The Unconsoled

by Kazuo Ishiguro

  The woman tugging my arm now moved round so that she was directly behind me and I was aware that she was saying something to me in her effort to tear me away. I ignored her and continued:

  ‘And it’s here, of all places, what a cruel irony! Yes, it’s here, to this place my parents have to come. Of all places, here, to receive your so-called hospitality. What an irony, what a cruelty, of all places, after all these years, that it should be somewhere like this, with people like you! And my poor parents, coming all this way, to hear me perform for the very first time! Do you suppose this makes my task any easier, that I’m obliged to leave them in the care of people like you, and you, and you?’

  ‘Mr Ryder, Mr Ryder …’ The woman at my elbow had been pulling insistently for some time and I now saw that this was none other than Miss Collins. This realisation made me lose my momentum and before I knew it she had succeeded in pulling me back from the group.

  ‘Ah, Miss Collins,’ I said to her, a little confused. ‘Good evening.’

  ‘You know, Mr Ryder,’ Miss Collins said, continuing to lead me away. ‘I’m genuinely surprised, I have to say it. I mean by the level of fascination there is. A friend told me just now that the whole town is gossiping about it. Gossiping, she assures me, in the kindest possible way! But I really can’t see what all the fuss is about. Just because I went today to the zoo! I really can’t understand it. I only agreed because they convinced me it was in everyone’s interests, you know, for Leo to do well tomorrow night. So I merely agreed to be there, that was all. And I suppose, to be truthful, I wished to say a few encouraging words to Leo, now that he’s gone this long without drinking. It seemed only fair I acknowledged it in some way. I assure you, Mr Ryder, if he’d gone this long without drinking at any other point in these last twenty years, I would have done exactly the same. It’s just that it hadn’t happened until now. There really wasn’t anything so significant about my presence at the zoo today’.

  She had ceased to pull at me, but had kept her arm in mine and we now settled to a slow walk through the crowd.

  ‘I’m sure there wasn’t, Miss Collins,’ I said. ‘And let me assure you, when I came over to you just now, I didn’t have the slightest intention of raising the subject of yourself and Mr Brodsky. Unlike the great majority of this town, I’m quite content not to pry into your private concerns.’

  ‘That’s very decent of you, Mr Ryder. But in any case, as I say, our meeting this afternoon didn’t amount to anything so significant. People would be so disappointed if they knew. All that happened was that Leo came up to me and said: “You’re looking very lovely today.” Just the sort of thing you’d expect Leo to say after twenty years of being drunk. And that was just about all there was to it. Of course I thanked him, and said that he was looking better than I’d seen him for some time. He looked down at his shoes then, something I don’t recall him ever doing when he was younger. He never did anything so timid in those days. Yes, his fire’s burnt out, I could see that. But something’s replaced it, something with some gravity. Well, there he was, looking down at his shoes, and Mr von Winterstein and the other gentlemen were all hovering about a little way behind, looking the other way, pretending they’d forgotten about us. I made some remark to Leo about the weather and he looked up and said, yes, the trees were looking splendid. Then he began to tell me which animals he’d liked of the ones he’d just seen. It was clear he hadn’t been attending at all, because he said: “I love all these animals. The elephant, the crocodile, the chimpanzee.” Well, the monkeys’ cages were nearby and certainly they would have come that way, but they certainly wouldn’t have passed the elephants or crocodiles and I said as much to Leo. But Leo brushed this aside as though I’d brought up something completely irrelevant. Then he seemed to get into a slight panic. Perhaps it had to do with Mr von Winterstein coming a little closer just then. You see, my original agreement had been that I’d say a few words to Leo, just literally a few words. Mr von Winterstein had assured me he’d intervene after a minute or so. Well, those had been my conditions but then, once we’d started to talk, it did feel hopelessly short. I myself began to dread the sight of Mr von Winterstein hovering nearby. Anyway, Leo knew we had very little time because then he plunged right in. He said: “Perhaps we might try again. To live together. It’s not too late.” You must accept, Mr Ryder, this was somewhat blunt after all these years, even allowing for this afternoon’s time restrictions. I simply said: “But what would we do together? We’ve hardly a thing in common now.” And for a second or two, he looked about bewildered, as though I’d brought up a point he’d never before thought of. Then he pointed to the cage in front of us and said: “We could keep an animal. We could love and care for it together. Perhaps that was what we didn’t have before.” And I didn’t know what to say so we were just standing there, and I could see Mr von Winterstein starting to come over, but then he must have sensed something, something in the way Leo and I were standing there, because he changed his mind and moved away again and started talking to Mr von Braun. Then Leo put up a finger in the air, that’s a gesture of his from long ago, he put up his finger and said: “I had a dog, as you know, but he died yesterday. A dog’s no good. We’ll choose an animal that will live a long time. Twenty, twenty-five years. That way, so long as we look after it well, we’ll die first, we won’t have to mourn it. We never had children so let’s do this.” To which I said: “You simply haven’t thought this through. Our beloved animal may well outlive us both, but it’s unlikely the two of us will die at the same time. You may not have to mourn the animal, but if, say, I died before you, you’d have to mourn me.” To which he said quickly: “That’s better than having no one mourn you after you’ve gone.” “But I have no fear of such a thing,” I said to him. I pointed out that I’d helped many people in this town over the years and that when I died I wouldn’t be at all short of mourners. To which he said: “You never know. Things might go well for me from here. I too might have many mourners when I die. Perhaps hundreds.” Then he said: “But what would that matter, if none of them really cared for me? I’d swap them all. For someone whom I’d loved and who’d loved me.” I must admit, Mr Ryder, this conversation was making me a little sad and I was unable to think of anything else to say to him. Then Leo said: “If we’d had children back then, how old would they be? They would be beautiful by now.” As though they take years to become beautiful! Then he said again: “We never had children. So let’s do this instead.” When he said this again, well, I suppose I became confused and I glanced past his shoulder at Mr von Winterstein, and immediately Mr von Winterstein came towards us making some jokey remark, and that was it. That was the end of our conversation.’

