A Pale View of Hills

“She killed herself. They said she cut her throat. I never knew her. You see, t4arij?o went running off one morning. I can’t remember why, perhaps she was upset about something. Anyway she went running off out into the streets, so I went chasing after her. It was very early, there was nobody about. Mariko ran down an alleyway, and I followed after her. There was a canal at the end and the woman was kneeling there, up to her elbows ifljer. A young woman, very thin. I knew something was wrong as soon as I saw her. You see, Etsuko, she turned round and

K smiled at Mariko. I knew something was wrong and Mariko must have done too because she stopped running. At first I thought the woman was blind, she had that kind of look, her eyes didn’t seem to actually see anything. Well, she brought her arms out of the canal and showed us what she’d been holding under the water. It was a baby. I took hold of Mariko then and we came out of the alley.”

I remained silent, waiting for her to continue. Sachiko helped herself to more tea from the pot.

‘AS I say,” she said, “I heard the woman killed herself. That was a few days afterwards.”

“How old was Mariko then?”

“Fjye, almost six. She saw other things in Tokyo. But she always remembers that woman.”

“She saw everything? She saw the baby?’

“Yes. Actually, for a long time I thought she hadn’t understood what she’d seen. She didn’t talk about it afterwards. She didn’t even seem particularly upset at the time. She didn’t start talking about it until a month or so later. We were sleeping in this old building then. I woke up in the night and saw Mariko sitting up, staring at the doorway. There wasn’t a door, it was just this doorway, and Mariko was sitting up looking at it. I was quite alarmed. You see, there was nothing to stop anyone walking into the building. I asked Mariko what was wrong and she said a woman had been standing there watching us. I asked what sort of

woman and Mariko said it was the one we’d seen that morning. Watching us from the doorway. I got up and looked around but there wasn’t anyone there. It’s quite possible, of course, that some woman was standing there. There was nothing to stop anyone stepping inside.”

“I see. And Mariko mistook her for the woman you’d seen.”

“I expect that’s what happened. In any case, that’s when it started, Mariko’s obsession with that woman. I thought

• she’d grown out of it, but just recently it’s started again. If she starts to talk about it tonight, please don’t pay her any

attention.”

“Yes, I see.”

“You know how it is with children,” said Sachiko. “They play at make-believe and they get confused where their

fantasies begin arid end.’

“Yes, I suppose it’s nothing unusual really.”

“You see, Etsuko, things were very difficult when Mariko was born.”

‘Yes, they must have been,” I said. “I’m very fortunate, I know.”

“Things were very difficult. Perhaps it was foolish t9 have married when I did. After all, everyone could see a war was coming. But then again. Etsuko, no one knew what a war was really like, not in those days. I married into a highly respected family. I never thought a war could change things so much.”

Sachiko put down her teacup and passed a hand through her hair. Then she smiled quickly. “As regards tonight, Etsuko,’ she said, “my daughter is quite capable of amusing herself. So please don’t bother too much with her.”

Mrs Fujiwara’s face often grew weary when she talked about her son.

“He’s becoming an old man,” she was saying. “Soon he’ll have only the old maids to choose from.’

We were sitting in the forecourt of her noodle shop. Several tables were occupied by office-workers having their lunch.

“Poor Kazuo-San,” Isaid, with a laugh. “But Ican understand how he feels. It was so sad about Miss Michiko. And they were engaged for a long time, weren’t they?”

“Three years. I never saw the point in these long engagements. Yes, Michiko was a nice girl. I’m sure she’d be the first to agree with me about Kazuo mourning her like this. She would have wanted him to continue with his life.”

“It must be difficult for him though. To have built up plans for so long only for things to end like that.”

“But that’s all in the past now,” said Mrs. Fujiwara. “We’ve all had to put things behind us. You too, Etsuko, I remember you were very heartbroken once. But you managed to carry on.”

“Yes, but I was fortunate. Ogata-San was very kind to me in those days. I don’t know what would have become of me otherwise.”

Yes, he was very kind to you. And of course, that’s how you met your husband. But you deserved to be fortunate.”

“I really don’t know where I’d be today if Ogata-San hadn’t taken me in. But I can understand how difficult it must be — for your son, I mean. Even mel still think about Nakamura-San sometimes. I can’t help it. Sometimes I wake up and forget. I think I’m still back here, here in Nakagawa