5

The following Saturday, to take advantage of the beautiful spring climate, Izabel invited everyone to a picnic in Coloane. Unfolding two deck-chairs, Nadia gestured to Papashka to sit down while Iain unloaded the car, carrying in his arms a wicker basket and numerous rugs. The wicker basket was bulging with chorizo sandwiches, potted shrimp, cheese, boiled eggs, melons, apples, fava nuts and pumpkin seeds. There was also cold beer, and lemonade for the boys who were already making sandcastles and collecting shells.

They found a sheltered spot by the beach, on a stretch of grass shaded by a tree. Opposite them, across the strip of dirt road, a hawker stall was setting up, selling fried noodles and peanut dumplings. The vendor was busy erecting his canopy and heating his coals. Next to him, his wife polished her tin utensils using the leaves from a nearby sand paper vine. Soon the pungent, zesty fragrance of cooking wafted across the road, making hungry lips smack and tummy’s grumble.

Izabel’s husband, Carlos, reclined against the tree and started to strum the Portuguese guitar. As he played, Anna twirled her hair in the breeze and eased into song. Her voice was pure and affecting. It bloomed like a saffron sunrise. Afterwards Izabel cut up some melon with a knife and passed it around.

‘‘What were you singing?’’ Iain asked.

‘‘A song called Bella Aurora.’’ She lowered her long lashes.

‘‘It was beautiful,’’ he said, looking a little red from the sun. ‘‘When I start singing all the birds and animals in Macao flee for the hills.’’

Nadia reached over with his hat. ‘‘Darling, put this on, otherwise you’ll burn.’’

‘‘I’m fine,’’ he said, sounding annoyed at being henpecked.

Nadia moved away and found Cristiano and Victor kicking a football in the sand. As she watched them bounce the ball along the beach, she pinned her hair up. Then she let it down. A minute later, she pinned it back up again. Vexed by the tone in Iain’s voice, she crossed her arms and glared out to sea.

After a while she was joined by Mamuchka.

‘‘Did I tell you that we received a letter from America? The Riedles wrote to say they have moved from Fresno, California. He’s still working as a physician. He managed to get his son and daughter-in-law out of Vladivostok. They’re all living as a family now in Seattle, Washington.’’

‘‘That’s nice.’’

Mamuchka breathed in the air as if it was wholesome and nourishing, puffing out her chest as she inhaled.

‘‘We also received a letter from our Chelyabinsk cousins. Boris, their son with the mental illness, has been taken from them and locked away in an institution. Apparently one of the local cadres didn’t like the way he looked at him. It seems that life in Russia is worse than ever. The political repression and persecution is continuing unabated. I don’t know what the bread situation is like there, but I put together a food package – some tins of corn beef and soup, that sort of thing – and sent it to them along with some money. Choodeasne! I just don’t know what more I can do.’’

Nadia shrugged. ‘‘You’ve done all you can for them, Mamuchka.’’

They watched as Victor kicked the ball. It skewed off his foot and landed in the water. Cristiano scrambled after it.

Nadia said, ‘‘I want to do an Easter fundraiser at the Tabacaria, donating one day’s proceeds from the shop to Izabel’s orphanage. Do you think Uncle Yugevny will agree to that?’’

‘‘I should think so.’’

‘‘Good. I will talk to him about it tomorrow.’’ Nadia bent down and dug her fingers into on of the crab holes in the sand.

‘‘Papashka looks well, don’t you think?’’ her mother said.

‘‘Yes, very.’’

‘‘I think the warm weather does wonders for him. His arthritis is much better. He’s not so stiff in the legs. Sometimes he doesn’t even need his stick. It’s the herbalist that’s cured him, you know, the man on Rua da Palha?’’

‘‘I remember,’’ said Nadia. ‘‘The same herbalist we visited last year,’’ – and a fat lot of bloody good he did me, she thought with a tinge of resentment. The shock of Dr. Goode’s prognosis had weighed on her for weeks. At first she had just wanted to hide somewhere and cry, to wrap herself in bed for hours. But her feelings soon turned to denial which lasted another week. She was currently entering the anger and despair phase of her seven stages of grief. Now, she was looking for someone to blame.

Mamuchka continued. ‘‘That medicinal tonic that he drinks every day has worked miracles.’’

‘‘What’s in it?’’

‘‘White peony root, sea bark, papaya, and Bawg knows what else. I’ve also been giving him hawthorn root which helps increase blood circulation, as well as some other catnip and huckleberry concoction for his eyes. Have you noticed that his cataracts have cleared a little?’’

‘‘I have, it’s quite something. You’ve really grown to believe in herbal medicine, haven’t you?’’

