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CHAPTER 1

The sitting room of a flat on the second floor of a three-storey apartment building in Shanghai's former French Concession. The building was built in the 1920s. The ceilings are high. The walls are grey. The room is dark. The room is cluttered with dusty Chinese antiquities — rolled-up carpets, cabinets, screens, tables and lamps. Some objects are rare and precious, others are oddly common, tattered and cheap. Nothing is done to draw attention to the objects. All are displayed as if possessing equal rarity or beauty. It is difficult to understand the logic behind the collection. Is this a sophisticated collector or a compulsive collector who happens — from time to time — to stumble upon a real treasure?

Nothing in the flat works properly. Lamps must be turned on or off by screwing or unscrewing the light bulb. Some telephones work better than others — all are battered and old. And their plugs are in constant danger of disconnection. The heating comes on or turns off according to its own logic.

KATE is in her mid 70s, tall and strong. She was born in the USA. She speaks with a hybrid accent — modified by the foreign languages she speaks and the decades she has spent living outside the United States. To her left is a dog basket covered in a blanket. RUBY, her ancient Shih Tzu sleeps under the blanket. The only source of heat is an electrical unit high up on the wall to her left. When the heat comes on it blows warm air across the top of the room. Red ribbons are attached to the unit. They float out and flutter on the warm air. There is a large oval oeil-de-boeuf window behind KATE's right shoulder. Through the window we see a patch of sky, the edge of a roof and the white wall of the building across the alley. Oddly, it seems as if the sky, the roof and the building wall seen through the window are in colour while the interior of the flat is in black and white.

KATE sits on a large sofa centre stage facing the audience. She is wrapped in a blanket against the cold. A lamp arches over her shoulder illuminating a book she reads. She wears glasses and holds a magnifying glass. She wears gloves with the tips of the fingers cut off. Books litter the sofa and spil onto the floor.

(A buzzer sounds once — harsh and aggressive)

SILENCE

(The buzzer sounds again)

SILENCE

(The buzzer sounds. The note is held for five seconds. KATE looks up from her book, she reaches over and picks up the telephone)

KATE:

Wei? Ni-hao. Hello? (She hangs up the telephone. The buzzer sounds twice — two short bursts of noise. KATE rises from the sofa — throwing off the blanket as she goes. She goes to the oeil-de-boeuf window, unlatches it, swings it out and open, leans out and shouts) Hey! Up here! (She takes some keys from the windowsill and throws them into the alley) Catch ... It's the red one ... Got it?

SHORT PAUSE. (KATE shuts the window and returns to her place on the sofa)

(There is knocking on door stage right off. KATE in a light voice) Come in. (Knocking again. Annoyed, she bellows) It's open!

(DJ staggers into the flat, breathless)

Welcome.

(DJ nods)

You found us.

(DJ nods)

What's wrong with you? Out of breath?

(DJ nods his head 'yes')

You can't smoke here. If that's what it is ... If you're a smoker? ...

SHORT PAUSE

Catch your breath then.

SHORT PAUSE

Where's the key? (DJ holds up the key. She takes the key from him and hangs it on a hook in the window frame) Don't want to lose it. I'd spend time and money getting it replaced — and I have precious little of either ...

SHORT PAUSE

(DJ is looking at a painting on the wall. He puts on a pair of eyeglasses to examine the painting closely) I'm sorry, it's dark. It's also cold. And damp. I'd offer to take your coat but you'll want to keep it on. Welcome to winter in Shanghai. I'm accustomed to it. A lot like winter in Paris. Rain, damp, cold. You know Paris? (DJ is looking at a piece of furniture near the dog's bed) Mind the dog. (DJ turns and looks at KATE) Ruby. She's sleeping. She likes the blanket over her. Eleven years old now. Probably my last dog. (DJ looks over the bookshelves) My books are going to the Hoover Institute. Stanford University. California. I've read all of them ... Some twice.

SHORT PAUSE

Enough about me. Who are you?

DJ:

I met David Carlson in Beijing. He said I should meet you. He said you knew Shanghai better than anyone alive.

KATE:

Carlson? Oh, yes ... I got a fax ... You're a writer.

DJ:

Yes.

KATE:

A journalist?

DJ:

No. I'm not a journalist. I make my living writing non-fiction. Books on China. Hong Kong ... Asia.

KATE:

Travel books?

DJ:

I'll write anything they pay me to write.

KATE:

Freelance ... Don't envy you ... You make any money?

DJ:

Never enough. But it's good work.

SHORT PAUSE

KATE:

Do you like dogs?

DJ:

Yes. (He points at Ruby's bed) Is it friendly?

KATE:

She. Her. Yes, most of the time ... (She watches DJ approach the dog) 'Course, she doesn't like men ...

DJ:

Oh. (He reaches out cautiously and pets the blanket)

KATE:

She likes you ... Isn't that a kick?

SHORT PAUSE

I'm not a writer ... I don't pretend to be a writer. I came to it too late ... Like Chinese. I started learning the language when I was 49. A disaster ...

