‘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.’
He snapped, ‘Nothing out of the ordinary. Tora is once again besotted with some whore from the quarter. He has no control over his sexual urges the moment a loose woman makes eyes at him.’
She flinched at his language. ‘Tora has a kind heart,’ she said. ‘He does not make distinctions.’
He snorted.
‘Please don’t be this way, Akitada. I think you must have misunderstood something. This isn’t like Tora.’ When he shook his head stubbornly, her eyes flashed and she cried, ‘Oh, Akitada, think! Whatever Tora has done, don’t forget what you owe him. He saved your life. He came for you in Sado. He fought beside you. You must find him and bring him back. Neither of you will ever be happy again unless you do.’
He was surprised at her urgency and digested this in silence. She was right, of course, and that rankled. He had thought himself the injured party and was still not altogether convinced that he wasn’t. ‘What do you suggest I do?’ he grumbled. ‘Do you want me to question every madam, porter, and whore in the quarter until I find him? And then apologize because I have found his work unsatisfactory lately?’ He turned and pointed an accusing finger at the ragged hole in the veranda floor. ‘This would never have happened, nor this -’ he gestured towards the stained ceiling – ‘nor all the other leaks in our roofs, nor the crumbling outer wall, nor the gods know what else, if Tora had done even a part of the chores he owed me.’
She closed her eyes briefly before his anger, then said, ‘You’re right, but you must find him all the same. There are more important things owed between you. Do you really want to lose Tora, too?’
He brushed a weary hand across his face. ‘What does it matter? What does anything matter?’
‘Oh, Akitada.’ Tamako jumped up and stamped her foot. ‘It matters to me. It matters to Tora. It matters to all of us who care about you.’
His resistance crumbled. He looked up at her uncertainly. ‘You really think I should look for Tora?’
‘Of course.’
‘But what about the boy?’
‘You said he was safe. Find Tora first. The rest will fall into place.’
‘Well…’
‘Please.’
Akitada saw the entreaty in her eyes and sighed. ‘Very well. But if he doesn’t have a very good explanation for this latest stunt, I’ll be done with him.’
‘Thank you.’ She smiled.
His heart lifted a little. Whatever Tora was up to, the search would take his mind off his other troubles. He rose and glanced towards the veranda. ‘Stay off those boards until they are mended. If you and Seimei will make a list of repairs and leave it on my desk, I will see what can be done. I’ll try to be back for the evening rice.’
NINE
The sun was up when Tora got back to the capital. He was limping badly and put one foot in front of the other by sheer willpower. There was a hole in one of his boots, and the sharp gravel of the highway had cut his foot. He was no longer hungry, though he had eaten nothing since the previous morning, but the lack of food and sleep made him light-headed.
Perhaps he had made this dreadful trip for nothing. Perhaps Hanae would receive him with a hug and a smile. She would make him sit down on the front steps beside the morning glory vine and take off his boots. Then she would bathe his sore feet and bandage them, feed him some warm rice gruel, and hold him in her arms.
But Hanae was not home. Only the white cat greeted him, mewing plaintively and rubbing against his legs. The cat was Hanae’s, just as Trouble was his. Ordinarily, the cat did not care much for Tora, whom it seemed to consider an interloper. Trouble did not discriminate. He loved both his owners equally. But now the cat, an opportunistic creature, was distraught and, thinking it had been abandoned by its mistress, it greeted Tora effusively.
Followed by the mewing cat, Tora limped to the backyard. He drank at the well and washed his face and hands. Then he filled the dog’s dry water bowl. The cat drank daintily, twitching its tail. It preferred fish broth.
‘Make yourself useful,’ growled Tora, taking off his boots to wash his wounded foot. ‘Catch some rats. Your mistress always said you were a good mouser.’ The cat pressed its head into his hand and purred. Tora thought of Hanae and felt pity for the animal. ‘I’m hungry myself,’ he said apologetically.
