then I wanted to go to the flat so that I could see her. See her sitting up in bed, see how she sat up.
I called Water. I wanted to talk about women — I’d never done that before. But his mobile was switched off. He must have been hanging out with some whore, maybe fucking her right at that moment, for all I knew. I pictured the woman in my mind, the sordid scene. What a loser. I wandered down the street. The day dragged on and on, until darkness fell and the city glowed red.
Still no answer from Water.
I sneaked back into the building opposite. People stared at me in the lift, but I stared back. I didn’t care if they saw me. I just needed to see with my own eyes how bleak her life was. The world was full of wretched people like her. She sat up in the darkness, but he ignored her, and he would ignore her no matter whether she sat up or not. He didn’t care whether she sat up or lay down. Even if she sat up in bed all night, that husband of hers would never talk to her. He was dreaming about other women.
The darkness hid his infidelity.
But they weren’t at home. Perhaps they were still out for a stroll. I waited. I waited a long time, but I was ready to wait all night long to share her loneliness. I was too tired to stand, so I crouched down and rested my chin on the windowsill. I didn’t dare take my eyes off their window. They came back. I stood up. They were talking. Finally it was bedtime. They got into bed. The way she stood at the head of the bed in her nightie almost broke my heart. The light went out. They lay side by side. Through the binoculars, their bodies glowed. She hadn’t taken her nightie off.
He took her in his arms.
Then he kissed her.
He began to caress her. She was lying with her eyes shut. He lay on his side, his movements slow and very gentle. Starting at the top and going down, he stroked every part of her, not missing an inch, like a real expert. Slowly, gradually, his hands reached down to her crotch. She trembled as his hands moved in, delicately, then accepted his touch and lay still, her eyes still shut. He just lay next to her, using his hands to bring her to a climax. Time passed slowly, freakishly slowly. Finally, she gave a shudder. She gripped his hand tight. Then she turned towards him and embraced him, panting, her head on his chest, bliss written on her face. But how could this be happening? I wanted to burst through their window and rescue her from all his lies.