Klara and the Sun

by Kazuo Ishiguro

  ‘You’re super-intelligent and I’m an idiot kid who hasn’t even been lifted. But okay. If you want, I’ll try and give you advice. Fire away.’

  ‘I wish to go across the fields to Mr McBain’s barn. I think Rick has been there at least once. Josie told me about it.’

  ‘You mean that barn over there? We did go there once when we were pretty young still. Before she got ill. I’ve been there other times since, just on my own. It’s nothing special. A place to sit in the shade if you happen to be taking a walk out there. How’s that going to help Josie?’

  ‘I shouldn’t confide just now, in case it’s necessarily a secret. I may even be taking things too far simply by going to Mr McBain’s barn. But I feel I must now try.’

  ‘You want to speak to Mr McBain? About Josie’s health? You’d be lucky to run into him out there. He lives five miles away on his main spread. Hardly ever comes around here these days.’

  ‘It wasn’t Mr McBain I wished to talk to. But please, I mustn’t confide or we’ll risk the special help Josie may yet receive. All I wish from Rick is some useful advice.’ I turned myself until we were both looking out of the wide window. ‘Please tell me. Is there an informal trail through the grass that will take me to the barn, like the one that brought me here to Rick’s house?’

  He rose to his feet and walked to the window. ‘There’s a path of sorts. It’s easier some days than others. As you said yourself, it’s informal. No one keeps it specially cleared or anything. Sometimes you go that way and everything’s overgrown. But if one path’s blocked or soaked, you can usually find another. There’s always some way through, even in the winter.’ He was suddenly looking me up and down, as if regarding me in earnest for the first time. ‘I don’t know much about AFs. So I don’t know how hard it’ll be for you. If you want, I could come with you. If it’s really going to help Josie, though we’re not even speaking just now, I’d be pleased to help.’

  ‘That’s very kind of Rick. But I think I’d better go alone. As I say, there’s a possibility…’

  ‘Oh God…’ Rick suddenly turned and moved towards the door.

  I’d already been aware of the footsteps moving within the building, but now they were out in the hallway. Then Miss Helen – though I didn’t yet know her name – came into the room. Her gaze moved all around her, but she appeared not to notice me. She had a light coat around her shoulders – the sort office workers wear outdoors – into which she hadn’t yet put her arms, and she clutched at it to stop it slipping as she strode to a wooden trunk under the window ledge.

  ‘Where could it be? How silly of me.’ She raised the trunk lid and began to go through its contents.

  ‘Mum, what are you looking for?’

  Rick sounded annoyed, as if his mother had broken a rule. He came and stood beside me, and we both watched Miss Helen bending over the box.

  ‘I know, I know,’ she said. ‘We have a visitor. I’ll attend in just one moment.’

  When she straightened to face us, she was holding a shoe, its companion dangling from it on a piece of tangled shoelace.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, now looking directly at me. ‘I have dreadful manners. Welcome.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘One never knows how to greet a guest like you. After all, are you a guest at all? Or do I treat you like a vacuum cleaner? I suppose I did as much just now. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Mum,’ Rick said quietly.

  ‘Don’t fuss, darling. Let me get to know our new visitor in my own way.’

  The shoe that had been dangling dropped into the trunk of its own weight. Miss Helen stared at it, the other shoe still in her hand. I saw Rick was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and I wanted to leave to give privacy, but Miss Helen then went on speaking to me.

  ‘I know who you are. Josie’s little companion. What a great success you’ve been! I’ve heard all about it from Chrissie. She comes here quite often, you know. Doesn’t she, Rick? Won’t you sit down?’

  ‘You’re very kind. But I feel I should be returning.’

  ‘Not on my account, I hope. I came down looking forward to a nice chat.’

  ‘Mum, Klara has responsibilities. And you’re probably still tired.’

  ‘I’m feeling fine, thank you, darling.’ Then to me, she said: ‘Apparently I wasn’t at my best last night. Now, Klara. I expect you’re curious about me. Chrissie says you’re curious about everything. If so, you must have noticed that I’m English. Are you equipped to identify accents? Or perhaps you can see deep into me, right through to my genetics.’

