Sachiko put down her teacup and passed a hand through her hair. Then she smiled quickly. “As regards tonight, Etsuko,” she said, “my daughter is quite capable of amusing herself. So please don’t bother too much with her.”
Mrs Fujiwara’s face often grew weary when she talked about her son.
“He’s becoming an old man,” she was saying. “Soon he’ll have only the old maids to choose from.”
We were sitting in the forecourt of her noodle shop. Several tables were occupied by office-workers having their lunch.
“Poor Kazuo-San,” I said, with a laugh. “But I can understand how he feels. It was so sad about Miss Michiko. And they were engaged for a long time, weren’t they?”
“Three years. I never saw the point in these long engagements. Yes, Michiko was a nice girl. I’m sure she’d be the first to agree with me about Kazuo mourning her like this. She would have wanted him to continue with his life.”
“It must be difficult for him though. To have built up plans for so long only for things to end like that.”
“But that’s all in the past now,” said Mrs Fujiwara. “We’ve all had to put things behind us. You too, Etsuko, I remember you were very heartbroken once. But you managed to carry on.”
“Yes, but I was fortunate. Ogata-San was very kind to me in those days. I don’t know what would have become of me otherwise.”
“Yes, he was very kind to you. And of course, that’s how you met your husband. But you deserved to be fortunate.”
“I really don’t know where I’d be today if Ogata-San hadn’t taken me in. But I can understand how difficult it must be — for your son, I mean. Even me I still think about Nakamura-San sometimes. I can’t help it. Sometimes I wake up and forget. I think I’m still back here, here in Nakagawa …”
“Now, Etsuko, that’s no way to talk.” Mrs Fujiwara looked at me for some moments, then gave a sigh. “But it happens to me too. Like you say, in the mornings, just as you wake, it can catch you unawares. I often wake up thinking I’ll have to hurry and get breakfast ready for them all.”
We fell silent for a moment. Then Mrs Fujiwara laughed a little.
“You’re very bad, Etsuko,” she said. “See, you’ve got me talking like this now.”
“It’s very foolish of me,” I said. “In any case, Nakamura-San and I, there was never anything between us. I mean, nothing had been decided.”
Mrs Fujiwara went on looking at me, nodding to some private train of thought. Then across the forecourt a customer stood up, ready to leave.
I watched Mrs Fujiwara go over to him, a neat young man in shirt-sleeves. They bowed to each other and began chatting cheerfully. The man made some remark as he buttoned his briefcase and Mrs Fujiwara laughed heartily. They exchanged bows once more, then he disappeared into the afternoon rush. I was grateful for the opportunity to compose my emotions. When Mrs Fujiwara came back, I said:
“I’d better be leaving you soon. You’re very busy just now.”
“You just stay there and relax. You’ve only just sat down. I’ll get you some lunch.”
“No, that’s all right.”
“Now, Etsuko, if you don’t eat here, you won’t eat lunch for another hour. You know how important it is for you to eat regularly at this stage.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
Mrs Fujiwara looked at me closely for a moment. Then she said: “You’ve everything to look forward to now, Etsuko. What are you so unhappy about?”
“Unhappy? But I’m not unhappy in the least.”
She continued to look at me, and I laughed nervously.
“Once the child comes,” she said, “you’ll be delighted, believe me. And you’ll make a splendid mother, Etsuko.”
“I hope so.”
“Of course you will.”
“Yes.” I looked up and smiled.
Mrs Fujiwara nodded, then rose to her feet once more.
The inside of Sachiko’s cottage had grown increasingly dark — there was only one lantern in the room — and at first I thought Mariko was staring at a black mark on the wall. She reached out a finger and the shape moved a little. Only then did I realize it was a spider.
“Mariko, leave that alone. That’s not nice.”
She put both hands behind her back, but went on staring at the spider.
“We used to have a cat once,” she said. “Before we came here. She used to catch spiders.”
“I see. No, leave it alone, Mariko.”
“But it’s not poisonous.”
“No, but leave it alone, it’s dirty.”
“The cat we used to have, she could eat spiders. What would happen if I ate a spider?”
“I don’t know, Mariko.”
“Would I be sick?”
“I don’t know.” I went back to the sewing I had brought with me. Mariko continued to watch the spider. Eventually she said: “I know why you came here tonight.”
“I came because it’s not nice for little girls to be on their own.”
“It’s because of the woman. It’s because the woman might come again.”
“Why don’t you show me some more drawings? The ones you showed me just now were lovely.”
Mariko did not reply. She moved over to the window and looked out into the darkness.
“Your mother won’t be long now,” I said. “Why don’t you show me some more drawings.”
Mariko continued to look into the darkness. Eventually, she returned to the corner where she had been sitting before the spider had attracted her attention.
“How did you spend your day today, Mariko?” I asked. “Did you do any drawing?”
“I played with Atsu and Mee-Chan.”
“That’s nice. And where do they live? Are they from the apartments?”
“That’s Atsu” — she pointed to one of the small black kittens beside her — “and that’s Mee-Chan.”
I laughed. “Oh, I see. They’re lovely little kittens, aren’t they? But don’t you ever play with other children? The children from the apartments?”
“I play with Atsu and Mee-Chan.”
“But you should try and make friends with the other children. I’m sure they’re all very nice.”
“They stole Suji-Chan. He was my favourite kitten.”
“They stole him? Oh dear, I wonder why they did that.”
Mariko began stroking a kitten. “I’ve lost Suji-Chan now.”
“Perhaps he’ll turn up soon. I’m sure the children were just playing.”
“They killed him. I’ve lost Suji-Chan now.”
“Oh. I wonder why they did a thing like that.”
“I threw stones at them. Because they said things.”
“Well, you shouldn’t throw stones, Mariko.”
“They said things. About Mother. I threw stones at them and they took Suji-Chan and wouldn’t give him back.”
“Well, you’ve still got your other kittens.”
Mariko moved across the room towards the window again. She was just tall enough to lean her elbows on the ledge. For a few minutes she looked into the darkness, her face close to the pane.
“I want to go out now,” she said, suddenly.
“Go out? But it’s far too late, it’s dark outside. And your mother will be back any time now.”
“But I want to go out.”
“Stay here now, Mariko.”
She continued to look outside. I tried to see what was visible to her; from where I sat I could see only darkness.
“Perhaps you should be kinder to the other children. Then you could make friends with them.”
“I know why Mother asked you to come here.”
“You can’t expect to make friends if you throw stones.”
“It’s because of the woman. It’s because Mother knows about the woman.”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Mariko-San. Tell me more about your kittens. Will you draw more pictures of them when they get bigger?”