As he lay on his back with his eyes on the ceiling, Akitada added another dereliction of duty to the list. Telltale black water stains had appeared on the wooden boards. The roof they lived under was probably close to falling down on top of them.
With a sigh, he got up again and unlocked the iron-bound chest that stood against one wall. As expected, only three gold bars and a little silver remained: hardly enough to begin large building projects. But he could at least see what needed to be done. He changed into his old robe and began an inspection tour.
Some time later, he had found enough urgent repairs to require double the money he had. Over the main hall, where guests were entertained and the family and friends gathered for celebrations, the cedar-bark shingles needed replacing. In summer the rains would finish the damage, and in winter the snow would melt and make its devious way into the house. Damaged railings, loose boards, and broken shutters were everywhere. In one gallery, the rain had come through and rotted out the flooring.
Akitada put off visiting Tamako’s room until last, and then he knocked to make sure it was empty. It was. His wife had taken her maid on her visit to Akiko. He wondered what they were talking about – no doubt how difficult Akitada had become to live with.
He found more water damage. And when he raised the woven reed blinds to let more light in, the entire contraption fell with a loud crash and a cloud of dust. He muttered to himself. This sort of thing was dangerous. On closer inspection, the blind was not worth remounting; the reed strands were so dry and brittle, they had disintegrated when they fell. He wondered how Tamako had managed to use it.
Angry at himself and his family for not keeping an eye on things until it was too late, he kicked the blind aside and strode out on to the veranda to inspect the outside of the pavilion. The boards sagged alarmingly. Such repairs should have been done by Tora and Genba. He growled and looked up at the eaves. At that moment, the board he stood on decided to give way, and he plunged downward, ending up in a splintered hole.
He cursed at length.
A swallow had built a nest on one of the eave brackets. Swallows’ nests were a good omen, but this nest was empty and long since abandoned by the bird family. He was still staring upward, bemused by this new symbol of the decline of his fortunes, when Tamako appeared in the doorway.
Her eyes widened when she saw her husband, oddly foreshortened by his fall. ‘Are you hurt?’ she cried.
Akitada’s injured arm hurt because he had used it to break his fall, and one of his ankles had been jarred. But mostly he felt ridiculous. He snapped, ‘No.’
Tamako raised a hand to her mouth and giggled.
He scowled and made an attempt to extricate himself.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quickly. ‘If I had known that you were coming to my room, I would have warned you.’
An implied criticism? He was hampered by having the use of only one arm, but managed to boost himself up enough so he could get a knee on the veranda. Tamako extended a hand to him. He looked at it doubtfully for a moment, then took it with his left hand and got both feet on the veranda. She smiled.
‘I was inspecting the house,’ he explained.
‘You looked very funny.’
He glowered. ‘No doubt. Why haven’t you brought the condition of your quarters to my attention?’
Her smile faded. ‘You’ve been working very hard lately. I mentioned the veranda to Genba, but he has his hands full with the horses and other daily chores.’
‘And Tora is never around any more,’ he added bitterly.
‘Are you sure you aren’t hurt? You’re holding your elbow.’
Akitada had been cradling his throbbing arm and now dropped it quickly. ‘It’s nothing. I had a run-in with some constables in Otsu.’
Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Constables? You?’
‘Yes. They took the boy from me. It seems the people who claim to be his parents accused me of stealing him for improper purposes.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Improper? But how… ‘I They claim to be his parents? You mean you could not prove your own rights?’
‘What rights? I don’t suppose I have any, except common humanity. The child was in a pitiful state each time I saw him. Oh, Tamako, if you had been there, it would have broken your heart.’
‘I don’t understand. This was not… you had no claim on him?’
‘Of course not. Except-’ He had almost said, ‘Except that I love him.’ He choked on the words and turned away. Stepping to the edge of the veranda, he looked into the garden. His eye fell on the brown stump that had been the wisteria vine, and he shuddered. Tamako’s silk gown rustled softly, and he felt her hand on his arm.
‘Akitada?’
Unintended tears rose to his eyes. He did not want her to see him like this: broken, hopeless, and useless to her and to himself.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘Don’t be sorry,’ he said harshly. ‘It was my fault. All of it.’ He glared at the dead vine. ‘Everything I touch dies. My own son died because of my neglect, and when I tried to help another child, I just made matters worse.’
‘You mustn’t say that. You mustn’t think it. None of it is your fault.’
He turned to her. ‘What?’ he asked bitterly. ‘Not even Yori’s death? Have you changed your mind about that?’ He saw her eyes filling with tears also. She started to speak, but so many bitter words had passed between them, followed by dreadful silences filled with unspoken recriminations, that he had a sudden horror they were about to begin the entire searing process again. ‘Tamako,’ he said, ‘I am so tired. I don’t want to quarrel again. Please don’t remind me of Yori. I don’t think I can bear it.’
She raised her hand to touch his cheek. ‘Oh, Akitada,’ she murmured, ‘please forgive me for what I said. And for what I thought.’
He put his hand over hers. The tears in her eyes brimmed over, and he took her in his arms. They stood, clinging together, under the empty swallow’s nest.
After a long moment, he said, ‘There’s nothing to forgive. This has been very hard for you, too.’
She clutched at him. ‘I said those terrible things because I wanted to hurt you. I thought you did not love us anymore.’
At the time he had in fact turned away from her and given his heart to another woman, a woman of whom he still sometimes thought with a desire that heated his body. He did not know any longer what he felt for Tamako. Struggling with his cursed honesty, he let pity overcome the urge to stop a scene that was rapidly disintegrating into something he was not ready for. He said nothing, but held her a little closer and stroked her hair.
After a moment, she disengaged herself with an embarrassed laugh and brushed the tears from her face. ‘Your arm? Has it been seen to?’
‘Yes. Seimei put some salve on it.’
‘Please come inside and tell me what happened in Otsu.’
They sat across from each other near the fallen blind, and he told her. He added, ‘Genba asked what happened, but I was too tired to deal with his questions or to discuss Tora’s absence, which seemed to trouble him more.’
‘Genba is worried about Tora?’
Akitada was a little hurt that she should be distracted so easily from his problem to Tora’s. Her lashes were still wet from tears and her nose was pink. For a moment, she reminded him of the boy. A ridiculous notion. He pulled himself together and said, ‘Tora seems to have left my employ.’
‘What?’ This time the shock in her voice and face was palpable. ‘Akitada, what happened? Something must be dreadfully wrong for Tora to leave you.’