Chenxi and the Foreigner Read Online Free

who had become too dependent on her. Now that her mother didn’t have a husband to lean on, Anna felt like she had been forced into the role of her emotional support and confidante. Let one of my sisters deal with her moods for a change, Anna thought. I’m here for a break. For an adventure!
    She smoothed open the first page of the small book.
    April 4th, 1989
    Here I am, finally, in Shanghai! I am looking out of my bedroom window from Dad’s apartment and the view is amazing. I can see right over Fuxing Park. It’s only 6 am but already the park is full of life—it’s like my own private entertainment! Below me there are waltzers and, to the right of them, a solitary old man hugs a tree. Behind him, another old man jiggles on the spot. Across a path lined with peonies, tai-chi is beginning. I watch the slow perfect fanning of limbs.
    I could sit at this window for hours, days, weeks; the park is like an ever-changing Bruegel painting with minute detail to be discovered. But unfortunately I don’t have months in Shanghai, only weeks, and even though I thought my time here with Dad would drag, I am not so sure now. I have only been here a day but I already have a date (sort of) with the most beautiful-looking man I have ever laid eyes upon! So, I have to get moving because he is picking me up in just over an hour.
    What to wear? I wish it wasn’t so hot because I’ve brought all the wrong clothes and I can’t imagine how I will find anything here to fit me. All the girls in Shanghai are so tiny. I feel like a great hulking sweaty blob! And they all seem to wear frilly girly dresses and high heels—very different from my shorts and jeans. I wonder if Chenxi likes girls in jeans?
    Anna’s father’s alarm rang through the thin plaster wall and she crept out of bed to use the shower before he did. Then she slipped on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, the lightest clothing she had brought with her, and joined her father in the kitchen.
    They breakfasted together. Muesli and milk, toast and jam. If you had F.E.C. you could shop at the foreign supermarkets and eat the same food as back home.
    Before he left for work, Mr White slipped a few more of the paper bank notes into Anna’s hand. They seemed to grow inside his wallet. Then he added some advice on how to get by in Shanghai. ‘Remember, xie xie is thank you, and don’t eat at the street stalls. The Hilton Hotel has a good hamburger restaurant if you need lunch.’
    â€˜It’s OK, Dad. I’ll be with Chenxi. He’s coming to pick me up for college today.’ She had decided it would be better not to mention yesterday’s desertion if she wanted her father to continue paying Chenxi to be her translator and guide.
    â€˜Yes, look darling, I know it sounds like a lovely idea to study a bit of Chinese painting, but don’t feel you have to go. I’ve got plenty of good videos here and you can catch a taxi into town to meet me for lunch, if you like. You are on holidays, remember? I’ll take you to the consulate on Friday night for drinks. You might meet some foreign students your age that you can make friends with.’
    â€˜Chenxi is my age, Dad. He’s only nineteen,’ Anna reminded her father.
    Mr White stood in front of the hallway mirror to adjust his tie, ignoring her response. ‘Hey, they’ve got a pool at the consulate! You could go for a swim today. That would be a nice idea, wouldn’t it? It’s very hot to be riding all the way out to the college.’
    Anna was irritated by her father’s protectiveness. And why did he have to assume that she would want to share his sheltered expatriate lifestyle? She wasn’t in China to meet Australians! ‘I’ll see how I go, Dad. It’s not that far. Chenxi took me past the college yesterday on the way to buy my art materials.’
    Her father still wasn’t listening. He’d had another thought.