“When you had your conversation, was it you who started it?”
“No, it wasn’t. The landlady invited me in for a cup of tea. When I went to her apartment, her brother was visiting. We started talking while we were having tea.”
“So the detective had her call you over.”
Emiko had not expected these words. “I’m sure it was a coincidence. I don’t think you should be so suspicious.”
“It doesn’t matter which it was,” Sekigawa said. “At any rate, I want you to move out of that apartment. I’ll find some other place for you.”
Emiko knew what he was thinking. Sekigawa was always worried that his relationship with her would become known to others.
“If you don’t like my present apartment, I’ll move,” she said, giving in.
Sekigawa stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.
He was in a bad mood and she wanted to coax him out of it. Emiko needed him to be in a good mood, especially tonight.
“The nights are already so chilly,” she said.
Sekigawa was still silent.
They could see the neon lights of Akasaka. On the right was a large new hotel.
“Oh, look.” Emiko had been looking out the window, and suddenly poked Sekigawa’s knee. “Isn’t that Waga-
Next to the hotel was a nightclub with its entrance lit up. Luxury cars were parked in front of the club. Among the customers leaving the club was Waga Eiryo.
“Hmm,” Sekigawa said, looking out.
“He’s with a pretty woman. Is she his fiancee?”
“Yes. That’s Tadokoro Sachiko.”
Their attention was held by Waga and Sachiko who stood waiting for a car. Their taxi sped by the standing figures.
“They seem so happy,” Emiko said with a sigh. “They’re getting married soon, aren’t they? And before they do, they’re enjoying going out together,” Emiko said with envy.
“Who knows,” Sekigawa said.
“What do you mean? They seem so happy together.”
“Right now, yes. But no one knows what will happen tomorrow.”
“You shouldn’t say such things. He’s your friend; why can’t you be happy for him?”
“Of course, I’d like to be happy for him. It’s because I’m his friend that I don’t want to say the standard, trite things.”
“Did something happen?” Emiko looked at Sekigawa’s profile with a worried expression.
“No, nothing,” Sekigawa answered. “But Waga is quite ambitious, so who knows if he really loves her. His target may be her father, Tadokoro Shigeyoshi, and his own road to glory with that man’s backing. Do you think that will make her happy?”
“If there is love, then wouldn’t it be all right?”
“I wonder.” Sekigawa seemed not to like what he was hearing. “If that kind of love lasts, I suppose it could be called happiness.”
“But I’m envious. Even if you’re right, the two of them can go anywhere they like together. You and I are always meeting in secret.”
Without replying, Sekigawa watched the darkened scenery of the Aoyama district go by outside the window.
The other side of Roppongi intersection was dotted with restaurants specializing in Russian, Italian, Austrian, Hungarian, and other cuisines. As they were operated by foreigners, journalists had nicknamed the area “the international settlement.” Some of these restaurants stayed open until three o’clock in the morning.
Sekigawa ordered the taxi to stop in front of a restaurant with its light on. Up a red-carpeted set of stairs there was a spacious dining area.
“Welcome.” A waiter guided them to the back.
The dining area was divided into two rooms. Several young couples were seated in the rear section.
Sekigawa ordered a highball.
“What about you?”
“I’d like to have an orange juice,” Emiko answered.
The waiter departed.
“What is it that you want to talk to me about?” Sekigawa asked, his gaze fastened on Emiko.
The other couples were also talking in low voices. At this hour, there was no music and no sound from the street. The late night restaurant was enveloped in its own special atmosphere.
Pressed by Sekigawa, Emiko couldn’t at once come out with the next words. She bowed her head and fidgeted.
“You called me during the day, so I thought it was something important and made a special effort to come out tonight. I wish you’d hurry up and tell me what it is.”
“I’m sorry.” It was about telephoning him that she apologized. Sekigawa often told her that he did not want her to call him. Even so, Emiko did not continue. The waiter served them; she sipped her juice through a straw, eagerly.
“Did you have too much to drink tonight?” Sekigawa asked, watching her face.
“No.” Emiko shook her head slightly.
“You seem to be awfully thirsty.”
“Yes.”
“Are you hungry?”
“No.”
As Sekigawa drank his highball, the waiter brought over an appetizer. It was a plate of smoked salmon. Emiko stared at it.
Noticing her gaze, Sekigawa offered the dish to her. “Eat some if you like.”
“Thank you. I’ll just take this.” Emiko pierced the slice of lemon on the plate with a toothpick. Putting it into her mouth, she ate it as if it were delicious.
“Does such a sour thing taste good to you?” Sekigawa asked, watching her.
At this moment, Sekigawa’s expression changed. He had realized something. He glared at Emiko. Suddenly shifting his chair around, he moved close to sit next to her.
“You,” he said softly in her ear, “can’t possibly be…”
Emiko turned bright red. Her hand stopped moving. She sat perfectly still.
“So that’s it.” Sekigawa was still looking at her intently.
Without uttering a word, Emiko nodded.
Sekigawa said nothing further. Looking away from her, he tightened the grip on his glass.
“It’s really true? There’s no mistake?” he asked after some time.
“Yes,” Emiko said.
“How far along is it?”
The answer to this question also took a while. Calling up her courage, Emiko answered, “It’s almost four months.”
Sekigawa clenched the glass so tightly that it nearly broke. “You fool.” He spoke in a deliberately low voice. “Why didn’t you say anything about it before now?”
He focused on the hair of her downcast forehead.
“I was afraid that it would end up like the last time,” she said.
“Of course,” he said, drinking a mouthful of highball. “That’s the obvious solution.”
“No, it’s not.” Emiko raised her head. Her eyes showed a determination she had not displayed so far. “I did as you said before, but now I regret it.”
“Regret it?”
“Yes. You wouldn’t listen to what I said. You don’t know how disappointed I felt. But this time… this time I’m
