In which Cho moves out and in…And Café Tombe de Cheval runs through morning procedures…
Disclaimers: read previous ones, please…
~!~
The next morning, bright and clear, found Cho wandering up and down Hornton Street with a giant blue-and-bronze suitcase, aimlessly looking for a place to rest. On her lunch break, she’d gone back to the flat she’d shared with Dennis, taken everything she owned, and left him agonizing over a possibly permanently damaged body part. She dreaded the idea of moving back home with her parents though. Fact, she could just hear them now; her mother shrieking in that high-pitched, shit-English and her father putting on a face as indiscernible as a rhino’s backside.
“Ai-yah! Cho-ah! You have not been eeeting! You doctor! You know bettah! Ai-yah, Hai-Zhi de Bah [child’s father] yah! You look at how thin your dauttah ees! What?! You and that Dennees boy are ovah! I told you he no good! You nevah leesen to me! Ai, I remembah when you was child! So good! You used to…” her mother would blather. And her father would simply look over the top of his newspaper and say gruffly,
“Hnph. Huei lai gan ma [why’d you come back]?”
Cho shook her head. She loved her parents. Really, she did. But she did not need to be told that her ass was still three inches off from her cousin’s wife’s sisters’, or that her mother was ever right about anything at all. Her brother’s apartment had slightly more possibilities, but then again, his multiple girlfriends might prove to be a problem. Ah, well if she had no choice, she could always sleep next to the dead bodies in the hospital. Shudder…you know, she could put up with the girlfriends…yah.
Pulling out her Samsung, she speed dialed her brother’s cell. The phone rang five times before he picked up.
“Yeah?” his voice was slightly winded, as if he’d been running a marathon just then.
“Hey, Ren! It’s me.”
“Cho?” Ren’s voice didn’t bother to conceal disappointment. “Hey. What do you want?”
Cho frowned into the phone.
“Don’t use that tone of voice with me,” she said grumpily. “Am I that much of a disappointment?”
“Of course you are. You’re my sister. You and Mom are the only two women on this earth that I can’t-”
“Ren. Shut up.”
“Fine. So what do you want? I’m expecting a call soon.”
“You always are. Listen; I need a place to stay for a bit.”
“You finally dumped that great poncing twat? Go you! And, no.”
“I don’t need you to remind me. Why not? I’m your sister! You lurve me!”
“Yes I do. But you will also cast quite the shadow on my personal life.”
“Sex life, you mean,” Cho grumbled.
“One and the same,” Ren replied, and Cho could swear he was grinning.
“Come on, Ren. Please? It’s just till I find someplace of my own. I swear that I’ll be good. I’ll hide in the closet when Mara comes. Or is it Lara?”
“Neither. It’s Tomasina. You can’t have no place to go!”
“I do! I mean, I don’t! Unless you want me to go stay with Mommy and Daddy.”
Collective shudder.
“Any friends?”
“Well, none of which I’m close with. Unless it’s my boss, and he’s married. I could stay in the hospital, I guess, but…”
“…But?”
“But one of our permanent patients is such a perverted wanker. He tries to feel me up every time I take his temperature, and the only empty bed is next to his…” Cho sighed into the phone dramatically. “Oh, well I suppose that’s better than nothing. It’s all right, Ren. I can put up with Mr. Randolph. I don’t think iron pokers are allowed in the hospital, but I suppose they might make an exception… Sorry to bother you, Ren.”
There was an icy silence.
“…Cho-Hsiang Anmarie Chang. You are not to be going anywhere within a ten meter radius of this ‘Mr. Randolph’, do you understand?”
“But the bed-”
“You are staying with me. No one touches my little sister unless they want a rawhide chew connecting their arse to their brain from the inside,” Ren growled. Cho grinned and made a “V” sign. Bingo.
~
Draco dipped a spoon into the ginger sauce. He swirled it around the pot before actually putting the spoon in his mouth. Wayne stood nervously behind him, fiddling with his apron. No matter how many times he’d made the sauce, he was always a bit frightened when it came time for Draco to judge it. Once when he’d forgotten to add one extra pinch of salt, the head chef had picked up the pot and sent it hurling through the window. There were still pieces of glass on the ground.
