‘Whatever happened, I left it behind in London. Just remember that you’ve promised to keep it to yourself. I don’t want my bad reputation following me.’
‘That must be why you’re always so sensible now. Why you never get drunk any more.’
‘I am drunk,’ Alex said.
‘But you never let anyone see it. You never act any differently.’
Alex shrugged. ‘I just like to hold myself together.’
Hiro leaned across the table. ‘You can’t hold yourself together all the time, gaijin.’
There was silence between them for a while. Hiro watched the girls move across the stage, his eyes flicking hungrily from one to the next. He had been so different, Alex thought, back in London, when they had first met. He was calm and quiet, almost introverted, when he was younger, before he realized he had ended up on the winning side in life and quickly learned the new rules. Learned that money was power. Now, it seemed he was ruled by his appetites; the more he could have, the more he wanted. It was becoming harder to reconcile the person now, buttoned up in his expensive suit, with the bookish student Alex had first known. Still, it was natural for things to change. It probably happened to all friends eventually, he thought. Even the briefest recollection of his final few months in London was enough to make Alex wish for the company of the old Hiro again. The last thing he needed in Tokyo was more chaos.
He watched his friend down his cocktail and call the waitress for another. Soon, that was gone and replaced by a third. Hiro’s face was growing heavy with alcohol now and he was fading as company. Alex wondered what he was trying to prove. He knew better than to keep up. His untouched drinks collected on the table before him as he watched the ice melt in his glass and waited.
Hiro saw Naoko first. Alex noticed the change in his expression, the way his mouth tightened as he looked up and stared back through the bar. She was standing in the doorway, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark as she took off her coat.
She was tall for a Japanese woman, with straight shoulders and narrow hips. She stood upright and elegantly balanced, her strong features set on a delicate face. Her eyes were narrow and Asiatic and her hair was blue-black, hanging almost to her waist. One corner of her mouth was slightly crooked, turned upwards, as if something about life seemed perpetually to intrigue her. She was wearing a green dress, the one she had worn the night they had first gone out together, and there was a silk wrap around her shoulders. Her eyes shone fiercely in the lights as she approached. Alex knew most Japanese women would die of shame before they walked into a Kabukicho bar alone but she wore her composure bravely, betraying nothing as the men in the shadows turned to watch her as she passed.
She took a seat in the booth, and Alex felt her hand touch his beneath the table as she sat. She ordered a vodka tonic.
‘It’s good to see you again, Naoko,’ Alex said.
‘It’s good to see you too,’ she said politely, as if greeting an old friend. She turned to Hiro, immediately registering how inebriated he looked. ‘So this is where you drink yourself stupid at night while your mother is sick and waiting for you to visit?’
Hiro said, ‘Please, Naoko. You’ve only just arrived and you want to argue already? It’s not my fault you go to see her every day. You make me look bad.’
His tone was imploring, but Alex could see she had no intention of backing down.
‘I don’t go every day,’ she said. ‘I go just enough to make sure she is okay. All she ever talks about is her precious son, and look where you are.’
Hiro turned to Alex. ‘My mother says I’m a bad son and a bad man. She wishes she had Naoko as a daughter.’
‘I’m there for her whenever she needs me,’ Naoko said.
Hiro’s eyes darkened. ‘If my mother thought I would rush home to her, she would be sick every night. Anyway, she just wants to talk about how much you both hate men.’
Naoko looked at him squarely. ‘How much we hate men like you.’
There was a long silence. Naoko’s words seemed to grow harsher the longer they were left unacknowledged.
Hiro turned to Alex. ‘I told you she was jaja uma.’
Naoko’s face flushed with anger. ‘Don’t ever call me that again,’ she said.
‘Why not?’ Hiro sneered. ‘We both know it’s true.’
He finished his drink and placed the empty glass on the table. ‘It’s no fun with you here, Naoko. No fun at all.’ He stood up and walked away with a wounded look, moving unsteadily as he made his way past the stage, out through the exit and on to the street.
Alex turned and watched him leave. ‘I knew this was a bad idea.’
‘It was your idea to call me and ask me to come,’ Naoko said.
‘I mean coming to a dive like this.’ He waved a hand around at the tacky surroundings. ‘He’s been acting weird ever since we arrived. Sometimes I think he does it all for show.’
‘Oh, he’s a real mama’s boy at heart. Don’t let his tough-guy act fool you. He’ll forget about it all when he comes back.’
Alex looked towards the door. ‘I don’t think he’s coming back,’ he said.
They took their coats and left the bar and walked along the narrow street towards the lights of Shinjuku. The girls outside the massage parlours whispered for business as they passed. Alex called Hiro’s number but there was no answer. He could see Naoko knew she had gone too far but was too proud to admit it. In an alley off the main square, they found him asleep in a doorway, his coat wrapped tightly around him. Alex tried to wake him but there was no way he was going to stir. Naoko stood and watched, refusing to show any sympathy.