  ‘Mum, please.’

  ‘English people often came into the store,’ I said, smiling. ‘So all the AFs became familiar with your way of speaking. We thought it very pleasant and Manager, the lady who looked after us, always encouraged us to learn from it.’

  ‘The thought of all you robots receiving elocution lessons! How delightful!’

  ‘Mum…’

  ‘Speaking of lessons. Klara. Your name is Klara, isn’t it? Speaking of lessons, there’s an idea that’s been brewing here in this household.’

  ‘Mum. Definitely no. Klara isn’t interested in…’

  ‘Let me speak, darling. Here she is in person, so let’s seize our chance. I must say, darling, you’ve developed a tendency these days to rule the roost. It’s most irritating. Klara, are you willing to listen to our idea?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Rick began to walk away as if to leave the room in disgust. But he stopped at the doorway, so that from where I was standing, I could see just a part of his back and the rear of his elbows.

  ‘I’m not party to this,’ he called out, as though to someone in the hallway.

  Miss Helen smiled at me, then sat down on the sofa Rick had occupied earlier. She adjusted her light coat with one hand, her shoe still in the other.

  ‘Rick used to go to a school, you know. I mean a real, old-fashioned one. It was rather lawless, but he made some nice friends there. Didn’t you, dear?’

  ‘I’m not participating.’

  ‘Then why are you still hovering there like that? You do look odd, darling. Do either leave or stay.’

  Rick didn’t move, keeping his back to us, his shoulder now leaning on the doorframe.

  ‘Well, the long and short of it is that Rick left the school to take up home tutoring like all the smarter children. But then, well, as you may already know, things grew complicated.’

  Miss Helen became suddenly silent and stared past my shoulder. I thought she’d seen something through the wide window behind me, and was about to turn, when she said:

  ‘There’s nothing out there, Klara. I was just lost in thought. Recalling an incident. I get that way at times. Rick will tell you. I require someone to give me a little nudge when I get like that.’

  ‘Mum, for God’s sake…’

  ‘Where were we? Ah yes, so the plan was for Rick to be home-tutored by screen professors like all the other smart children. But of course, you probably know, it all became complicated. And here we are. Darling, would you like to tell the tale from here? No? Well, the long and short of it. Even though Rick was never lifted, there still remains one decent option for him. Atlas Brookings takes a small number of unlifted students. The only proper college that will still do so. They believe in the principle and thank heavens for that. Now there are only a few such places available each year, so naturally the competition is savage. But Rick is clever and if he applied himself, and perhaps received just a little expert guidance, the sort I can’t give him, he has a good chance. Oh yes you do, darling! Don’t shake your head! But the long and short of it is we can’t find screen tutors for him. They’re either members of TWE, which forbids its members to take unlifted students, or else they’re bandits demanding ridiculous fees which we of course are in no position to offer. But then we heard
you’d arrived next door, and I had a marvelous idea.’

  ‘Mum! I mean it. We’re not going any further with this!’ Rick came back into the room, striding towards his mother as if to pick her up and carry her off.

  ‘Very well, darling, if you feel so strongly, we shan’t continue.’

  Rick had now come right up to the sofa and was glaring down at Miss Helen. She adjusted her posture slightly so that she could go on looking at me past him.

  ‘Just now, Klara, when I appeared to be in a dream. It wasn’t any dream, you know. I was looking out there’ – she pointed the shoe behind me – ‘and I was recalling. Turn and look all you like, I assure you there’s nothing there just now. But once, some time ago, I was looking out there and I did see something.’

  ‘Mum,’ Rick said again, but now that Miss Helen had changed topic, his voice had lost urgency. He half turned to me, stepping back so he was no longer obstructing his mother’s view.

  ‘It was a nice day,’ Miss Helen was saying. ‘Around four in the afternoon. I called Rick and he came and he saw it too, didn’t you, dear? Though he claimed he was too late.’

