Gong Xi Fa Cai!

Tonight we celebrated Chinese New Year with the Ho family. Amah spent the day with Mutti and Mrs Ho across in their apartment helping to prepare the feast. Mutti said it was the least she could do. Twice a week she goes with Mrs Ho and her theatre group to perform impromptu plays—huaju—in the streets in the International Settlement and Frenchtown. Papa and I went to watch her last week; we were sitting inside the window of a café with hot chocolates. Mutti didn’t have a speaking role—she played a bird with a broken wing in a pretend cage. I giggled so hard I snorted some of the hot chocolate. But when I looked across at Papa his face looked sad. Now I think of it, so did Mutti’s. But she was acting, I think.

Mutti still misses Benjamin and Daniel—we all do—but thanks to Dr Ho and Amah she is much better. I have asked Jian and Dr Ho to teach me about the acupuncture points for the lungs and how to prepare some healing decoctions to keep her strong. Lately Mutti is busier than she’s ever been, working at the hospital as a nurse alongside Papa, acting with Mrs Ho, and she’s also been helping other families get their documents in order to request releases from the work camps.

But back to the feast…When Papa and I arrived for dinner, I wished Li a Happy New Year.

She laughed, kissed me on both cheeks and presented me with a red envelope. Inside was a piece of sugar cane (for a sweet year) and the photo Jian took of Li and me in French Park three years ago, when we were just thirteen. We look far younger in our ponytails and pinafores. I promised I’d keep it forever.

We went into the drawing room, which had candles on the mantelpiece and the smell of cinnamon, cardamom and master stock. Pomelos and tangelos were piled up in pyramids. Dr Ho greeted us warmly and offered Papa the best chair. I barely said a word at all to Jian as Li kept squeezing my hands and tugging me away to point out the platters of dates, lotus seeds and peanuts laid out for good luck. I ate way too many candied lychees (for a sweet new year) and felt as if I was going to be sick before the dinner even started.

I feel like I’ve been gorging on luck since we left Vienna, and it sometimes leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

Li wore a golden cheongsam and treated us to a performance; Jian played the piano. I had to step outside onto the balcony for some fresh air while the table was being set and when he’d finished accompanying Li, Jian came out to join me. Li kept on singing for everyone, asking each person to choose their favourite song. I had the strangest feeling she was prolonging her solos on purpose as she nodded slightly at Jian as he left the piano.

Jian glanced over his shoulder to see that no-one was watching, then he pulled a small red envelope from his pocket and gave it to me. Inside was a thumb-sized piece of sugar cane, but underneath was the calligraphy symbol Fu.

‘It means good fortune for the year ahead,’ he explained, and to my mortification I started to sob.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, bewildered. He stepped towards me and brushed a tear from my eye with his thumb. His hands smelled spicy and woody. He’d obviously been making moxa with Dr Ho. Jian rested his hand on my cheek and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend our parents were not on the other side of the wall as my heart pounded.

But I must have been mistaken, because Jian removed his hand and stepped back inside without another word. I’d embarrassed him. I stayed on the balcony for another few minutes to make sure my cheeks were not red, and also because I didn’t want to see Jian.

He’d been so kind to me lately, teaching me how to make a Sang Ju Yin formula with mulberry leaf and liquorice. He’d even kept the illustration I made of the mulberry leaf and slipped me his recipe with amendments on a piece of parchment. It was silly for me to think that I’m anything more to him than his little sister’s friend. But I’m sixteen now and I wonder if he’s even noticed?

I keep thinking of those fine fingers, his hand against my cheek.

When I eventually went inside, everyone was preparing to sit down for dinner. Dr Ho sat beside Mutti, Papa beside Mrs Ho, and I sat between Li and Jian. There was a spare place at the table and Mrs Ho explained to us they always leave an empty chair if someone in the family cannot join them for the celebration. She reached across the table and squeezed both Mutti and Papa’s hands as she said it. Then it was Mutti’s turn to sob. I looked at Papa—he looks so old now—and he gave a tired smile of thanks. Then we dined on dumplings, platters of fish and shrimp, and a bowl of clams (the clams open up like a new year, new horizons).

It was a dinner filled with food and laughter. There were so many different dishes they couldn’t all fit on the table. It was very messy. I was so nervous and jittery I tipped soy sauce all over the red tablecloth when I poured it, but I think I got away with it. I just wish Nina could have been there too. Papa assured me Delma and Miss Schwartz had arranged for Nina to have a special dinner with them at Café Louis, with David Damrosch. (I saw Papa slip the money to Miss Schwartz when she visited last week.)

I miss Nina. I wonder what the New Year will bring for us all?

It’s been two months since the bombs on the Whangpoo and the Japanese have taken over Shanghai. The Americans are in the war against Japan, but there’s no sign of their troops in Shanghai. The French still hold Frenchtown, but everyone says that Japanese spies and troops are everywhere and that they pay no mind to the treaties. Even so, I hope this year is more settled, with no more bombs. Li and I must focus on our matriculation exams. I never imagined I’d be sitting exams and applying for medical school in French!

Mostly, I hope the Year of the Horse brings Daniel back to us.