Chapter 2

Music blasts from the tiny iPod; we dance around the kitchen like silly mutts. Leandra always listens to music while working, and I kind of grew up to the sound of her Brazilian artists. There's a few I particularly like; she used to drive me to school with the car stereo blasting eighties' tunes, and I became familiar with those old bands and a few more modern ones.

Leandra and my mother worked together, cleaning houses and businesses around town. Mum didn't have a driver's license, but Lee does, so they scraped and saved to buy a van and she used to drive me around, when I was younger. When Lee came into our lives, I must have been twelve, thirteen, she'd just arrived from Brazil, full of dreams and hopes, only to find them crushed after a few months. She was going through a rough patch; we were going through a lot at the time, too. Grandfather had just passed away, leaving behind a world of debt and a dying takeaway business, Grandmother had been diagnosed with dementia. Mum was really going desperate, at the time, and when Leandra walked into the takeaway shop begging for a job, I swear it was the universe working to ease my mother's life just a tiny bit. Because it was going to get so much worse in the years to come.

At least she had some joy, for a while. At least she left believing I was taken care of; she had absolute faith in Allen. Knowing I'd married him was such a comfort, in those days before she passed away. Allen was such a comfort, in those terrible months before she passed away. He and Leandra, both. I steal a glance at her, dancing and cleaning at the same time, light brown cheeks blushed, green eyes sparkling. She's still as beautiful at thirty-six as she was when I first met her, though she's worked her arse off and gave birth to two kids. I don't think I've ever seen her in a bad mood, she's always so joyous and full of energy. Noticing my stare, she winks and grabs my hands, twirling me in one of her samba moves. I can't help laughing, but then my eyes fall on the kitchen clock. The sound of a car coming up the driveway catches my ears, and I know they're here.

JunJie, Sherry, and the uncle.

Come to see the house in person, so he can decide if the place suits him. From the way Sher talks of him, man must be an arrogant arsehole, much like JunJie's father. Must run in the family, I guess, JunJie also has a bit of an arrogant streak about him, one that tends to disappear whenever he's with Sherry. That boy worships the ground she walks upon.

"Jai, is that them? I better make myself scarce, then," Lee says, and rushes to put away the cleaning implements.

The way she knows this house so well tugs at my heart; she came in at least three mornings every week to clean for Allen. He wouldn't let me do any housework. Fuck, he wouldn't let me do much of anything other than fawn over him. I shake my head to drive away those memories, let Lee scoop me in her arms as she hugs me, place a kiss on the crown of her head - she's so small! She'd say I'm too tall, at six feet, but she's tiny. And at the same time, so big - her presence fills the entire house, and brings back my mother, who she loved as if her own. Tears sting the corner of my eyes, I don't want to think about this, I don't want to cry. I'm already far too emotional at the thought of having a stranger walk all through this house.

"Come on over, tonight," Leandra whispers. "Don't be alone. Kids would love to see you."

"Okay, I'll drop by. If you promise to feed me."

She smiles and nods. "No time to change, now." Her finger points up and down my body, and I follow it in consternation.

Not gonna pull a first good impression dressed like this, that's for sure. Trainers on my feet, jeans that are so ripped they leave my legs bare, a striped long sleeve tee that's seen better days. I was counting on at least having had the time to shower before they knocked, but it's not gonna happen. Lee rushes out the kitchen through the backyard, her van's parked on the side, near the garage. I run to the front door, bell ringing loudly. My heart suddenly decides to stampede, my gut aches; why am I this anxious? Why would I be nervous?

I take a couple of deep, steadying breaths, pull up my best smile, and open the door, greeting the newcomers. My eyes swipe across JunJie and Sherry, barely seeing them. They come to rest upon the slim, stream-lined figure of a man who's at least half a head shorter than me, but manages to look as large as life. Despite being thin to the point of emaciation. It's just his aura, bigger than life, I guess.

Lin DaoShi is fucking hot, all right, he's one gorgeous bloke.

His eyes are brown, and so is his hair, perfectly combed away from a face that's made of angles but carries a softness in it. It's the nose, I think, and the curve of those lips. I shouldn't linger my eyes on them, but damn, this man has a perfect pair of lips. I can feel my face redden, and my smile turns silly, which makes Sherry giggle - she knows me too well.

"Hi," I say, and now rush to hug Sherry and shake hands with JunJie.

"This is my uncle," he says, "Lin DaoShi. Shushu, this is Wang YanJai, who owns the house."

The man reaches his hand to me. I take it, noticing how soft his touch is. Slim-fingered, his hand is kind of small, fragile. A perfect dancer's hand, I think.

"Ni hao," he greets, and bows his head briefly. I'm forced to do the same, habit demands. My grandfather was very strict on this, though I later refrained from doing so, Allen hated it. "Pleasure to meet you."

Why does my stomach cramp at these words? His voice is soft and warm, contained. Like everything about him, this man seems so contained. I wonder what it's like once he explodes. And find myself nursing the want to see him out of this self-controlled shell, like he must have done when he danced his solo on that talent show, ages ago.

Sherry clears her throat, a message I can't fail to understand, and I open the door wider, stepping aside so they can enter.

"Please, come in."

