She could see he was trying to be charming. ‘Thank you, Nishi-san,’ she said.
‘You must be aware that I can’t stop looking at you.’
‘I wasn’t told that my invitation meant I was on show.’
He reached out a bloated hand and tried to place it on her waist. ‘I think you should remember who I am,’ he said.
She shook him away. ‘I think you should remember your manners.’
‘If only you were a little softer, you could be living in a beautiful ocean-front villa.’
Naoko laughed at the presumption. ‘Only if I’ve paid for it myself,’ she said.
Nishi heard Alex returning. He turned and looked at him with sour disapproval. ‘You can’t possibly prefer that gaijin to me?’ he asked.
‘I would prefer a slow death to you.’
His face began to fall in defeat but then he seemed to remember himself. ‘I’ll make you regret that. Kimura will receive a call from me in the morning.’
Naoko watched him slink unsteadily away. She was certain he wouldn’t remember any of this when he woke and, even if he did, there was no chance of him complaining. To tell anyone of her refusal would mean losing face, and she knew bullies like Nishi valued their status as winners above all else.
‘Who was that?’ Alex asked.
‘Just a prospective client,’ she said. ‘But he can’t afford to turn his dreams into reality.’
‘He looked pretty upset about it.’
‘Too bad for him,’ she said.
‘Shall we go down to the park to see the cherry blossom?’
Naoko shook her head. ‘I’ve seen it a thousand times before.’
‘You’re not enjoying yourself?’
‘I feel a little seasick, to be honest. I’m not much of a sailor.’
‘Do you want to get out of here?’ Alex asked.
In the distance, standing out against the darkness of the bay, the giant Ferris wheel at Yokohama turned like a delicate, filigreed web, illuminating the night sky. Beneath it was an amusement park with a roller coaster and a haunted mansion. She hadn’t visited since she was a girl. Naoko looked up at him and smiled conspiratorially. She felt intrigued. He seemed open and unguarded, not like the Japanese men she met, with their rules and constrictions. Their predictable betrayals. She thought of the English childhood of her imagination: governesses in oak-panelled drawing rooms and winter shooting parties. She could sense he was well bred but had somehow fallen on hard times, like an ocean liner abandoned at dock. There was a faint voice somewhere calling danger. Naoko couldn’t deny she heard it, even though it was barely louder than a whisper. Her conscience told her to listen, but her instincts smothered it with a sense of reckless adventure.
‘I want to go there,’ she said, and pointed out across the water. ‘I want to go to the fairground and ride the big wheel.’
‘I hate heights,’ Alex said. ‘I can’t even stand on a chair.’
Naoko smiled at his honesty. ‘I promise I’ll look after you.’
‘You want to tell Hiro that we’re going?’
The voice whispered to her once more. She struggled with herself for a moment, but the warning was futile. Her curiosity was too strong.
‘No. There’s no need,’ she said. ‘Let’s leave him guessing.’
6
THE SUN HAD softened the pavements underfoot and bleached the colour from the leaves. The city slowed to a crawl in the heat. There was a haze of pinkish smog colouring the cloudless sky and the faces of the people walking on the wide boulevard were covered by surgical masks against the pollution.
Alex saw her as she stepped from the escalator and into the ticket hall at Yurakucho station. Naoko stopped to check her make-up in a photo-booth mirror, turning one way then the other, and came out through the barrier with bright, weightless steps. She was wearing a white summer dress printed with purple anemones and soft leather sandals.
‘Did you wait long in this heat?’ Naoko asked.
‘When it’s you I’m waiting for I don’t really mind.’
The sun was low to the west and cast long evening shadows from the roofs of the tall buildings. The air looked cooler there so they crossed the street and walked in the shade. Bicycles passed by in an orderly procession, ringing their bells as buses roared near. Naoko was hurrying them both along.
‘It’s only seven thirty,’ Alex said. ‘We have an hour before the film starts.’
Naoko looked at him apologetically. ‘There’s been a change of plan. My friend has invited us to join her for dinner at a new restaurant. The place is supposed to be amazing.’