  ‘It could have been anything,’ Rick said. ‘Anything at all.’

  ‘What I saw was Chrissie, Josie’s mother, that is. I saw her come out of the grass, just over there, holding someone by the arm. I’m explaining myself rather poorly. What I mean is, it was as if this other person had been trying to run away, and Chrissie had been after her. And she’d caught hold of her, but hadn’t been able quite to stop her. So they’d both of them tumbled out, so to speak. Just over there, out from the grass onto our land.’

  ‘Mum wasn’t perhaps in the best condition that day to see things accurately.’

  ‘I was able to see perfectly well. Rick doesn’t like this story, so he tries to insinuate all kinds of things.’

  ‘Do you mean,’ I asked, ‘that you saw Josie’s mother come out of the grass with a child? One other than Josie?’

  ‘Chrissie was trying to hold back this person and then she did manage to impose some control. Just out there. Chrissie had both arms around the girl. Rick got here in time to see that part. Then they both vanished back into the grass.’

  ‘It could have been anyone.’ Rick, now more relaxed, sat down beside his mother, and he too looked past me out of the window. ‘Okay, one was Josie’s mum. I’ll allow that. But the other one…’

  ‘The other one looked like Sal,’ Miss Helen said. ‘Josie’s sister. That’s why I called Rick. This being a good two years after Sal is supposed to have died.’

  Rick laughed, and putting his arm around her shoulders, squeezed his mother affectionately, tilting her light coat. ‘Mum has some weird theories. Like one about Sal still living in that house, hiding in some cupboard.’

  ‘I didn’t say that, Rick. I’ve never suggested such a thing seriously. Sal passed away, it was a great tragedy, and we shan’t play foolish games with her memory. What I’m saying is that the person I saw, trying to run away from Chrissie, looked like Sal. That was all I said.’

  ‘But this is such a strange story,’ I said.

  ‘I was just thinking, Klara,’ Rick said, ‘Josie might be wondering what’s happened to you.’

  ‘Ah, but our little friend can’t go yet,’ Miss Helen said. ‘I’ve just remembered what we were discussing. We were discussing Rick’s education.’

  ‘No, Mum, that’s enough!’

  ‘But darling, Klara’s here and I mean to talk to her about this. And what do we have here?’ Miss Helen had noticed Josie’s picture, which Rick had left on the sofa, face down on the envelope.

  ‘That’s enough!’ Before Miss Helen could reach it, Rick had snatched up the picture and risen quickly.

  ‘There you go again, darling. Trying to rule the roost. You must stop it.’

  With his back to Miss Helen to shield what he was doing, he put Josie’s picture back into the envelope with some care. Then he walked out of the room, this time not stopping at the threshold. We heard his firm strides in the hallway, the front door opening, then slamming shut.

  ‘A little air will do him good,’ Miss Helen said. ‘He gets cooped up. And now he’s even stopped going to visit Josie.’

  She was again looking past me out of the wide window, and this time when I turned, I saw Rick’s figure outside on the boards, leaning on the rail where the plank stairs descended from the platform. He was gazing out over the fields, the Sun’s pattern over him. The wind was disturbing his hair, but he remained quite still.

  Miss Helen rose from the sofa and came a few steps towards me until we were side by side before the window. She was taller than the Mother by two inches. However, when she was standing, she didn’t do so in the upright way the Mother did, but with a gentle curve forward, as if she, like the tall grass outside, was being pushed by the wind. She wasn’t at that moment partitioned at all, and in the window light, I could see the tiny white hairs around her chin.

  ‘I didn’t introduce myself properly,’ she said. ‘Please call me Helen. My manners have been awful.’

  ‘Not at all. You’ve been very kind. But I’m afraid my coming may have caused friction.’

  ‘Oh, but there’s always friction. Incidentally, before you ask. The answer is yes. I do miss England. In particular I miss the hedges. In England, the part of it I’m from anyway, you can see green all around you, and always divided by hedges. Hedges, hedges everywhere. So ordered. Now look out there. It just goes on and on. I suppose there are fences somewhere in the midst of it all, but who can tell?’

