Mr Ma and Son (30 page)

‘Ha ha! Ha ha!’ Mary was still laughing hysterically, and her face was bright red. Then, after a few more laughs, she laid her head on the piano and began to cry.

Napoleon ran to the Reverend Ely, cocked his head on one side and looked quizzically at him.

E
VERYWHERE WAS
green in
Welwyn Garden City
, and during summer the scent of flowers was in every street. There was only one big shop in town, and it sold everything. The whole place used electricity, the use of coal being forbidden so as to keep the air pure. Only a few of the streets were thoroughfares for traffic, which made everything tranquil day and night.

The whole town was close to nature, but the maintenance of this closeness all depended on science. Electricity, the new forms of architecture and horticulture in the houses and gardens, and the layout of the streets – all were scientific. This use of science was a great improvement on nature. To make the new town so very natural, so very clean, so fine and beautiful, and so very hygienic, was something that could never have existed without scientific knowledge.

Intellectually, science is a quest for absolute truth, and in its practical applications it can provide a certain amount of happiness for humankind. Those who misuse science don’t understand science, and attacking science because of the misuses to which it is put is likewise a misunderstanding of science. There are but two joys in human life: the quest for truth and the pleasures of the senses. Only science can cater for both.

The two young men had taken a bus out to Barnet, and from there walked to the new town. They followed the railway line, with pretty scenery all the way. The green grass-covered land bobbed up and down, and the woods were sparse one moment and dense the next. Private houses lay scattered all over the place, some hiding behind trees, some standing in isolation along the roadside. In the small gardens of some were a few white hens, while in others there hung white shirts, and everything had a distinctly cosy, homely air about it.

There were people out walking, both along the road and in the woods. Old ladies grasping umbrellas and wearing complicated hats were heading for church. Young boys and girls were strolling round side by side in the woods, and other youngsters rode off on bicycles into the more distant countryside. Middle-aged men in white jackets were taking their children into the grassy meadows to watch the cows, the pigs, the birds and so forth. Bands of children were playing football or tumbling around on the grass.

Most of the working-class men had small clay pipes in their mouths, and, newspapers in hand, were standing at the doors of their houses reading. Sometimes they too would pop into the meadows for a chat and a joke with the sheep and cows.

The English countryside’s very pretty. Everywhere’s green, and everything’s so natural and unaffected – not to mention peaceful.

‘Li, old fellow,’ said Ma Wei, ‘what’s your view of Miss Ely’s affair? I don’t suppose you agree with her?’

Li Tzu-jung was absorbed in the contemplation of an evergreen tree covered in red berries, and he didn’t seem to have heard what Ma Wei had said.

‘Eh? What? Oh, Miss Ely? There’s nothing about her I’d find fault with. Very beautiful, those red berries on that tree, don’t you think?’

Ma Wei casually glanced at them. ‘Oh yes, they are.’ Then he asked, ‘Don’t you consider her conduct strange?’

‘What’s strange about it?’ said Li Tzu-jung, smiling. ‘That sort of thing often happens. I certainly wouldn’t take the risk, though. With her, well, she’s so capable. And she’s got her wits about her, and knows what she’s doing. She wants to live with a man, so she goes and does it. She’s free to do it, and she can be a help to him. And if she decides she no longer wants to be with him, all they have to do is separate, and she can go her way and earn her own keep. You see, she writes pretty good English, can type and do shorthand, she’s good at organising things, and she’s not bad-looking, either. So what’s she got to be afraid of?

‘Anybody who tries living the new way has got to have something up here.’ Li Tzu-jung tapped his head knowingly. ‘They’d never survive without real skills; ranting wild slogans won’t get them anywhere. Let me tell you, old Ma, the one thing I admire about foreigners is their ability to earn money! Take that old bird, Mrs Ely. She earns three or four hundred a year. Look at Mary. Like a little cloth doll, but she’s got a gift for selling hats. Look at that rude old blunderbuss Alexander: he can write scenarios for a film company. And that fellow at the museum I met last week: a poet of sorts, and able to translate Chinese poems, so he makes money by doing it. I asked him, “Chinese poetry must be worthwhile, otherwise you wouldn’t translate it, would you?” Guess what he said? “Chinese things are very fashionable nowadays, and you can make some easy cash translating a bit of Chinese poetry.”