They file into the hallway, Lin DaoShi taking everything in. His eyes sweep up and down the space, studying the light filtering from the windows, the slim console, the streamlined door to the cabinet where we usually hang coats. I let Sherry take over, and march behind the three of them, eyes lingering over Lin DaoShi's body. What a narrow waist he has, enhanced by the perfect fit of his white slacks. He's wearing all white, even his trainers are white, and the colour looks great on him. Not everyone can pull it off, I look like a ghost.

We climb up to the first floor, where the bedrooms are, his narrowed eyes flitting from wall to wall, always lingering over the windows. If there's one thing this house excels at is the light. So many windows, letting in whatever sunshine British weather allows. He seems to like it, it's one of my favourite things about this place, too. All this light. After he's perused every inch of the bedrooms and bathrooms on the first floor, we move back down, through the immense living-room, the formal dining to the left, opening on the kitchen and the backyard. I shouldn't call it backyard, though, it's a massive garden. Lin DaoShi opens the sliding doors and steps out, I can see he's interested. He'd fit right in, with the minimalistic furniture.

"Did you decorate this place yourself?" he suddenly asks, turning round to meet my eyes.

I can't help blushing, as I lower them. "No, Allen did, he had impeccable taste. And he'd already been living here for years, when we got married."

"So you didn't redecorate?"

I shrug. "There was no need, house's perfect as it is. Like I said, my husband had impeccable taste."

He walks over to the corridor off the kitchen, still eyeing me. There's a curious expression on his face, almost mockery, I'd say. My neck and cheeks blaze, and I don't understand why I'm so fucking bothered with whatever might be going through his head, or what he thinks of me. But I am, and his opinion doesn't seem all too good.

"What's down there?" he points to a door at the end of the hallway, I rush to join him.

"The office, come, I'll show you. There's a toilet to your right," I explain, opening a door to showcase a small room behind it.

Haven't been to the office in ages. I remember going there right after Allen's funeral; I remember spending a few sleepless nights there, curled on that uncomfortable leather sofa, frightened out of my head, drinking from his stash of whisky. The future looked so bleak, back then. I had no idea how to go on, how I was gonna live without him. Didn't think I'd survive his death, back then, turns out I did. But I've stayed away from this room, and don't fancy going in. It's where all the ghosts linger, where they hide during daytime, their wails barely perceptible to anyone but me. I can hear them cry, those ghosts. Allen's, my mother's, the ghost of who I was back then.

Opening the door, I usher them in. Everything looks the same as it was when Allen died. It's as he left it, except for his laptop, I've no idea what the fuck happened to that. One of his colleagues took it, I think. My eyes sweep the room, the glass surface of his massive desk, the black leather, high-backed chair, the metal bookcases behind it. I can almost picture him there, silver hair flopping over one eye, white teeth worrying his lower lip as he worked on his reports, gaze fleeting from time to time to the outside, light blue pupils that seemed to capture the grey skies on rainy days.

It's moments like these that I really do miss him. He's all I've ever known.

"I'm sorry, haven't yet got round to clearing up this room," I try to explain, feeling Lin DaoShi's eyes on me. "Allen's stuff is still here." Which is pretty obvious, I mean, just look at all the books on cardiology lying around.

"He was a doctor?"

"Cardiologist. I'll clear it up if you decide to rent, don't worry." Fuck, my voice trembles, there's this stupid knot in my throat I can't dislodge. Too many memories, their weight more than I can handle, right now.

"Where is your husband? Is he the owner of the house?"

Why did he have to ask? How come Sher and JunJie didn't tell him? I really don't want to have to explain, I don't want to talk of it, all I want is put it behind my back, run from the memories and the pain. Run from the fucking pain, and the bloody fear that never seems to leave me. I bite my lip and stare out the window, tears pricking the corner of my eyes.

"Dr Allen Sommers passed away seven months ago, skiing accident," Sherry says, her words like nails hammered into my chest.

"Eight," I whisper, and my stomach tightens. Can't keep my voice from shaking.

"Must have passed away young, huh? I mean, you're so young yourself. Had you been together for long?"

Why does he keep asking questions, can't he see it's beyond me to keep this up? What kind of morbid curiosity is this, that in order to rent a house this man needs to dig into the most intimate, horrible details of my life? I don't want to talk about Allen's death. I don't want to talk about Allen at all, because if I do, I'll just go on reminiscing about him - all those memories round and round inside my head until I can't come up for air and must break down and cry. I'm fucked if I'm gonna cry in front of Lin DaoShi, of all men.

"Dr Sommers was older than Jai," Sherry explains, "by at least thirty years. They'd been married for what, two years? When he passed away."

I can't even clarify, if I try to talk now I'll burst into tears. It was here he told me of my mother; it was here, in this room, that he draped a strong arm round my shoulder and said it was pointless, the cancer that killed her being already far too advanced. It was here I ran to, whenever it became too much, watching her waste away like that - and it was here he kissed me for the first time, it was on that sofa we made love for the first time; it was kneeling on that rug that he asked me to marry him. It was here I felt safest, and where I felt more desperate, as well. I don't want to be here, I can't be here.

"Sorry, I need some air," I mutter, and leave through the sliding doors, heart hammering and tears already streaming.

I cover my mouth with a hand that's suddenly gone cold, muffle the sobs that want to come out, and run to the right. Towards the conservatory he turned into a dance studio - the only place in this massive house I felt was mine, the only place I felt I could be myself.