City Of Shadows. M Lee J

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СКАЧАТЬ heard two sharp raps on the door of the courtyard. Who could be visiting them at this time of the night? She hadn’t heard anybody walk up the street.

      Her brother shouted something, but she couldn’t make it out. What had he said? She heard his feet running out to open the door. A few indistinct words were spoken, followed by the slow creak of hinges as the door opened.

      She would have to tell father that it needed oil.

      Another sound.

      She lifted her head from the pillow, straining to hear. There it was again. Fainter, this time, coming from the back of the house, where the kitchen was. A sharp tap, the crack of glass as it fell to the floor.

      She listened intently, straining her neck muscles to hold her head upright off the pillow.

      The window was opening, a scrape of something on the ledge. A soft bump on the tiled floor of the kitchen.

      Where was the maid? Why didn’t she ask who was there?

      More words in the courtyard. Her brother speaking. A man answering him. A stifled shout. Then, a sound she had never heard before like the gurgle of a frog, but cut off, strangled.

      Where was the maid?

      A startled cry from the hallway. It sounded like her mother shouting at her father during one of their arguments, but the voice was different. Too high. Too sharp. Too surprised. Then, the clatter of shoes running up the stairs. Shoes with sharp little heels. Not the soft felt slippers of the maid.

      Where was the maid?

      She turned her head towards the door. Something was going on downstairs. Something wasn’t right. She willed her body to move, straining it to sit up, urging it to get out of bed.

      But nothing happened. Her head collapsed back on the pillow.

      A loud bang. A heavy weight fell on the landing below her door.

      She expected to hear more shouts from her mother. The loud screech of her voice with the rounded trill of its Peking accent.

      But she heard nothing.

      Silence in the house.

      She focused on her bedroom door. The moon still streamed in through the crack in the curtains. A dog was barking in the house two doors away.

      She listened for more noises in the house, but all she could hear was her own breathing.

      Something was wrong. Where was the maid? Where was her father?

      A soft sound on the stairs. A creak as weight was placed on a step. The third step from the top. It always creaked when somebody stood on it.

      There was the creak again. Two people coming up the stairs.

      She could hear their footsteps now. Remorseless, one after another, coming closer to her door.

      Whispering.

      Two men’s whispers. She couldn’t hear what they were saying.

      The footsteps stopped outside her door.

      Whispers again. A language she’d never heard before. Words she didn’t understand.

      The round wooden handle of her door began to turn. She buried her head beneath the covers, pulling them over her.

      Please don’t come in here. Please don’t. I’ll be a good girl. I’ll say my prayers every night and be good to my mother. I promise. I promise.

      The door cracked as it opened. More whispers in the strange language. She stayed beneath the covers and closed her eyes. Perhaps, if she pretended to be asleep, they would go away.

      Please let them go away.

      Soft steps across her room towards the bed.

      Please let them go away. I’ll be good from now on, I promise.

      A hand pulled the covers off her. She opened her eyes and stared into a small mousey face with a sharply pointed chin. She knew that face. She had seen that face before. What was he doing here?

      On the next floor up, the slamming of a door. Heavy boots running up the uncarpeted stairs to the top floor. Her father’s footsteps.

      The man ran out of her room, closing it behind him. She lifted her head off the pillow. More footsteps running up the stairs. A door on the top floor slammed shut.

      A loud shout. Again, she didn’t understand what they were yelling. Something foreign, like the words her doctor spoke at the hospital. Harsh words, hurtful words.

      Someone was banging on a door upstairs, shouting once again in a loud voice. The sound of a door being kicked, once, twice, flying open, knocking against the wall.

      A shout from her father. She knew it was her father’s voice. Then a bang, muffled, less sharp than before.

      Heavy footsteps stomping across her ceiling. She followed them until they reached the window upstairs, right above her bed.

      Another bang.

      Something falling heavily, hitting the ceiling with a loud thud.

      She wanted to scream, to shout out for someone to save her. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She tried again, but all she heard was a gagging noise in her throat.

      Her body was rigid beneath the covers. Should she try to get away? She lifted her head above the sheets. Her wheelchair and crutches were still propped against the far wall. Why had the maid put them over there?

      Steps on the staircase, coming down, getting closer, getting louder.

      The handle of her door turned again.

      The door opened a crack, throwing a sharp shaft of light onto the wall, illuminating her crutches.

      Please don’t come back. You don’t belong here.

      The shadow of a man was thrown into the room. He was standing in the doorway. She could see no features on his face, just a darkness and the sharp outline of a pointed chin. But she knew it was him, the man she had seen before.

      She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. It was as if her voice was now as paralysed as her body.

      The shadow moved into the room.

      She closed her eyes tight.

      The footsteps on the carpet were getting closer to her bed.

      Keep your eyes closed. Pretend you’re asleep. Perhaps he will go away and leave you alone.

      She opened her eyes.

      The round end of a piece of metal was staring straight at her. Wisps of blue smoke escaped from it, sinuous strands rising into the air. The smell was sweet and heavy, like the morning after Chinese New Year when the stench of the firecrackers hung over Shanghai.

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