Tash Aw - Five Star Billionaire

The woman laughed. “I know what you mean. It’s a great city, but life here is not easy.”

“I’m just joking, but I knew you would know what I meant. You’re not local either, are you?”

“No, I’m from Malaysia — although if you’re from Guangdong, you’re as much a foreigner in Shanghai as I am.”

“True,” Phoebe said. “Malaysia, huh? I knew your accent sounded familiar.”

“Familiar?”

“What I mean is, I’ve known many Malaysians in my previous workplaces. Well, to tell the truth, I once had a Malaysian boyfriend, not for long, though. It must be nice over there. I would like to go someday.”

The woman closed her file and scribbled on a notepad. “Can you speak English?”

“Of course,” Phoebe said. “ No problem . And I’m learning French too.”

“Ah, bon, tu parles français?”

“Actually I have not yet started, I’ve only just bought the book.”

The woman wrote something on the notepad and finished by drawing a double line firmly under what she had written. Phoebe tried to peer over to see what it was but could not quite make it out. “I like your attitude,” the woman said. “I like people who always try to improve themselves. Why don’t we start you as a receptionist; then, if you prove yourself capable, we can move you on to more duties, maybe administration or managerial roles given your background. But let’s see how you get on with answering the phone and dealing with clients — it doesn’t sound like much, but it’s very important.”

“Yes. Knowing how to deal with different people and situations is the key to all successful business,” Phoebe said, remembering a line from one of the books she had read.

“Hmm,” the woman said, smiling as she fastened the buckle on her briefcase. “You’re obviously a person who takes her work seriously. That’s good. When would you be able to start?”

“I can start anytime. I believe in responding swiftly and positively to all work demands.”

“Excellent, Miss … Xu.”

“My friends call me by my Western name, Phoebe.”

“That’s a nice name — we’re anticipating a number of foreign clients, so it’ll be easier for them to pronounce too. Hopefully you’ll build up relationships with them and encourage them to return.” They stood to leave the office. “One more thing, Phoebe: Can I take a few copies of your ID for our files please? Sorry to be troublesome, it’s just that I like everything to be in order. Besides, I can’t afford to risk breaching any regulations. We were going to hire a Filipina girl, very charming, excellent English and decent Mandarin, lived here for over three years so I assumed her position had been, well, normalized. Turned out she was illegal.”

“Oh, sure.” Phoebe shrugged, opening her wallet and producing the stolen ID card. She handed it over without even glancing at it, as if it were the most boring object in the world. “As you can see, I’m much more attractive in real life.”

The woman took the card from Phoebe before walking over to the photocopying machine in the corridor. She laughed and said, “Everyone is much more attractive in real life.” She took a while to figure out which buttons to press, and finally, while the copies were being printed out, she looked up at a calendar pinned to the wall in front of her. It had a photo of a snowy valley, the hills covered in frosted pine trees. “In fact, everything is better in real life. Reality is beautiful; imagination is dangerous — it’ll let you down if you’re not careful.”

Phoebe did not answer. She looked at the sheets of paper sliding out of the photocopier into the tray. Xu Chunyan, twenty-two years of age, slim-jawed, dreamy, full of hope. The machine fell silent and the woman looked at the copy of the ID card. “Yes, you do look better in real life!”

They walked back out into the black-marbled reception area and paused in front of the exit. The music was still playing in the empty space — flowing water and birds in a bamboo forest — anticipating the many customers who would soon be walking through the doors. But for now they were the only two people there.

“Can you come on Saturday morning, please? My PA will be here to give you some basic training. I like my people to work to certain uniform standards throughout my companies. She’ll also sort out paperwork and finances. We haven’t got the accounts a hundred percent ready, so when you come we will give you your first month’s salary in cash. Is that okay? My PA will work everything out with you. Hey, we haven’t even discussed salary. But let me assure you, we will pay more than most of our competitors.”

“For me, financial remuneration is not as important as job satisfaction,” Phoebe said. She was amazed by how much of her books she had absorbed.

“Great. I have to rush now. I don’t know how often I will be able to come here, but I will get reports of your progress from my PA.” She reached into her pocket for her cardholder and handed Phoebe her name card as she left. Her name was written in Chinese on one side and English on the other. She did not have an elegant Western-sounding name like Landy or Wena or Apple or Bambi, just a transliteration of her Chinese name. LEONG YINGHUI. It was boring but inspired confidence, Phoebe thought. Knowing the woman’s name made her feel safe, though she could not explain why. It was an unremarkable name but it suited the woman so well; she wasn’t pretending or trying to be anyone else. Phoebe wanted to work for this woman; she would work hard and do her best. She felt a seed of unease remembering the face of the girl on the ID card, the face that was hers now, yet she found she was quickly able to suppress those anxieties with the sheer force of her mental strength. You must overturn all your old beliefs in order to succeed in life . All she had to do was to concentrate on the glorious future ahead of her and none of her lies would ever matter again.

“Phoebe Xu Chunyan, see you again. Good luck. I think you will be a success with us. I hope so.” She switched the lights and the music off, then held the door open for Phoebe before locking it behind her. A car pulled up alongside the pavement, a large silver Toyota. Leong Yinghui got into the car; she was already checking her BlackBerry and did not look up as the car pulled away, leaving Phoebe standing alone.

The rain had dampened everything, and the fallen leaves were a thick slippery carpet that made the ground beneath Phoebe’s feet feel uncertain, as if she were moving in a world of no fixed place. When she was working in Guangdong, drifting from one temporary job to another together with millions of other migrant workers, people used to call her kind of existence “a floating life.” For so long, that was how she lived, in a floating world in which everyone longed for something more stable, in which every minute of her day was spent waiting for real life to happen, a life that would make it possible to have a home and a family. She had spent so long in that situation that even now she found it hard to lose this feeling of transience, the sense that nothing would last. But she knew that she was leaving that floating world behind, finally, and that from now on her life would become firm and rooted in the concrete foundations of this city.

Her feet had become wet from walking in the rain and kicking through the leaves, and when she looked down she could see where the moisture had seeped through the toes of her shoes, staining them a dark red, almost black, like blood. That’s what happens when you buy cheap goods, Phoebe thought; fake leather looks great until you use it in demanding situations, and then it shows its true colors and lets you down. This was the last pair of fake-leather shoes she would ever buy in her life, she thought, because in three days’ time she would have the normal salary of a normal working person in Shanghai. She would be able to buy clothes from the big Japanese chain stores and eat in restaurants in the new shopping malls all over the city, where the floors were clean and there were no bad smells from the open drains.