‘I’m confused. I thought you didn’t want me to meet your friends?’
‘It’s different with Megumi. She’s my assistant at the gallery, so she knows how to keep a secret. You’ll like her. She’s from a wealthy family. Very old money. Her father owns two office buildings in Nihonbashi. She’s bringing her boyfriend, so you’ll have to be on your best behaviour.’
‘Who’s her boyfriend?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve never met him. Megumi is still quite young so we don’t share everything, I suppose. I don’t know how she got a reservation on a Saturday night. I’ve heard it’s very exclusive.’
‘You could have warned me,’ Alex said, pointing at his chain-store suit and tie. ‘I came straight from work.’
‘Don’t worry. You look fine. Anyway, I think the restaurant has a dress code.’
They turned down a side street of tall wooden houses built along a narrow canal and over a low bridge surfaced with cobbles as smooth as marble. There was a small neighbourhood shrine tucked away, almost hidden from view behind high stone walls. It looked old and untended, overgrown with wreaths of twisted vines. Alex stopped to look, but Naoko walked on. She turned back as he called out for her to wait.
‘Let’s take a look inside,’ he said.
‘We’re late, Alex. I don’t even think it’s open. It’s practically falling down.’
‘Come on. It will only take a few minutes.’
She started to walk on, but stopped. ‘You really want to?’ she asked.
‘This is probably my only chance. I’ll never come here again.’
They crossed the street and walked up the steps to the gate at the front of the compound. It was hanging half open, forgotten among the elegant doorways of the surrounding houses. The shrine was a low wooden-framed building with long, carved eaves and a roof of ornately patterned copper. The roof shingles were green and weathered with age. An iron bell hung from the gables by a thick rope and tall cypress trees blocked out the noise of the city. Inside the compound there was only the sound of birds calling back and forth in the high canopy.
They walked to the front of the shrine and stood side by side at the rail.
‘You’re supposed to choose a blessing from the box,’ Naoko said. ‘Then you can tie it to the tree over there and wait for it to come true.’
She pointed to an old camphor tree, its branches hung with hundreds of pieces of paper that fluttered in the wind like crisp, white leaves.
‘They’re called omikuji,’ she said. ‘They bring good fortune, or money, or love. It’s sort of a superstition. Only old people believe in them now.’
The omikuji were stored in a tall ebony chest. They were filed by type, with a number painted on the front of each drawer in kanji characters. Naoko took a small metal can and shook it until a stick dropped out of a hole in the bottom. The stick had a number which corresponded to a drawer. Naoko opened the drawer and took out a rolled-up length of paper. She handed the can to Alex, and he did the same.
‘Which one did you get?’ she asked.
‘No idea,’ Alex said. ‘I can’t read it.’ He handed the strip of paper to Naoko.
‘It’s a blessing for travel,’ she said. ‘Maybe you’ll take a journey soon.’
‘What about you? What did you get?’
Naoko unrolled the paper and gave an excited laugh. She showed the scrol
l to Alex. ‘This is for success in business. How lucky is that?’
‘I thought this was all superstition?’
Naoko read the fortune again. ‘Not if you get the one you want.’
At the camphor tree they folded the papers lengthways and looked for a space to tie them. Naoko pointed to a branch that was bare, and Alex reached up and tied them on with a folded knot. Naoko clapped her hands and clasped them before her face for good luck.
They went back inside the shrine building. A wooden chest stood beyond the rail with an open top and a heap of old fiveyen coins lying inside, each with a hole at its centre.
‘What’s the money for?’ Alex asked.
‘Now you have to pay for your blessing,’ Naoko said. ‘Like everything else in life, it doesn’t come free.’
‘Why a five-yen coin?’
‘It’s the luckiest one.’
Alex took the change from his pocket and threw in all the five-yen coins he had. ‘I don’t mind paying extra. I need all the luck I can get,’ he said.
‘We make our own luck in life, surely?’
‘I wish it was that simple. Sometimes everything goes wrong despite your best intentions.’