For a moment, Draco’s face was indiscernible, and everyone was prepared to duck in case unsalted sauce came winging their way, but then his face relaxed into something more bad tempered and Wayne knew the danger was over.
“Hopkins, this is despicable. Even worse than last Tuesdays’, but it will do. Okay then, I need you to start on the quiche.”
“Right sir,” Wayne said, and dove for the ingredients.
“Quirke, how’s the vichyssoise?” Draco yelled over the sound of a blender.
“Give me a minute! It’s going in the fridge in five!” she yelled back, before cutting off the power and pouring the pale potato soup into a large container.
Castor entered the kitchen and set down a giant crate on the counter.
“I’ve got your fish here,” he told Draco, straightening up and smoothing black wavy hair away from his eyes. Draco strode over and looked at the fish with shrewd eyes. Orla thought fleetingly that she wouldn’t be surprised to find the fish in cold sweat and shaking after having been examined by a Malfoy.
“Hnph. Good enough. Quirke, get here and clean out the fish, then get me when you’re done,” Draco ordered, stepping aside to let the woman through.
“We’re opening in ten. Are you ready?” Castor asked dryly. Draco rolled his eyes.
“When have we ever been?”
“Point taken.”
Su Li came into the kitchen then. “Wayne, have you written up the specials for today?” she asked impatiently. Draco handed her a medium black chalkboard with numerous entrees written in neon colors. Su looked them over appraisingly.
“Ooo, very nice, Wayne, as always. I’ll be putting this up now,” Su said, and left the kitchen. She went outside and positioned the board on an easel, then went back inside.
“I’m opening up!” she called.
“Go ahead!” chorused the kitchen. Smiling satisfactorily, Su reached over to the window, and turned over the sign to read “Open”.
~
“Ren, I’m going back to the hospital!” Cho called as she left the apartment.
“Wait a sec, Cho!” Ren’s head popped out from the kitchen and an arm emerged to toss a set of keys at his sister. “We haven’t seen each other in a bit, and I was planning on going out tonight anyways. You want to come have dinner with Sina and me?”
“No, I wouldn’t want to be the third wheel for you guys,” Cho began, but Ren interrupted her with a wave.
“Nah, you wouldn’t. Besides, Sina’s really keen on meeting you. And anyways, we’re going to a pretty nice place. Great French food. You’ll love it.”
“Hm. Tempting.”
“Good God. The Cho Chang having to second-think French food. I suppose pigs will take to the sky next,” Ren said in mock surprise.
“Well, you know I have to keep up pretenses of being thoughtful and meek. If you think you’re going to a French place without me, then you’re quite out of your mind.”
“That’s the girl I know and love. I’ll see you at five then.”
“’Bye Ren,” Cho said, grinning as she closed the door.
Torrey-Tail Hospital, where Cho worked, wasn’t that far from Ren’s apartment, so she opted to walk the distance. In fact, she returned earlier than usual. Dr. Morris looked up when she entered the doctor’s lounge.
“Oh, Cho. You’re back,” he said, mildly surprised.
“I didn’t eat anything this time. Was busy moving into my brother’s apartment,” Cho explained, hanging up her coat and purse and taking out her lab coat. Dr. Morris rolled his eyes.
“You must be the only one I know who can move residences in half an hour but eat in three. Usually it’s the other way around.” Dr. Morris folded up his paper and set it aside.
“Well, if you’re here, you might as well start early. Mr Randolph has been driving the nurses crazy. Old, crotchety, misogynist fart. He wouldn’t let any of them touch him unless they had latex gloves on.”
~!~
Wah. I based Cho’s mom partially off my grandaunt, except Mrs. Chang is a tad more ballistic. And for all I know, Cho might be Korean or Cantonese, but for the sake of this fic, she’s Chinese and her family speaks Mandarin.
Ren’s name comes from the name of this Japanese actor/singer’s Chinese name, and he’s my character.
I think that’s it for notes…feel free to leave a comment~