In all possibility, it was nothing so remarkable. The tragedy of the little girl found hanging from a tree ? much more so than the earlier child murders ? had made a shocked impression on the neighbourhood, and I could not have been alone that summer in being disturbed by such images.
It was the latter part of the afternoon, a day or two after our outing to Inasa, and I was occupying myself with some small chores around the apartment when I happened to glance out of the window. The wasteground outside must have hardened significantly since the first occasion I had? watched that large American car, for now I saw it coming across the uneven surface without undue difficulty. It continued to come nearer, then bumped upon to the concrete beneath my window. The glare on the windscreen prevented me from seeing clearly, but I received a distinct impression the driverwas not alone. The car moved around the apartment block and out of my vision.
It must have been just then that it happened, just as I was gazing towards the cottage in a somewhat confused state of mind. With no apparent provocation, that chilling image intruded into my thoughts, and I came away from the window with a troubled feeling. I returned to my housework, trying to put the picture out of my mind, but it was some minutes before I felt sufficiently rid of it to give consideration to the reappearance of the large white car, It was an hour or so later I saw the figure walking across the wasteground towards the cottage. I shaded my eyes to see more clearly; it was a woman ? a thin figure ? and she walked with a slow deliberate step. The figure paused outside the cottage for some time, then disappeared behind the sloping roof. I continued to watch, but she did not re-emerge; to all appearances, the woman had gone inside.
For several moments, I remained at the window, unsure what to do. Then finally, I put on some sandals and left the apartment. Outside, the day was at its hottest, and the
F journey across those few dried acres seemed to take an eternity. Indeed, the walk to the cottage tired me so much that when I arrived I had almost forgotten my original purpose. It was with a kind of shock, then, that I heard I voices from within the cottage. One of the voices was Mariko?s; the other I did not recognize. I stepped closer to the entrance, but could make out no words. For several moments I remained there, not sure what I should do. Then 1 slid open the entrance and called out. The voices stopped.
I waited another moment, then stepped inside.
Chapter Ten
After the brightness of the day outside, the interior of the cottage seemed cool and dark. Here and there, the sun came in sharply through narrow gaps, lighting up small patches on the tatami. The odour of damp wood seemed as strong as ever.
It took a second or two for my eyes to adjust. There was an old woman sitting on the tatami, Mariko in front of her. In turning to face me, the old woman moved her head with caution as if in fear of hurting her neck. Her face was thin, and had a chalky paleness about it which at first quite unnerved me. She looked to be around seventy or so, though the frailness of her neck and shoulders could have derived from ill-health as much as from age. Her kimono was of a dark sombre colour, the kind normally worn in mourning. Her eyes were slightly hooded and watched me with no apparent emotion.
?How do you do,? she said, eventually.
I bowed slightly and returned some greeting. For a second or two, we looked at each other awkwardly.
?Are you a neighbour?? the old woman asked, She had a slow way of speaking her words.
?Yes,? I said. ?A friend.?
She continued to look at me for a moment, then asked:
Have you any idea where the occupant has gone? She?s left the child here on her own.?
The little girl had shifted her position so that she was sitting alongside the stranger. At the old woman?s question, Mariko looked at me intently.
?No, I?ve no idea,? I said.
?It?s odd,? said the woman. ?The child doesn?t seem to know either. I wonder where she could be. I cannot stay long.?
We gazed at each other for a few moments more. ?Have you come far?? I asked,
?Quite far. Please excuse my clothes. I?ve just been attending a funeral.?
?I see.? I bowed again. -
?A sorrowful occasion,? the old woman said, nodding slowly to herself. ?A former colleague of my father. My father is too ill to leave the house. He sent me to pay his respects. It was a sorrowful occasion.? She passed her gaze around the inside of the cottage, moving her head with the same carefulness. ?You have no idea where she is?? she asked again.
?No, I?m afraid not.?
?1 cannot wait long. My father will be getting anxious.?
?Is there perhaps some message I could pass on?? I asked.
The old woman did not answer for a while. Then she said: ?You could perhaps tell her I came here and was asking after her. I am a relative. My name is Yasuko Kawada.?
?Yasuko-San?? I did my best to conceal my surprise. ?You?re Yasuko-San. Sachiko?s cousin??
The old woman bowed, and as she did so her shoulders trembled slightly. ?If you would tell her I was here and that I was asking after her. You have no idea where she could be??
Again, I denied any knowledge. The woman began nodding to herself once more.
?Nagasaki is very different now,? she said. ?This afternoon, I could hardly recognize it.?
?Yes,? I said. ?I suppose it?s greatly changed. But do you not live in Nagasaki??
?We?ve lived in Nagasaki now for many years. It?s greatly changed, as you say. New buildings have appeared, even new streets. It must have been in the spring, the last time I came out into the town. And even since then, new buildings have appeared. I?m certain they were not there in the spring. In tact, on that occasion too, I believe I