  We were continuing to walk slowly around the room, her arm still in mine. I spent a moment digesting what she had told me. Then I said:

  ‘I was just recalling, Miss Collins. The last time we met, you were kind enough to invite me to your apartment to discuss my problems. Ironically there seems now much more to discuss about the decisions you must make in life. I do wonder what you’ll decide to do. If I may say so, you stand at something of a crossroad.’

  Miss Collins laughed. ‘Oh dear, Mr Ryder, I’m much too old to be standing at any crossroad. And it’s really much too late for Leo to be talking like this. If this had all happened even just seven or eight years ago …’ She gave a sigh and for a fleeting moment a profound sadness crossed her face. Then she was once more wearing her gentle smile. ‘This is hardly the time to be starting out with a whole new set of hopes and fears and dreams. Yes, yes, you’ll hasten to tell me I’m not so elderly, that my life is far from over, I do appreciate it. But the fact is, it is all very late in the day and it would be … well, let us say it would be messy to complicate things now. Ah, the Mazursky! It never fails to captivate me!’ She gestured towards a red clay cat mounted on a stand we were just passing. ‘No, Leo has created quite sufficient mess in my life already. I’ve long since built up a different life for myself and
if you ask people in this town, most of them I hope will tell you I’ve acquitted myself rather well. That I’ve been of much service to many of them over a time of increasing hardship here. Of course, I’ve not been able to achieve anything on your sort of scale, Mr Ryder. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a certain sense of satisfaction when I look back and see what I’ve been able to do. Yes, by and large, I feel quite satisfied with the life I’ve made for myself since Leo, and I’m quite content to let it stand at that.’

  ‘But surely, Miss Collins, you should at least consider very carefully the present situation. I can’t understand why you wouldn’t see it as a fine reward, after all your good work, to be able to share the evening of your life with the man who – excuse me – with the man whom at some level one assumes you still love. I say this because, well, why else have you continued to live here in this city all these years? Why else have you never considered another marriage?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve considered other marriages, Mr Ryder. At least three men over the years I might easily have settled for. But they … they weren’t right. Perhaps there is something in what you say. Leo was nearby and that made it impossible for me to feel sufficiently towards these others. Well, in any case, I’m talking of long ago. Your question, and perhaps an understandable one, is why shouldn’t I now end my days with Leo? Well, let us consider for a moment. Leo is sober and calm now. Will he remain like that for long? Perhaps. There’s a chance, I’ll allow that. Particularly if he now wins recognition here, becomes a figure of renown again with large responsibilities. But if I agree to return to him, well, that’ll be a different matter. He will decide after a little time to destroy everything he’s built, just as he did before. And where would that leave everyone? Where would that leave this city? In fact, Mr Ryder, I rather think I have a public duty not to accept these proposals of his.’

  ‘Forgive me, Miss Collins, but I can’t help feeling you’re really not as convinced by your own arguments as you would like to be. That somewhere deep down you’ve always been waiting and waiting for your old life, your life with Mr Brodsky, to resume. That all your good work, for which I don’t doubt the people of this town will always be grateful, you nevertheless looked on it essentially as something to be getting on with while you waited.’

  Miss Collins leaned her head and considered my words with an amused smile.

  ‘Perhaps there’s something in what you say, Mr Ryder,’ she said eventually. ‘Perhaps I wasn’t so aware of the speed at which time went by. It was only recently, last year in fact, that it really struck me how time was getting on. That we were both of us getting old and that it was perhaps too late to think about retrieving what we had. Yes, you may be right. When I first left him, I didn’t see it as such a permanent thing. But was I waiting, as you claim? I really don’t know. I thought about things on a day by day basis. And now I find the time’s all gone. But when I look at it all now, my life, what I’ve done with it, it doesn’t seem so bad. I’d like to finish things this way, the way I have it now. Why must I get involved with Leo and his animal? It really will be much too messy’

  I was about to express again, in the gentlest sort of way, my scepticism as to whether she really believed all she was saying, when I became aware of Boris at my elbow.