Naoko turned to him. ‘I want you to tell me, Alex. Tell me what went wrong in London. I want to hear you say it.’
‘Whatever it is you’re looking for, you won’t find it by trying to probe me.’
‘Why do you have to be so evasive? Why won’t you talk to me?’
‘I am talking to you. Some things are best forgotten, that’s all. Tell me you don’t have anything in your past that you’d prefer to forget.’
Naoko breathed out heavily. ‘That’s not fair. We’re talking about you. At least, we’re trying to but you’re always hiding.’
‘Isn’t that why we chose each other, Naoko? You’re able to hide what you want from me because I’m not Japanese. I don’t see all the tiny details about you that they see. All your faults and secrets. And you don’t see mine. That’s why it works between us.’
‘You think so?’
‘The past is a dangerous subject,’ Alex said. ‘Sometimes it’s best left alone.’
They walked to the rear of the main building and along a gravel path through a grove of wild rushes to a pond at the corner of the compound walls. A waterfall streamed down a boulder at the far side of the pond and a row of moss-covered stones led across. The waterfall emptied into a bamboo pipe that filled up and tipped into the pond and then swung back and filled again. The pond was full of carp sunning themselves and splashing their tails as they fought for insects. The evening sunlight streamed through the high branches and reflected back from the surface of the water.
‘Let’s walk across to the waterfall,’ Alex said.
Naoko shook her head. ‘No way. I’m not dressed for it. Anyway, we need to go now, or we’ll be late.’
Alex jumped on to the first stone and turned and held out a hand for her. ‘Hold on to me. I won’t let you fall.’
Naoko took a step back. ‘This is stupid,’ she said. ‘Why do you want to see a waterfall in a temple garden? What difference does it make to you?’
‘I’m curious. It’s different for you. You grew up around all of this, but it’s all still new to me. I want to understand it.’
She pointed to the bamboo pipe, filling and emptying in an unbroken rhythm. ‘It’s just a lot of rocks and water. There’s nothing to understand.’
‘I don’t believe that,’ Alex said, and jumped across to the next rock. ‘What happened to the Republic of Naoko? What happened to doing things your way?’
She turned and started to walk along the pathway and called back over her shoulder. ‘Doing things my way doesn’t pay the bills.’
The restaurant was called Go. A giant sculpture of crystal and blown glass hung in the lobby, suspended from the ceiling by a single wire. It was positioned over the entrance, all angles and sharp edges, as if designed to unsettle the guests that passed beneath. The host greeted them coolly and examined the reservation list. When he found their names his demeanour changed and he bowed and showed them inside. A waitress led them through the busy dining room to a private table at the back. Megumi and her boyfriend were already there, drinking chilled sake from wooden cups.
She was just in her twenties, Alex guessed. Shorter than Naoko, with narrow shoulders and slender arms. She had thick black hair with a low, straight fringe, and wide eyes. She radiated an obvious air of confidence, despite her youth.
‘So I finally get to meet you,’ Megumi said. ‘Whenever I ask Naoko about her private life she changes the subject. Sometimes I think that maybe she’s ashamed.’
‘That’s not true,’ Naoko said. ‘I like to keep my mind on my work, that’s all.’
‘This is Shinichi,’ Megumi said, and pointed across the table to her boyfriend. He was tapping a message on his phone, too engrossed in the screen to look up. His hair was dyed blond and spiked with black roots and there was a cigarette tucked behind his ear. He barely responded as he was introduced.
Megumi turned to Alex. ‘So how long have you been a teacher?’ she asked.
He gave an embarrassed half-smile. ‘Is it that obvious?’
She looked him up and down quickly. ‘You’re far too young to dress like that for fun.’
‘It’s the language-school uniform. We all have to wear it. The schools only let us take it off when we sleep.’ He glanced over at Shinichi, in his T-shirt and ripped black jeans. ‘I thought there was a dress code,’ he said.
Megumi lowered her voice. ‘There is. But his father is part-owner.’