‘‘Vsykomu ovoshchu svoyo vreemya – every vegetable needs time to ripen’’ Mamuchka gave a little cough before saying, ‘‘He needs you, you know.’’

‘‘Who?’’

‘‘I’m talking about Papashka. He’s sure to start to deteriorate once you go away.’’ She sighed. ‘‘And I really don’t know what will become of the shop … or me for that matter. I spend so much of my time looking after your father. I think I’ve lost my identity. All I hear in my brain now is ‘fetch this, fetch that, bring this, bring that.’ ’’

They watched the surf roll in, felt it flow smoothly around their ankles.

Neither said anything for several minutes. At last Mamuchka spoke. ‘‘Nadrichka,’’ she said. You’re life is so settled here. Iain’s contented, you’re contented. Must you go away?’’

Nadia had been expecting this. She knew that her mother didn’t want her to leave. ‘‘I have to go where Iain goes.’’

‘‘I hear it’s not easy being a Russian in Hong Kong.’’

‘‘I’ve been a Macao citizen for years. And having married Iain I hold a British passport now.’’

‘‘That’s not the point. The English think we are beneath them.’’

‘‘The English think everybody’s beneath them.’’

‘‘I read that there are kidnappings there, and cholera, and, and, disease-spreading mosquitoes.’’

Nadia shook her head. ‘‘Mamuchka, you know none of that is true.’’

‘‘But why must you go?’’

‘‘Because I am married to Iain and it will make him happy.’’

‘‘What about you? Will it make you happy?’’

‘‘I’m all right, Mamuchka.’’ After a pause she added, ‘‘Besides, the aspirin takes the pain away.’’

 

After lunch and a short siesta, everybody, apart from Papashka and Uncle Yugevny, decided to go for a walk along the beach. The two old men, festooned in straw hats, continued to doze in their deck-chairs, smiling under hooded eyes.

Anna and Nadia wandered across the shingles. Stooping to wash her hands in the sea, Anna looked across and asked whether Nadia was going in for a swim.

‘‘Maybe in a minute,’’ Nadia replied. ‘‘I thought I’d try and work off that huge lunch.’’ They carried on walking. Nadia could sense that they were both trying to be civil to one another, but it was awkward. After a brief silence Nadia said, ‘‘So you’re a nurse?’’

‘‘Yes.’’

‘‘Do you enjoy it?’’

‘‘What, my job?’’ she sounded defensive.

‘‘Yes, do you enjoy being a nurse?’’

‘‘It’s all right.’’

‘‘I’m surprised you haven’t been snapped up by a doctor.’’

Nadia refrained from asking ask her why she had come to Macao. Whether it was it to escape from something – a shattered relationship, a broken heart? Had she been spurned by a man in Portugal? Was she a homewrecker, forced out of her town? She wanted desperately to ask her all of these questions, but she held her tongue.

‘‘I’m not interested in doctors,’’ Anna said, looking away, scowling, lost in thought. ‘‘Or in getting married for that matter,’’ she added. ‘‘I am happy the way I am, happy in my own skin.’’ They were at the end of the beach now. Apart from the hawker stand and a skinny stray dog, the place was deserted.

‘‘Well, maybe you’ll meet someone nice at the ball.’’ They exchanged economical smiles.

Turning, they retraced their steps. The sound of the gently breaking waves played in their ears. ‘‘I like your bathing costume,’’ said Anna, sweet as a lump of liquorice.

‘‘I’m glad you approve,’’ Nadia replied. It was a ‘Ladies Uplifter’, moulded to the body with shoulder straps that could be lowered for sun-tanning. She’d purchased it at Whiteley’s in London.

‘‘Considering the style is for a much younger woman, you carry it off rather well.’’

Nadia stopped cold in her tracks. Her mouth opened in protest, but Anna had already turned away, mumbling something unintelligible as she galloped off towards Victor and Cristiano.

For a short while Nadia didn’t know how to react. Did she mean to mock her? Was she being deliberately rude? Or was it merely a joke made in poor taste? Nadia shook her head in silence. Then a wave of hot temper enveloped her. ‘‘Bawzhemoy!’’ she hissed. ‘‘The bloody cheek!’’ She felt a cluster of hard fibrous knots form across her shoulders. Looking at Anna now, gallivanting in the sand with her young cousins, her face darkened. She wanted to thump her in the stomach with a pair of heavy steel-capped boots. ‘‘The bloody cheek!’’ She kicked the air with her right foot and marched out until she was knee-deep, then in one angry swoop, dived into the sea holding her nose.

She swam for twenty minutes without stopping. She swam until her arms ached and her heart shook in her chest, pushing her muscles to the limit, so as to drive away the angst.