‘Yes, they’re real dab hands at making money, really terrific. And that’s the only reason that their fine arts, music and literature can flourish as they do, because if money’s in short supply you don’t have time for the sort of mental luxury that creates the arts. Just ask yourself how much that roomful of antiques of Lord Simon’s is worth! And he told me that when he dies, he’s going to leave the lot to the British Museum. Does any Chinese person leave a roomful of antiques to a museum? When you can’t even afford a doughnut, who’s going to buy antiques? What a joke!

‘It’s only when you’ve got plenty of money that you’re likely to start splashing it around. It’s only when you’ve got plenty of money that you can promote the arts and charities. Money’s not a bad thing if people use it for a noble cause. I hope I become a wealthy man, then I’ll fork out my millions and set up a library, run a good newspaper, start up a museum, an art gallery, a new theatre . . . and so many other things. Yes, so many things – so many worthwhile things!’

Li Tzu-jung inhaled a breath of air. The air was wonderfully fragrant and sweet.

Ma Wei was still thinking about Miss Ely’s affair, and had tuned out as Li Tzu-jung spoke. ‘Poor Mary!’ Ma Wei gave a sigh.

‘You haven’t heard a word of what I’ve been saying, have you, old Ma?’ Li Tzu-jung was exasperated.

‘Yes, I heard you. I heard it all.’ Ma Wei smiled. ‘But poor Mary.’

‘Sod your Mary, and your Catherine! Poor? I’m the one to be pitied. Slaving away dawn till dusk, and still can’t make my fortune,’ bellowed Li Tzu-jung, flinging his arms and legs around in wild gestures, and scaring a flock of small birds out of the trees.

Ma Wei said nothing more, just walked on, marching forwards for all he was worth. His head was bowed, as if weighed down by an excess of thoughts.

Li Tzu-jung didn’t utter a word either, but stretched his stocky legs, and began to keep pace with Ma Wei. The two of them walked three miles without a stop, puffing and panting from their exertions. Their faces were red all over, and their fingers began to swell. Neither was going to slow down for the other, and neither spoke. They just walked and walked, more and more energetically.

Ma Wei looked at Li Tzu-jung, and Li Tzu-jung threw out his chest. Both of them carried on walking.

‘Poor Mary!’ said Li Tzu-jung suddenly, imitating Ma Wei’s tone of voice.

Ma Wei halted, and looked at him. ‘You’re deliberately making fun of me, old Li,’ he said. ‘What about Mary? And what’s poor about her?’

‘Well, you’re always telling me I’m too down-to-earth,’ said Li Tzu-jung, ‘so I’ll have to learn to be a bit more sentimental, won’t I?’

They walked on more slowly.

‘You don’t understand me, Li, old fellow,’ said Ma Wei, grasping Li Tzu-jung’s arm. ‘To tell the truth, I still can’t stop thinking about Mary. There’s just nothing I can do about it. Keeps me awake till midnight sometimes – honestly, it does. I think desperately about your advice, about how hopeless my father is, about my career, about studies and learning, but whatever I try to think about, I can’t get her out of my mind. She’s more beautiful than a fairy, and at the same time more dreadful than any demon!’

‘Ma, my dear lad, you and me are like brothers to each other, so may I, once more, advise you, whatever you do, to cut out the crazy notions!’ said Li Tzu-jung very sincerely. ‘I think she’ll sue Washington, and get at least five or six hundred pounds’ damages. With that sum of money, when she gets all dolled up and has her photo in the papers, I guarantee that within three months she’ll be married to some other bloke. Foreigners are scared stiff of the papers, but only too glad to have their name and photo appear in them. A bit of publicity goes a long way. Who knows who young Mary is now? Nobody! But once she hits the headlines, she’s made. She’ll get maybe several hundred letters a day proposing to her, and your prospects’ll be absolutely nil. Forget it, old Ma!’

‘No, you don’t know Mary. She wouldn’t do things like that,’ said Ma Wei very emphatically.

‘Just wait and see. She’d get rich and famous in one go, and she’s no fool. Anyhow, the law’s the law, and Washington’ll be done for
breach of promise
.’

‘So there’s no hope for me?’ Ma Wei sounded very dejected.

Li Tzu-jung shook his head.

‘I’ll have another try, and if she refuses me again, I’ll give it up,’ said Ma Wei.

‘As you like,’ said Li Tzu-jung in a disapproving tone.

‘Tell you what, old Li, I’ll have a word with her, and then I’ll have everything out quite frankly with my father about the shop. If she turns me down, there’s nothing I can do about it. But if my father won’t listen to me, I’m out the door. If he refuses to bother about anything, and just keeps on wasting money, there’s no point in any further discussion. I’ve got to study. I can’t stick around in a shop all day. I’ve put up with it all these months, but the fact’s lost on him. Unless I spell it out for him, he’ll never understand my side of things. I’ve got to tell him.’

