me Lang, as well. She told me later that she did it so that âwe donât lose China.â
âMy father died when I was eight years old. When my mother remarried, Meihui moved into a little house in the next street so that she could be near me. She helped my mother with the children, the shopping, anything, but then she slipped away to her own home. And in time I began to follow her.â
He gave her a warm smile. âSo you see, I had a Norah too.â
âAnd you depended on her, just as I did on mine.â
âYes, because she was the only one who could make me understand what was different about me. She taught me her language but, more than that, she showed me China.â
âShe actually brought you here?â
âOnly in my head, but if you could have seen the fireworks she set off in there.â He tapped his forehead. âShe used to take me out to visit Londonâs Chinatown, especially on Chinese New Year. I thought I was in heavenâall that colour, the glittering lights and the musicââ
âOh, yes, I remember,â Olivia broke in eagerly.
âYou saw it too?â
âOnly once. My mother visited some friends who lived near there, and they took us out a couple of nights to see what was happening. It was like you said, brilliant and thrilling, but nobody could explain it to me. There was a lot of red, and they were supposed to be fighting somebody, but I couldnât tell who or what.â
âSome people say theyâre fighting the Nian,â Lang supplied. âA mythical beast rather like a lion, who devours crops and children. So they put food out for him and let off firecrackers, because heâs afraid of loud noises and also of the colour red. So you got lots of red and fireworks and lions dancing. What more could a child want?â
âNothing,â Olivia said, remembering ecstatically. âOh, yes, it was gorgeous. So much better than the English New Year celebrations, which always seemed boringly sedate after that.â
âMe too. It was the one thing I refused ever to miss, and that drove my mother mad, because the date was always changingâlate January, mid-Februaryâalways lasting fifteen days. Mum complained that she couldnât plan for anything, except that Iâd be useless for fifteen days. I said, âDonât worry, Mum, Iâm always uselessâ.â He made a face. âShe didnât think that was at all funny.â
âYour grandmother sounds wonderful,â Olivia said sincerely.
âShe was. She told me how everyone is born in the year of an animalâa sheep, an ox, a rat, a dragon. I longed to find I was born in the year of the dragon.â
âAnd were you?â
He made a face. âNo, I was born in the year of the rabbit. Donât laugh! â
âIâm not laughing,â she said, hastily controlling her mirth. âIn this country, the rabbit is calm and gentle, hardworkingââ
âDull and plodding,â he supplied. âDreary, conventionalââ
âObservant, intelligentââ
âBoring.â
She chuckled. âYouâre not boring, I promise.â
It was true. He delighted her, not with any flashy display of personality, but because his thoughts seemed to reach out and take hers by the hand in a way that, she now realized, Andy had never done.
He gave her a rueful grin.
âThank you for those kind words, even if you had to scrape the bottom of the barrel to find them.â
âAccording to everything Iâve read, thereâs nothing wrong with being born in the year of the rabbit.â
âAnd youâve obviously read a lot, so I guess you know your own year.â He saw her sheepish look and exclaimed, âOh, no, please donât tell meâ!â
âIâm sorry, I really am.â
âThe year of the dragon?â
âIt not my fault,â she pleaded.
âYou
Yvette Hines, Monique Lamont