The meal was kaiseki-style, with each dish served in antique lacquerware bowls. When the food was laid out it filled the table. There was snow crab and manju dumplings, turnip in white miso, fried monkfish with lotus root, and eel served on steamed komatsuna greens. Megumi asked for more sake, and the waitress brought another bottle.
‘Are you coming to the private view next week?’ Megumi asked. She was wearing a pendant shaped like a heron on a platinum chain and she rolled it between her fingers as she spoke. ‘I think you’ll enjoy it. It’s a great chance to see Naoko as she works the room.’
Naoko gave a quick laugh, trying to sound relaxed. ‘I think we will both be too busy for guests.’
Alex could see she was becoming flustered. The force of her personality was usually enough to control these situations, but Megumi appeared immune. She seemed to grow more at ease as Naoko became tense.
‘Alex has to come,’ she said. ‘It’s the perfect time to introduce him to everyone. I imagine Mr Kimura will be delighted to meet him.’
Naoko shifted her eyes from one to the other. She had the look of someone unused to being backed into a corner. Finally, Megumi reached out a hand and placed it on her arm.
‘I’m only teasing,’ she said. ‘You’re always so serious, Naoko. Honestly, Alex, I don’t know how you manage to control her.’
The room was busy with conversation, the diners talking across one another like mating birds. Megumi pointed out people around the room, using her indiscretion as the perfect cover. There were artists and collectors. An ex-sumo champion. Girls from the fashion houses drinking white burgundy with their clients’ husbands. Megumi seemed to know the personal history behind every face. At the head table was the chairman of the largest airline in Asia. With him was an actress who had been forced to retire now her looks had faded. She was wearing her hair kepatsu-style, with a grey silk kimono and thick obi, like a widow. She served him dutifully from the dishes in the centre of the table while he watched silently, his hands resting on his belly. Behind them, through the picture window, the summit of Mount Fuji seemed to float above the city like a ghostly projection.
When the waitress began to clear the table, Megumi said she was going to the bathroom and beckoned Naoko to go with her. Once they had gone, Shinichi came alive. He leaned closer to Alex across the table.
‘Do you think it’s obvious to everyone
that they hate each other or just to us?’ he asked.
Alex was surprised at the intimate tone. ‘“Hate” is a strong word. I think they’re just competitive.’
Shinichi shook his head doubtfully. ‘That’s just wishful thinking. Megumi is obsessed with her work. It’s all she ever talks about. It’s as if nothing else matters.’
Alex shrugged. ‘She seems confident enough. I’m sure she can handle it.’
‘Don’t be fooled by appearances. She cries herself to sleep most nights when she thinks I’m not listening. There’s a lot of pressure that comes with ambition. That’s probably why I’ve never had any.’
He took a cigarette from a packet on the table and lit it and offered one to Alex. He looked surprised when Alex refused.
‘You’ll have to start if you want to fit in with the Japanese. Tokyo is a paradise for smokers.’
‘It’s the one vice I was never able to pick up,’ Alex said. ‘I managed most of the others.’
Shinichi looked inquisitive. ‘You prefer this?’ he asked, and reached into his pocket and took out a small plastic bag and tossed it on to the table. There was a bundle of fresh-looking weed inside.
Alex looked at it lying there in plain view on the table. He felt uneasy and checked around him quickly. The waitress was making her way over to them.
‘I’m not sure it’s a good idea,’ he said.
Shinichi remained still as she approached, unfazed by any danger. Finally, he reached towards the bag and pushed it closer to Alex. ‘Take it,’ he said. ‘If you have to put up with as much grief as I do, you must need it.’
Naoko came out of the bathroom stall and washed her hands. She checked her make-up in the large mirror and straightened her dress. When the door opened and a middle-aged woman entered, Naoko recognized her instantly. She turned away and took a paper towel from the dispenser and began to pretend to blot her lipstick so the paper obscured her face.
The woman stopped on her way past and turned to look at Naoko’s reflection. She smiled without hesitation.
‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘It’s Eriko, isn’t it?’
Last Stop Tokyo Page 5