‘Yes, it’d be a very good thing to tell him straight, without beating around the bush. But —’ Li Tzu-jung was looking at the milestone by the roadside. ‘Ha, we’re nearly there. It’s almost one o’clock. Where shall we go for a bite to eat? Bound to be no restaurants in the new town.’

‘Never mind. There may be a pub at the station where we can get a glass of beer and a couple of sandwiches. That’ll do,’ said Ma Wei.

Not far from the station there was a slope with a fair number of pine trees on it. The two young men sat on the slope, and gazed over the new town. The houses, big and small, were all built at the foot of the slope, and beyond the houses lay a smooth, shiny highway, the main Cambridge road, along which cars sped to and fro, looking like tiny black shuttles. The sky was overcast but there wasn’t any mist, and far away you could even see
the old city of Welwyn
, the spires of its churches towering up above the treetops like great bamboo shoots. Between the two cities lay an unbroken stretch of undulating green land, on which sheep and cows grazed in paddocks. As a flock of sheep began to run, it looked like one long drift of snow blown astir by the wind.

The two young men watched for a while, reluctant to move. Then the church clocks gently struck one o’clock.

After he got back from Welwyn Garden City, Ma Wei waited patiently for a time to chat with Mary, but the chance never arose.

One evening, Mrs Wedderburn had rather a headache, and went to bed early. Mr Ma had gone out after dinner, telling no one where he was going. Mary was sitting alone in the drawing room, holding Napoleon, and, with a gloomy face, telling the dog her troubles. Ma Wei gave a cough outside the door, then pushed the door open and went in.

‘Hello, Ma Wei.’

‘Ah, Mary, you didn’t go out?’ said Ma Wei, and came over to play with Napoleon.

‘Ma Wei, would you help me?’ asked Mary.

‘How could I help you?’ Ma Wei moved nearer to her.

‘Tell me where Washington is, will you?’ she said, with a forced smile.

‘I don’t know. Honest.’

‘Never mind. If you don’t know, it doesn’t matter.’ She pouted with disappointment.

‘Mary,’ he said, moving even closer. ‘Mary, are you still in love with Washington? Couldn’t you give someone who really loves you a break?’

‘I hate him.’ Mary drew herself back from Ma Wei. ‘I hate you men.’

‘There are some good men.’ Ma Wei reddened a little, and his heart was pounding.

Mary giggled, most unnaturally. ‘You go and buy a bottle of wine, Ma Wei, and we’ll have a drink, eh? I’m awfully fed up. In fact, I’m nearly at my wit’s end!’

‘All right, I’ll go and buy one. What do you want to drink?’

‘Anything’ll do, long as it’s strong. I don’t know anything about wines.’

Ma Wei nodded, put his hat on, and went out.

‘Ma Wei, my cheeks are all red. They’re ever so hot. You feel them.’

Ma Wei felt Mary’s cheeks, and, sure enough, they were very hot.

‘Let’s feel yours.’ Mary’s eyes were extraordinarily bright and shiny, and her cheeks were red, like cherry-apple blossoms in the morning sun.

He clasped her hand, his whole body trembling, and a stream of heat flowing across his back. He picked up her hand, like some piece of cotton wool, and put it to his lips. The back of her hand rose lightly to meet his mouth . . . Still holding her hand, he put his other arm round her, and moved his lips to hers.

The heat of her cheeks and her shoulders enveloped him, and he lost all awareness of anything else, and could only hear the leaping of his heart. He put all the vigour of his being into the kiss, and she, too, embraced him so tightly it were as though they’d become one person. His lips, hot, forceful, pressed down, while hers, fragrantly tender, soft and smooth, pushed back. His feet and legs had lost all warmth.

Unconsciously, he bent forwards and brought his lips down yet firmer, burning with emotion. She, with eyes closed and face upturned, held her body close to his.

And then she opened her eyes, and gently pushed his face away with her hands. He stepped back, almost fainting.

She poured another glass of wine down her throat, drinking with great ferocity, licked her lips most fearsomely, then stood up and looked at Ma Wei.

‘Ha ha! Why, it’s you – little Ma Wei. I thought you were Washington. You’ll do, though, Ma Wei. Give me another kiss. Here.’ She put her head on one side, and proffered him her right cheek.

Ma Wei stepped back, dumbfounded. ‘Are you drunk, Mary?’ he asked, trembling.