22
Chu must have had a very good memory. When I paid my second visit to his shop, he recognised me immediately.
“You. Jim’s friend. What do you want?”
His directness took me aback. I didn’t want to tell him what I was after right away. I hoped to win him over first, if I could, then put my request to him, as one friend to another.
Behind him there were rows of herbal medicines stacked neatly on shelves.
“Er, I’m looking for Chinese medicine,” I lied.
He seemed unconvinced.
“What kind of medicine?”
My mind worked hard to think of an illness Chu could purport to cure.
“A pick-me-up if you’ve got one, a sort of tonic or universal panacea. I’m feeling a bit run down.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“You don’t look run down.”
I leant against the counter as if my legs were struggling to suppo