  ‘We’ve got to go home soon,’ he said. ‘Mother’s getting upset.’

  I looked across to where he was pointing. Sophie was standing a few steps from where I had originally left her, quite isolated, not talking to anyone. A feeble smile hovered on her face, though there was no one to display it to. Her shoulders were hunched and her gaze seemed to be fixed on the footwear of the group of guests nearest her.

  The situation was clearly hopeless. Containing my fury at the whole room, I said to Boris: ‘Yes, you’re right. We’d better go. Bring your mother over. We’ll try and slip out without people noticing. We attended, so no one can complain.’

  I recalled from the previous evening that the house adjoined the hotel. As Boris disappeared into the crowd, I turned to look at the doors lining the wall, trying to recall which of them it had been that had led Stephan Hoffman and myself through to the hotel corridor. But just then Miss Collins, who was still holding my arm, started to talk again, saying:

  ‘If I had to be honest, perfectly honest, then I’d have to admit it. Yes, in my less rational moments, it’s been my dream.’

  ‘Oh, what’s that, Miss Collins?’

  ‘Well, everything. Everything that’s happening now. That Leo would pull himself together, that he’d find some position in this town worthy of him. That it would all be fine again, that the terrible years would be behind us for ever. Yes, I have to admit it, Mr Ryder. It’s one thing, in the daylight hours, to be wise and reasoned. But during the nights, that’s a different matter. Often enough over these years, I’ve woken up in the darkness, in the small hours, and I’ve lain awake thinking about it, thinking about just something like this happening. Now it’s starting to happen for real, it’s rather confusing. But then you see, it’s not really starting. Oh, Leo might well be capable of achieving something here, he did once have a lot of talent, it can’t all have faded away. And it’s true, he never got a chance, a proper chance before, where we were. But for the two of us, it’s too late. Whatever he says, it’s surely too late.’

  ‘Miss Collins, I’d very much like to discuss this whole matter with you at greater length. But unfortunately, just now, I’m afraid I have to be going.’

  Indeed, as I said this, I could see Sophie and Boris coming across the room towards me. Disentangling myself from Miss Collins, I considered again the choice of doors, stepping back a little to take in those hidden round the curve. When I studied them in turn, each door looked vaguely familiar, but I found I did not feel confident about any of them. It occurred to me to ask someone’s advice, but I decided against this for fear of attracting attention to our early departure.

  I led Sophie and Boris towards the doors, still in a quandary. For some reason, there had come into my head the numerous scenes from movies in which a character, wishing to make an impressive exit from a room, flings open the wrong door and walks into a cupboard. Although for exactly the opposite reason – I wished us to leave so inconspicuously that when it was discussed afterwards no one would be quite sure at which point we had done so – it was equally crucial I avoided such a calamity.

  In the end I settled for the door most central in the row simply because it was the most imposing. There were pearl inlays within its deep panels and stone columns flanking each side. And at this moment, in front of each column, there stood a uniformed waiter as rigid as any sentry. A doorway of this status, I reasoned, while it might not necessarily take us directly through to the hotel, was certain to lead somewhere of significance from where we could work out our route, away from the public gaze.

  Motioning Sophie and Boris to follow, I drifted towards the door and, giving one of the uniformed men a curt nod, as though to say: ‘There’s no need to stir, I know what I’m doing,’ pulled it open. Whereupon, to my horror, the very thing I had most feared occurred: I had opened a broom cupboard and, at that, one which had been filled beyond its capacity. Several household mops came tumbling out and fell with a clatter onto the marble floor, scattering a dark fluffy substance in all directions. Glancing into the cupboard, I saw an untidy heap of buckets, oily rags and aerosol cans.

  ‘Excuse me,’ I muttered to the uniformed man nearest me as he hastened to gather up the mops and, with glances now turning accusingly our way, I hurried in the direction of the neighbouring door.

  Determined not to make the same mistake twice, I set about opening this second door with caution. I proceeded very slowly, and even though I could sense many eyes on my back, even though I could hear a rise in the hubbub and a voice saying close by: ‘My God, that’s Mr Ryder, isn’t it?’ I resisted the temptation to panic, inching the door toward me a little at a time, all the while peering into the crack to ensure there was nothing about to f
all out. When to my relief I saw the door led into a corridor, I stepped quickly through and gestured urgently to Sophie and Boris.

  20

  I closed the door behind them and we all three looked about us. With some triumph I saw that I had, at the second attempt, chosen exactly the right door and we were now standing in the long dark corridor that led past the hotel drawing room and into the lobby. At first we remained motionless, a little stunned by the hush after the noise of the gallery. Then Boris yawned and said: ‘That was a really boring party.’

  ‘Atrocious,’ I said, feeling furious again at every one of the people at the reception. ‘What a pathetic lot. No idea at all about civilised behaviour.’ Then I added: ‘Mother was by far the most beautiful woman there. Wasn’t she, Boris?’