1985

I was in Cambridge as a result of some festival or another when I noticed there was an open air market in progress. Needing a new pair of gloves I decided to pay it a visit. I walked up to the stalls but I was halted by the sight of a deaf Catholic priest I once knew. I decided further not to attract his attention because I remember him scolding me when younger for not attending confessional when I should, nor as often.

I was about to leave the scene when through the stalls, boxes, scarves, clothes and poles I see...a Chinese girl. She is maybe twenty years old and has a strange lost look upon her face, found only in the expression of Orientals. She doesn't see me, mainly because she is in charge of a stall. So I turn the necessary corners and stand in front of her. She is selling cheaply pressed and painted plastic dolls. The prices are ridiculously low and reflect their quality, which is possibly why she caught my attention.

I remember seeing a Chinese girl before and thinking her plain and flat. This one is far from plain. I pretend to look through the dolls under the auspices of buying a present for a young relative, but I am sure she can gather my real intent. Other customers throng around us but they do not buy anything. They are contemptuous of her wares, so they move along to other stalls selling leather belts, plastic buttons, furry bears and cotton sheets. I remain jolted and jostled by their movement. She looks at me briefly and asks if she can help me. I explain that I have a young niece who is in hospital and who needs company. She gives me a doll and I give her three pounds. The doll is light and malleable in my hands. Her eyes move back to the till where there are precious few notes lying I would buy all her dolls, if I could. Eventually she suspects me of being an accomplice to a shoplifter and she shoos me away, but as I leave I know that we are inexcusably in love.