Free The Secret Mother by Victoria Delderfield Page B

She’s not always that cruel.”
    “It’s Fatty, isn’t it?”
    “I was at the train station.”
    “Hunan
mei,
I remember. I need to speak to Zhi. Do you know where she sleeps? I want her to find me another dorm.”
    “You shouldn’t rely on family any more,” Fatty said. “The managers don’t want us in our village gangs. They say it makes us lazy workers. We’re supposed to leave the countryside behind.”
    “But where can I find her?”
    Fatty shook her head. “Forget it. She has no authority round here. She won’t help you now. You can only rely on yourself.”
    Fatty disappeared into the swarm of girls teeming from their dorms; face after unknown face indistinguishable beneath work caps and matching overalls.
    Clang-a-lang-a-lang-a-lang-a-a-a-
    I followed the girl in front.
    “Blues go that way, idiot,” said a stranger pointing to a door marked ‘Sanitary Room’.
    The water was cold as I splashed my face. A girl, a blue like me, said there’d be hot water at ten that evening, when the stove got lit. I went to the toilet and climbed up on the seat to look out the window. The sanitary room backed onto the courtyard. In the distance, over the roof of the factory compound and the high risers beyond, there were pastel mountains. Suddenly, a blast of music, the company song. I sang half-heartedly and filed down to circuitry with the rest of the blue overalls. Waiting at the door, was Cousin Zhi.
    “Move it girls, or there’ll be two yuan coming off your pay packet,” she yelled.
    I copied another girl and held up my ID badge, wanting Zhi to hold me to her chest like a sister. But she checked my badge without even looking at my face. No glimmer of warmth. We were strangers.
    The girl behind pushed me forwards into the workroom. It was an eerie bottle green and smelt of bleach. Several conveyor belts were interlocked in a grid, with work stations on both sides.
    I hesitated, unsure where to sit. Then a girl shepherded me onto a stool in ‘Zone B’ and plonked down wearily opposite me.
    “Whatever I do, you copy, okay?” she said.
    Her accent was southern. Perhaps a Chaozhou
mei
? Just visible beneath her overalls was a pretty heart-shaped locket glinting in the gloom like a small relic from a different world. Her name was engraved in tiny characters,
Xiaofan.
I stared at the locket, wishing it was mine.
    The lights flashed above the line, Xiaofan straightened and snapped on a pair of gloves. I did the same and turned the lamp on above my work station to fathom the instructions that hung on my shelf. A klaxon echoed in the cool of the room and the belt began to flow, bringing small plastic boards in front of us. Stationed at the far end, Xiaofan and I were first to start work. I was scared to even touch the board. Xiaofan worked swiftly and handled the board’s minutiae of plastic buttons and wiring with great delicacy, as if plucking fish bones from a
tou yu.
    The board was inert in my hands.
    I daren’t ask her what to do; factory rules forbid talking on the line. I copied Xiaofan and inserted one of the plastic cards, the size of a fingernail, which were stored in a tray on my desk. A series of English words flashed up; fat and curly as worms.
    Zhi’s voice breathed down my neck. “You must follow the instructions precisely, 2204,” She pointed to step two on my diagram. “It’s a six-step process. Soon you won’t need to think, it will be familiar. For now, be sure to study the diagrams. You can follow rules, can’t you?”
    I nodded. Was she referring to me running from Li Quifang or what? The coldness behind her eyes told me otherwise; there was no past between us now, no New Year’s Eve, no escape from the farm or bold talk of better futures.
    “And remember, for every one you get wrong, we deduct two yuan.”
    We.
She counted herself a manager, but where was the real boss?
    No sooner had the thought entered my head, I noticed a staircase, leading to an upper office. Inside, a man