A Pale View of Hills

She sighed impatiently. “Etsuko, Can’t you appreciate how loathsome it’s been for someone such as myself to work each day in a noodle shop? But I didn’t complain and I did what was required of me. But now it’s over, I’ve no great wish to see that place again.” A kitten had been clawing at the sleeve of Sachiko’s kimono. She gave ft a sharp slap with the back of her hand and the little creature went scurrying back across the tatami. “So please give my regards to Mrs. Fujiwara,” she said. “And my best wishes for her trade.”

“I’ll do that. Now please excuse me, I must go.”

This time, Sachiko got to her feet and accompanied me to the entryway.

“I’ll come and say goodbye before we leave,” she said, as I was putting on my sandals.

At first it had seemed a perfectly innocent dream; I had merely dreamt of something I had seen the previous day — the little girl we had watched playing in the park. And then the dream came back the following night. Indeed, over the past few months, it has returned to me several times.

Niki and I had watched the girl playing on the swings the afternoon we had walked into the village. It was the third day of Niki’s visit and the rain had eased to a drizzle. I had not been out of the house for several days and enjoyed the feel of the air as we stepped into the winding lane outside.

Niki tended to walk rather fast, her narrow leather boots creaking with each stride. Although I found it no trouble keeping up with her, I would have preferred a more leisurely pace. Niki, one supposes, has yet to learn the pleasures of walking for its own sake. Neither does she seem sensitive to the feel of the countryside despite having grown up here. I said as much to her as we walked, and she retorted that this was not the real countryside, just a residential version to cater for the wealthy people who lived here. I dare say she is right; I have never ventured north to the agricultural areas of England where, Niki insists, I will find the real countryside. Nevertheless, there is a calni and quietness about these lanes I have come to appreciate over the years.

When we arrived at the village I took Niki to the tea shop where I sometimes go. The village is small, just a few hotels and shops; the tea shop is on a street corner, upstairs above a bakery. That afternoon, Niki and t sat at a table next to the windows, and it was from there we watched the little girl playing in the park below. As we watched, she climbed on to a swing and called out towards two women sithng together on a bench nearby. She was a cheerful little girl, dressed in a green mackintosh and small Wellington boots,

“Perhaps you’ll get married and have children soon,’ I said. “I miss little children.”

“I can’t think of anything I’d like less,” said Niki.

“Well, I suppose you’re still rather young”

“It’s nothing to do with how young or old I am. I just don’t feel like having a Lot of kids screaming around me.”

“Don’t worry, Niki,” I said, with a laugh. “I wasn’t insisting you became a mother just yet. I had this passing fancy just now to be a grandmother, that’s all. I thought perhaps you’d oblige, but it can wait.”

The little girl, standing on the seat o1 the swing, was pulling hard on the chains, but somehow she could not make the swing go higher. She smiled anyway and called out again to the women.

“A friend of mine’s just had a baby,” Niki said. ‘She’s really pleased. I can’t think why. Horrible screaming thing she’s produced.”

“Well, at least she’s happy. How old is your friend?”

“Nineteen.”

“Nineteen? She’s even younger than you are. Is she married?”

“No. What difference does that make?”

“But surely she can’t be happy about it.”

“Why not? Just because she isn’t married?’

“There’s that. And the fact that she’s only nineteen. I can’t believe she was happy about it”

“What difference does it make whether she’s married?.

She wanted it, she planned it and everything.’

“Is that what she told you?”

“But, Mother, I know her, she’s a friend of mine. I know she wanted it.”

The women on the bench got to their feet. One of them called to the little girl. She came of the swing and went pinning towards the women,

“And what about the father?” tasked.

He was happy about it too. I remember when they first found out. We alt went out to celebrate.”

‘But people always pretend to be delighted. It’s like that film we saw on the television last night.”

“What film?”

“I expect you weren’t watching it. You were reading your magazine.”

“Oh that, It looked awful.”

It certainly was. But that’s what I mean. I’m sure nobody ever receives the news of a baby like these people do in these films.”

“Honestly, Mother, I don’t know how you can sit and watch rubbish like that. You hardly used to watch television at all. I remember you used to keep telling me off because I watched it so much”

I laughed. “You see how our roles are reversing, Niki. I’m sure you’re very good for me. You must stop me wasting my time away like that.”