“Yes, I see your point. Now, Father, I’m sorry but I must go to bed.”
“We did our best, men like Endo and I, we did our best to nurture what was good in the country. A lot of good has been destroyed.”
“It’s most regrettable.” My husband got to his feet. “Excuse me, Father, but I must sleep. I have another busy day tomorrow.”
Ogata-San looked up at his son, a somewhat surprised expression on his face. “Why, of course. How inconsiderate of me to have kept you so late.” He gave a small bow.
“Not at all. I’m sorry we can’t talk longer, but I really ought to get some sleep now.”
“Why, of course.”
Jiro wished his father a good night’s sleep and left the room. For a few seconds, Ogata-San gazed at the door through which Jiro had disappeared as if he expected his son to return at any moment. Then he turned to me with a troubled look.
“I didn’t realize how late it was,” he said. “I didn’t mean to keep Jiro up.”
Chapter Five
“Gone? And had he left you no message at his hotel?”
Sachiko laughed. “You look so astonished, Etsuko,” she said. “No, he’d left nothing. He’d gone yesterday morning, that’s all they knew. To tell you the truth, I half expected this.”
I realized I was still holding the tray. I laid it down carefully then seated myself on a cushion opposite Sachiko. There was a pleasant breeze blowing through the apartment that morning.
“But how terrible for you,” I said. “And you were waiting with everything packed and ready.”
“This is nothing new to me, Etsuko. Back in Tokyo — that’s where I first met him, you see — back in Tokyo, it was just the same thing. Oh no, this is nothing new to me. I’ve learnt to expect such things.”
“And you say you’re going back into town tonight? On your own?”
“Don’t look so shocked, Etsuko. After Tokyo, Nagasaki seems a tame little town. If he’s still in Nagasaki, I’ll find him tonight. He may change his hotel, but he won’t have changed his habits.”
“But this is all so distressing. If you wish, I’d be glad to come and sit with Mariko until you get back.”
“Why, how kind of you. Mariko’s quite capable of being left on her own, but if you’re prepared to spend a couple of hours with her tonight, that would be most kind. But I’m sure this whole thing will sort itself out, Etsuko. You see, when you’ve come through some of the things I have, you learn not to let small set-backs like this worry you.”
“But what if he’s … I mean, what if he’s left Nagasaki altogether?”
“Oh, he hasn’t gone far, Etsuko. Besides, if he really meant to leave me, he would have left a note of some kind, wouldn’t he? You see, he hasn’t gone far. He knows I’ll come and find him.”
Sachiko looked at me and smiled. I found myself at a loss for any reply.
“Besides, Etsuko,” she went on, “he did come all the way down here. He came down all this way to Nagasaki to find me at my uncle’s house, all that way from Tokyo. Now why would he have done that if he didn’t mean everything he’s promised? You see, Etsuko, what he wants most is to take me to America. That’s what he wants. Nothing’s changed really, this is just a slight delay.” She gave a quick laugh. “Sometimes, you see, he’s like a little child.”
“But what do you think your friend means by going off like this? I don’t understand.”
“There’s nothing to understand, Etsuko, it hardly matters. What he really wants is to take me to America and lead a steady respectable life there. That’s what he really wants. Otherwise why would he have come all that way and found me at my uncle’s house? You see, Etsuko, this isn’t anything to be so worried about.”
“No, I’m sure it isn’t.”
Sachiko seemed about to speak again, but then appeared to stop herself. She stared down at the tea things on the tray. “Well then, Etsuko,” she said, with a smile, “let’s pour the tea.”
She watched in silence as I poured. Once when I glanced quickly towards her, she smiled as if to encourage me. I finished pouring the tea and for a moment or two we sat there quietly.
“Incidentally, Etsuko,” Sachiko said, “I take it you’ve spoken to Mrs Fujiwara and explained my position to her.”
“Yes. I saw her the day before yesterday.”
“I suppose she’d been wondering what had become of me.”
“I explained to her that you’d been called away to America. She was perfectly understanding about it.”
“You see, Etsuko,” said Sachiko, “I find myself in a difficult situation now.”
“Yes, I can appreciate that.”
“As regards finances, as well as everything else.”
“Yes, I see,” I said, with a small bow. “If you wish, I could certainly talk to Mrs Fujiwara. I’m sure under the circumstances she’d be happy to …”
“No, no, Etsuko” — Sachiko gave a laugh — “I’ve no desire to return to her little noodle shop. I fully expect to be leaving for America in the near future. It’s merely a case of things being delayed a little, that’s all. But in the meantime, you see, I’ll need a little money. And I was just remembering, Etsuko, how you once offered to assist me in that respect.”
She was looking at me with a kindly smile. I looked back at her for a few moments. Then I bowed and said:
“I have some savings of my own. Not a great deal, but I’d be glad to do what I can.”
Sachiko bowed gracefully, then lifted her teacup. “I won’t embarrass you”, she said, “by naming any particular sum. That, of course, is entirely up to you. I’ll gratefully accept whatever you feel is appropriate. Of course, the loan will be returned in due course, you can rest assured of that, Etsuko.”
“Naturally,” I said, quietly. “I had no doubts on that.”
Sachiko continued to regard me with her kindly smile. I excused myself and left the room.
In the bedroom, the sun was streaming in, revealing all the dust in the air. I knelt beside a set of small drawers at the foot of our cupboard. From the lowest drawer I removed various items — photograph albums, greeting cards, a folder of water-colours my mother had painted — laying them carefully on the floor beside me. At the bottom of the drawer was the black lacquer gift-box. Lifting the lid, I found the several letters I had preserved — unknown to my husband — together with two or three small photographs. From beneath these, I took out the envelope containing my money. I carefully put back everything as it had been and closed the drawer. Before leaving the room, I opened the wardrobe, chose a silk scarf of a suitably discreet pattern, and wrapped it around the envelope.
When I returned to the living room, Sachiko was refilling her teacup. She did not look up at me, and when I laid the folded scarf on the floor beside her, she carried on pouring the tea without glancing at it. She gave me a nod as I sat down, then began to sip from her cup. Only once, as she was lowering her teacup, did she cast a quick sideways glance at the bundle beside her cushion.
“There’s something you don’t seem to understand, Etsuko,” she said. “You see, I’m not ashamed or embarrassed about anything I’ve done. You can feel free to ask whatever you like.”
“Yes, of course.”
“For instance, Etsuko, why is it you never ask me anything about ‘my friend’, as you insist on calling him? There really isn’t anything to get embarrassed about. Why, Etsuko, you’re beginning to blush already.”