DJ:

You've produced some wonderful books. I have all of them. Except one.

KATE:

Which one?

DJ:

Frenchtown.

KATE:

You want Frenchtown?

DJ:

Please.

KATE:

It's 40 U.S. Three-fifty koi. (She digs into her pockets) I've got change ... But I'm not a writer. . Now, if you want to pay cash — U.S dollar cash — I'll do something on the price. How's 35?

DJ:

Great. (He digs into his pocket. He gives her the money. She retrieves the book from a box amongst a stack of boxes of books piled against the wall)

KATE:

Architecture is my thing. My passion. . Truth be told, I write captions — that's all. Captions to pictures. Most of the buildings in that book are now gone.

DJ:

Gone?

KATE:

Demolished. For the almighty dol ar. Or the raging renminbi ... Shanghai is the culture of commerce. That's its politics. The only place that seems safe from the wrecker's bal is the Bund. The riverfront. The old bank buildings. The hongs ... They say they want to preserve it. That's what they say. 'Course, for the right price they'll say whatever you want — and sell you whatever you want. It's all capitalist rubbish to them. They've got 5,000 years of history — what do they care for a piffling century of colonial architecture? ... They've got a point, you know. Why should they care? (The phone rings once. KATE picks it up) Wei? (She listens. A BRIEF PAUSE and then she hangs up. She stares at the phone and then picks up the receiver again. She listens. She hangs it up again) Nothing. Not even a wrong number — just nothing. Silence ...

SILENCE

Coffee?

DJ:

Yes ... Thank you.

KATE:

It'll be instant. ... I don't cook ...

DJ:

Fine with me ...

KATE:

Black?

DJ:

Please.

(KATE exits. The heater comes on in the room. DJ looks up at the fluttering red ribbons. We hear KATE speaking Chinese to CAT off stage. KATE re-enters)

KATE:

Heat.

DJ:

Yes.

KATE:

At least that's what the landlord calls it.

SHORT PAUSE

How long are you staying?

DJ:

I don't know.

KATE:

What, a week, a month, years?

DJ:

A couple of months ... I've got some time.

KATE:

Your first time in Shanghai?

DJ:

No.

KATE:

Where are you staying?

DJ:

It's a hotel. It's also part of a sports stadium. It's difficult to explain.

KATE:

The new Shanghai ... I know a couple of lovely little guest houses. Resting places for the cadres. If you're interested? Not too pricey ... I'm tight. Very tight with my money. I'd never send you somewhere pricey, or grand. But clean. Clean and reasonable.

DJ:

What about a flat? Is it possible?

KATE:

Yes. It's possible.

DJ:

(DJ points at the floor in front of a chair) Do you mind?

KATE:

Mind what?

DJ:

I have a bad back. Could I lie on the floor a minute? It helps ...

KATE:

Sure ... It's filthy. But go ahead ...

DJ:

I broke it in India. (He lies down on the floor in front of the chair. He kicks off his shoes and rests his feet on the seat of the chair) My back and my foot.

KATE:

Both? At the same time?

DJ:

Yes.

KATE:

I won't ask how.

DJ:

I was tired.

KATE:

Drunk? Is that what you mean?

DJ:

No. It was late. I was brushing my teeth. The floor was wet. I turned to reach for a towel and my feet went out from under me. My right foot hit the pipes under the sink. My fifth lumbar vertebra struck the toilet bowl. My head hit the tub ... I crawled back to my bed and tried to sleep. I thought I could sleep through it: I'd wake up and it would al be over. I'd be better. Restored.

(CAT enters carrying a cup of coffee. She stops and stands in the middle of the room. CAT is KATE's ayee or maid)

CAT:

Excuse me. Where will you drink your coffee?

KATE:

This is Cat. My ayee. She's here a few hours every day. Keeps things in order. Runs errands. Walks Ruby when I'm busy.

DJ:

Hello.

CAT:

Hello. Your coffee? Where shall I put it?

DJ:

It doesn't matter ... Thanks.

(PAUSE as CAT considers his response. She then kneels and places the cup and saucer of coffee on the floor at her feet. She rises then looks down at him)

CAT:

It's hot.

(CAT exits. DJ looks at the cup and saucer in the middle of the floor and then looks across at KATE)

KATE:

She doesn't get your meaning.

DJ:

What part of it?

KATE:

The 'it doesn't matter'. You confused her. Too much choice. She was waiting for instruction. You have to be precise. Literal, not literary.

DJ:

Her English is very good.

KATE:

Comes from Anhui Province. Don't know much about her. Seems honest. Has a young son about 10. Husband dead. Sometimes you don't want to know too much about them. Too many sad stories ... It's changed. It's better — getting better every day ... You're not here to write about the new China are you?

DJ:

No. (DJ rises, retrieves the cup and saucer of coffee. Sits in the chair and drinks the coffee)

KATE:

The Cultural Revolution?

DJ:

No.

KATE:

Sightseeing? Is that the plan?