  She became quiet, so I said: ‘I believe there are indeed fences. It’s really three separate fields, fences dividing them.’

  ‘You can tear down a fence in a moment,’ she said. ‘Then put up another somewhere else. Change the entire configuration of the land in a day or two. A land of fences is so temporary. You can change things as easily as a stage set. I used to act, you know. Sometimes in decent theaters. Wretched theaters too. Fences, what are they? Stage design. That’s the nice thing about England. Hedges give a sense of history properly set down in the land. When I was acting, I never forgot my lines. My fellow actors did forget all the time. They weren’t much good on the whole. But I never forgot. Not a single line. I’ve often thought over the years to ask Chrissie about what I saw. She comes to visit from time to time and we always have a good chat. I’ve often thought about asking her, but then I stop myself. I think, no, better not to. What business is it of mine anyway?’

  ‘I believe Rick’s mother was just now wishing to discuss Rick’s education.’

  ‘Please call me Helen. Yes, that was it. As you see, Rick is reluctant even to raise the topic. About getting you to help, I mean. I suppose I should really ask Chrissie about it first. Or even Josie. I’ve no idea. It’s so unclear, the etiquette. If one was borrowing a vacuum cleaner…But it’s not like that, I know. You must forgive me. What dreadful manners. All Rick needs is a little guidance. I’ve bought the best textbooks for him. They’re from an era before children were lifted and they’re just right for him. But they all assume there’s some sort of tutor lurking around. He has a genuine ability, especially with physics, engineering, that sort of thing, but then he comes across something he doesn’t understand, there’s no one to explain, and that’s when he gets discouraged. I used to tell him to ask Josie, but of course he gets so cross about that.’

  ‘So Miss Helen wishes me to help Rick with his textbooks?’

  ‘Just an idea. Those textbooks would be child’s play for you. It’s just to get him through these exams. You see, he really does need to get into Atlas Brookings. It’s his only chance. I wasn’t suggesting anything more long-term. I suppose I really should ask Chrissie first.’

  ‘If Rick could go to the Atlas Brookings college that would be a good thing. In which case, yes, I’d very much like to assist Rick, so long as it
didn’t disturb at all my looking after Josie. Perhaps if Rick resumed his visits, he could sometimes bring his books with him.’

  I could see my response hadn’t satisfied Miss Helen. She went on looking at Rick out on the board platform – he hadn’t moved at all – then said:

  ‘I suppose if I’m honest, that’s not the true issue. Yes, some tutoring would help. But the real obstacle is that for the moment, the way things stand, Rick doesn’t wish to try. If only he’d give it his all, then I know he has such a chance. Especially, you see, since I have a secret weapon to help him. To give him a little extra push, this being Atlas Brookings. But he won’t try, not properly. He won’t try because of me.’

  ‘Because of you?’

  ‘He’s convinced himself he can’t go away and leave me here. Of course, I can manage perfectly well. But he likes to pretend I’m quite helpless, likely to get up to all sorts of mischief in his absence.’

  ‘Is the Atlas Brookings college far away?’

  ‘A day’s drive. But distance is beside the point. He’s convinced an hour is about as much as he can leave me on my own. Now how will he grow up and go out into the world if he can’t leave me for more than an hour at a time?’

  Outside, Rick began to step down the boards towards the grass. He did so slowly, as if daydreaming, and I could tell from the way he kept one arm stiffly to his chest that he was still holding Josie’s drawing. As his head and shoulders descended out of view, Miss Helen went on:

  ‘What I really wished to ask you, Klara. The real request, the deeper one. Would you ask Josie to try and persuade Rick? She’s the one person who might change his stance. He’s very stubborn, you see, and also – I suspect this – rather afraid. And who can blame him? He knows the world out there won’t be easy. But Josie’s the one capable of getting him to see this differently. Will you speak to her? I know you have a big influence on her. Would you do this for me? Mention it to her not just the once, but over and over, so she’ll exert a real pressure on him?’