––––––––
Pitt went back outside with the men, leaving Daisy to clean up after the meal she had not made. Another warm afternoon, there was a subdued atmosphere about the workers. Muldoon and Blain, usually the loudest, had been almost silent. Mrs Cromwell, sitting by the fire reading the newspaper, had begun to wonder if maybe one of them had helped Ju get out. Maybe they were all in it together.
Jenkins and Pitt hung back, while the others strode off towards the vines.
‘Has Ju gone then?’ asked Jenkins.
‘Yes,’ said Pitt. ‘But I still need the passport for her. I’ll get the photo.’
‘Where is she?’
Pitt did not answer. Expression blank. Jenkins nodded and looked away.
‘Sorry,’ he said.
‘I’ll see you later,’ said Pitt.
Jenkins took the hint, turned and walked away. He did not look back immediately, and, when he did, Pitt was gone. He assumed that he had returned to the kitchen.
*
Pitt opened the door to the cellar, wondering if Ju would have turned on any more lights, but knowing that she would have changed nothing. She would be sitting on the small wooden seat, quite possibly clutching her bag. Waiting in fear perhaps; at the very least, having no understanding of what was going to happen.
The cellar was illuminated by the same dim light in the corner. He had positioned Ju so that she could not be seen from the door. He walked to the far end of the cellar and round the last row of barrels. Ju was sitting in the chair, her legs together, her jacket over the back of her chair, with the book her grandmother had given her in her lap.
Her head was down, but she was not reading; her eyes diverted a few yards in front of her, waiting for Pitt. Hoping that it would be Pitt. Wondering what he was going to bring her, or do to her, or want her to do.
Pitt stood with uncertainty in front of her. Breathed in silently. He caught the slightest aroma of her, the same scent that he recognised from standing a foot away at the kitchen worktop, their fingers almost touching.
He took the camera from his pocket and held it out in front of her. She looked up curiously, and then a quick glance up into his eyes. He gestured with the camera, indicating that he needed to take a picture.
Yuan Ju nodded, slightly troubled. As much expression as he had ever seen on her face, which in turn troubled him. He turned the camera on, tried to remember the simple instructions that had been given to him in the shop.
Ju bent to her side and placed the book on the floor, then straightened up in her seat. She sat with her shoulders back, her head up, but her eyes dropped, staring at an indistinct point in front of her.
Pitt, feeling horribly uncomfortable, knelt down in front of her, fiddling with the zoom, trying to focus on Ju’s face. Under the scrutiny of the camera, Ju sloped her shoulder a little and slipped her dress down her arm. Then, hooking her finger under her bra strap, she moved that off her shoulder. She looked at the camera, her dress slipping down to the right, revealing the top of her breast.
Pitt hesitated for a moment, his hands lowered and he looked Ju in the eye. Felt himself shutting down. An instant, a slamming of the door. A curse travelled through his head, never reaching his lips. Everything he was feeling, the nervousness and discomfort, momentarily struck down.
This was what she expected of him. She didn’t think she was here to be saved. She thought he wanted her for himself. That was all. Locked away in a basement to get undressed.
He could have talked to her then, but he had no words. He didn’t want to talk to her. He didn’t want to have to explain himself. Depression swept in and scooped him up in its grey hand.
Ju’s own discomfort was obvious. She could tell he was unhappy, but didn’t know whether to cover her shoulder or pull her top down further.
There was only one of them who could bring the indignity to an end. Pitt raised the camera again, quickly took three pictures of her face – suddenly, he had no doubts about which button to press or whether or not he was getting it right – then stood up. This was an awkward, horrible moment, and he had to end it, that was all. Words weren’t going to solve anything, and certainly not coming from him.
Ju did not look at him. Hands clasped, eyes low. Pitt walked to the door. Stopped with his fingers on the handle. He wondered again if he should go back and speak to her, but it was not the time. For the moment the trust had been unaccountably punctured between them and it would take time before it could be repaired. Neither of them had done anything wrong, but the strange chemistry had been dampened.
Pitt walked out of the cellar, closed and locked the door behind him. It was some time before Ju picked up the book that had been given to her by her grandmother.