The heavens clouded over. The noonday sun had given way in typical tropical fashion to a grey overcast afternoon. Thunderheads collected on the horizon making odd black patterns. Indifferent to the changing weather, Nadia swam on her back, listening to the ocean surge and rush below her, feeling the tide tugging at her arms and legs. She remained in the water, marinating in her own juices for almost an hour, trying to restore her own equilibrium.

Meanwhile, she watched Iain strolling along the sand, collecting shells; close behind him walked Anna, doing the same, following him like some beautiful, purple-bottomed monkey. Only minutes earlier, she’d witnessed her husband cradling Anna in the sea, his hands on her flat torso, across her abdomen, teaching her to swim. Her long legs had kicked and struggled like a baby gazelle’s.

The sky made a grumbling noise. A few moments later it began to lash down and Nadia climbed out of the sea. Carlos continued to play football with his sons, whilst Uncle Yugevny and her father huddled together under the tree, using their straw hats to keep out the rain. Across the way, she noticed Anna, Izabel and Iain squeezed together under the hawker’s awning, eyes glistening.

Nadia took a breath and counted to ten.

Iain had his arms round both women as the water poured down the sides of the canopy. Both women were giggling out loud and shivering slightly. When Nadia looked at Anna, she thought she saw her wink at her. The veins ticked along her neck. Something across her shoulders knotted again.

Nadia exhaled. Thank God, she said to herself quietly, cupping her hands over her eyes to keep out the rain: thank God we’re moving to Hong Kong.

 

Later, in bed, Nadia applied chamomile water and cucumber strips to Iain’s sunburned forehead. ‘‘I told you to put on a hat,’’ she said.

Iain closed his eyes and grunted. He was flat on his back, dressed in his underwear.

‘‘It may blister up if you’re not careful.’’

He slowly sat up, catching the cucumber fillets that slid off his face. ‘‘It’s not that bad.’’

‘‘You were showing off today, weren’t you?’’ As she spoke, the pain tightened across her stomach. Her period had come early. It had started that evening; another month of fruitless hope gone by. ‘‘Prancing around like a teenager, racing up and down the beach.’’

‘‘When?’’

‘‘I was watching you as you played football with the boys. You had your stomach sucked in all the time.’’

He shrugged, made a noise with his throat.

‘‘You’re thirty-nine years old, Iain. It’s all right to act your age sometimes. You’ve nothing to prove.’’

‘‘I’m not quite sure where this conversation is going,’’ he said.

‘‘She’s pretty, isn’t she?’’ Nadia said after a while.

‘‘Who?’’

‘‘Anna.’’

‘‘To be honest, I hadn’t noticed.’’

‘‘Hadn’t noticed?’’ Nadia drew forward, examining his face. ‘‘Now I know you’re lying.’’

‘‘I’m not lying.’’

‘‘In your line of work you’re paid to lie and keep secrets.’’

Iain shook his head with irritation. ‘‘But I’m not at work now, am I. I’m at home trying to enjoy my weekend.’’

‘‘You lied to me about Lazar all those years ago. How do I know you’re not doing the same here?’’

‘‘Well, I’m not!’’

Nadia looked over to her dresser for her pills. She hated this; hated feeling so vulnerable and insecure. ‘‘How can Anna have lived in Portugal all her life and not learned how to swim?’’

‘‘Maybe she’s not from the coast.’’

‘‘Barreiro’s hardly up in the mountains, is it?’’

‘‘How should I know?’’

Nadia experienced the cramps again. Her monthlies usually made her feel nauseous and tired, but now she felt as though she was being stabbed from within. ‘‘I’m surprised you haven’t asked her. You seem very interested in what she does, writing little notes and …’’

‘‘Writing little notes? What are you on about?’’

‘‘You scribbled something on the dinner menu last week.’’

He shook his head. ‘‘What menu?’’

‘‘You like her, don’t you?’’

‘‘Oh, for God’s sake!’’

Nadia got up and flipped open a jar of pills and swallowed an aspirin, washing it down with a glass of water. Her heart was pounding in her throat. The blood felt thick and fevered behind her eyes. She went over and pulled the shutters closed.

Locking his hands behind his head, Iain stared at the wall for a few seconds. Then he switched off the light and turned on his side to sleep with his back to her. Usually, he liked to snuggle up beside her, his knees tucked in behind her buttocks. But tonight he slept facing the other way.

Neither of them said goodnight.

After a long silence, Nadia lay down and checked the towel-pad between her legs; she was beginning to ooze. Her breasts were tender, her insides continued to burn. She smoothed a dollop of wild yam ointment to her tummy and tried to rub the pain away. Surrendering to the darkness, she listened to the wind; the shutters rattled and sighed. The rain was still coming down. A minute later she felt an overriding urge to start cleaning things; she decided to go and scrub the kitchen floor.