DJ:

There is one thing I want to do. And I've been told you're about the only person who might just be able to help me. (He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his wallet. He opens his wallet and slides out a small black and white photograph. He holds it up to KATE. She puts on her glasses and crosses the room to take it from him. KATE squints at the photo) It's my mother's house. The first home she knew. (SHORT PAUSE) I started carrying the photograph in my wal et when my grandfather died. Five years ago. I thought some day I'll go and find that house ... He worked for Mackenzie & Company. He spoke Mandarin, Japanese and some Korean ...

KATE:

What year was she born?

DJ:

1926.

KATE:

Family name?

DJ:

Twilley.

KATE:

Address?

DJ:

Rue Amiral Courbet.

KATE:

All the street names have changed.

DJ:

I know.

(KATE exits. She is completely absorbed by the photograph. SILENCE. DJ stands, moves toward Ruby's bed. He kneels, makes a kissing sound as if to draw the dog out from under its covers. CAT enters. She watches him for a moment)

CAT:

Would you like some more coffee?

DJ:

No, thank you ... Where did you learn your English?

CAT:

American movies.

(KATE enters carrying a Shanghai telephone directory from 1930)

KATE:

Here it is. Rue Amiral Courbet. It's now Fumin Lu.

DJ:

They're in the book?

KATE:

(She hands him the telephone directory) Yup. Right here. I'm pretty sure it's still there. At least it was a couple of weeks ago.

DJ:

(Referring to directory) Where did you find this?

KATE:

Flea market. There are all kinds of them. Sprouting up like weeds. If you're lucky you can dig up a treasure ... I have ... I do ...

DJ:

How long have you been in Shanghai?

KATE:

I was posted to the U.S. Consulate in the early '8Os. Then they posted me to Paris. I hated Paris ... Then there was Tiananmen. No one wanted to be in China after June 4. Didn't bother me ... First chance I had I asked to be sent back. It was dead here. Dead ... I didn't care. I love China. I'll never leave. Ever ...

(CAT exits. KATE watches her exit)

SHORT PAUSE

Are you married?

DJ:

What?

KATE:

Are you married?

DJ:

No.

KATE:

Not married?

DJ:

No.

KATE:

Divorced?

DJ:

No.

KATE:

Not married. Not divorced.

DJ:

No.

KATE:

Middle-aged.

DJ:

I suppose. Yes.

KATE:

Single middle-aged male.

DJ:

Yes. It happens.

KATE:

Not often ... You're bright. Good looking ... Do you drink?

DJ:

I used to.

KATE:

(As if this explained everything) Ohhh ...

DJ:

I was never violent. Just drunk.

KATE:

None of my business what you are.

DJ:

It was a long time ago.

KATE:

Well, you're a catch. That's what I'm saying. A catch ... And every single girl in Shanghai will be out to snag you.

DJ:

I'll be careful ...

KATE:

Yes, you do that ...

(CAT enters. She moves to retrieve DJ's coffee cup and saucer)

Tiananmen scared the Chinese more than it scared anyone else. They want out before it happens again.

DJ:

(To CAT) Is that what you want?

CAT:

What?

DJ:

To get out?

LONG PAUSE. (CAT exits quickly)

What did I do?

KATE:

No matter what she feels about her life here she is still — and always will be — Chinese. Do not ask her to go against that.

DJ:

I wasn't suggesting treason.

KATE:

Sounded like treason to me ... Spiritual treason, but treason just the same.

DJ:

What's her story?

KATE:

She and her son share a room. Very bright but few prospects ... Not long ago you needed permission to travel. The laws are changing, or not being enforced, so you've got this great migration to the cities. Millions on the move for a better life ...

DJ:

How old is she?

KATE:

Twenty-eight. At least that's what she says.

DJ:

Did I insult her?

KATE:

No. Maybe. I don't know.

DJ:

But I might have?

KATE:

You might have.

DJ:

Should I apologize?

KATE:

If you apologize she'll know you insulted her ... If she wasn't sure before, she'll be sure now and then you'll never get out of it.

DJ:

What do I do?

KATE:

Wait.

DJ:

Wait?

KATE:

Yeah. For a while. Then forget about it. Drop it. This is China. If you don't learn fast to drop misapprehensions they'll overwhelm you. You'll get stuck in them. Drop it. Get on with it. Forget about it ... (SHORT PAUSE) I'll draw you a map.

DJ:

What?

KATE:

To your mother's house. It's not far. You just follow Hwei Hai Lu until it forks. Near Donghu Lu. I think. 'Course it's changed in 60 years. Won't look quite like your photo. (KATE sits at her desk and begins to draw out the map) It's just up from the Donghu Lu Guesthouse. Nice little compound — mostly out of town cadres — but your dollar's always welcome.

DJ:

One last thing.

KATE:

You're not going to ask to borrow money are you?

DJ:

Does that happen a lot?

KATE:

Oh, all the time. Students mostly. Lost little souls far away from home and Daddy's deep pockets.

DJ:

No. I'm not going to ask for money.

---

Excerpted from "Frenchtown"
by .
Copyright © 2012 Lawrence Jeffery.
Excerpted by permission of Exile Editions Ltd.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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