‘We can’t leave him here,’ Alex said.
‘He can rot there for all I care.’
‘You don’t mean that. He’s my friend. I’ll have to take him home with me.’
Naoko thought for a moment. ‘His mother’s house is closer. We could take him there. She’ll be pleased to see him. Even in this condition.’
Alex stood and wiped the dirt from his hands. ‘You think that’s a good idea?’ he asked.
‘Why not?’ she said. ‘At least someone will be happy.’
They hailed a cab and placed Hiro between them, his head nodding gently as they drove through the junctions and traffic signals towards the highway. They followed the road east towards Asakusa and crossed the Sumida river. The driver pulled on to a side street flanked by a line of disused warehouses and scrubby patches of waste ground. Naoko paid the fare and Alex pulled Hiro from the cab. He heaved him out and settled his dead weight on the wet kerb.
The building was a block of twelve grey apartments above a grocery shop and an all-night laundry. Beside the entrance, two broken vending machines stood in a pool of water, one tipped against the other. There was no lift, just a rusted iron fire escape that wound up one side. Alex pulled Hiro’s arm across his shoulders and hefted him up the steps to the landing and propped him against the door. Naoko rang the bell and motioned for him to wait by the stairs. Hiro’s mother was old and frightened of foreigners, she said. Lights came on through the windows as he walked back down the landing and waited. The rain was coming down hard now. After a few minutes, Naoko came out and closed the door quietly behind her. They walked down the fire escape, her heels ringing on the metal treads.
‘He’s sleeping now,’ she said. ‘At least his mother is glad to nurse him.’
‘Sounds good. I wish I had someone to nurse me.’
‘You’re drunk too, aren’t you?’
‘Me? I’m fine.’
‘You must be a little bit drunk. That’s why you asked Hiro to call me. That’s why you take crazy chances.’
‘You came to meet me,’ he said. ‘You’re taking the same chances that I am.’
Naoko opened her umbrella and stepped from the cover of the stairwell. Fat raindrops shuddered against the fabric. She tilted the umbrella to one side to check no one was watching them from the window above, and they began to walk towards the high road.
‘Hiro’s definitely going to suspect something’s happening now,’ she said.
‘Why don’t you just tell him? It’s been long enough. I don’t like keeping secrets from my friends.’
Naoko shrugged. ‘He keeps secrets. You keep secrets.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like why you’re really in Tokyo. Like who you really are.’
Alex shrugged. ‘I’m just an English teacher.’
‘All of Hiro’s other friends from London are bankers and stockbrokers. What happened to you?’
‘You’re so smart. Why don’t you take a guess?’
Naoko slowly turned the canopy of the umbrella above her. ‘I think you’re running away.’
Alex laughed nervously. ‘Running away from what?’
‘I don’t know. Something you don’t want anyone to know. Maybe something bad. Something intriguing.’
At least Hiro had kept his word, Alex thought. She obviously knew nothing. ‘I wish I had a good story to tell you,’ he said. ‘I really do. But I still don’t see why that means you won’t tell Hiro about us.’
‘Trust me,’ she said. ‘This way is better for both of us. You’re only here for a short time. Then you’ll go back to London and I’ll have to stay here on my own. That’s why it’s best not to get too attached.’
She said it in her usual matter-of-fact manner but Alex could sense the challenge implicit in her words. He felt the temptation to tell her she was wrong, that he could never go back, even if he wanted to, but he stopped himself before he spoke out and regretted it later. Some things were best left unsaid.
‘Hiding in the shadows doesn’t come naturally to me,’ Alex said. ‘I just don’t like it.’
Naoko stopped and looked at him with raised eyebrows. ‘Except when it suits you,’ she said.
She stepped closer to him under the cover of the umbrella and wiped the drops of rain from his face with delicate fingers.
‘Come on. It’s Friday night, and I’ve had a busy week. I’m hungry. You can buy me a late dinner.’
2
IT WAS GONE 2 a.m. The restaurant was empty but still open despite the hour. The owner was sitting alone on a stool in the doorway, reading the racing news. An old dog lay curled up at his feet, watching the rain as it sheeted down from the edge of the canvas awning. The owner looked pleased to have customers so late and showed them to a table in the window and bowed as he pulled out a chair for Naoko. She took a seat and lit a cigarette from a pack of Seven Stars. There were red paper lanterns hanging low over the tables and the walls were plastered with flyers advertising upcoming bouts in the sumo hall. There was a smell of burnt spice and soot ground into the furniture. The owner lit the gas burner in the centre of the table and brought them plates of marinated meat and vegetables and a bowl of kimchi. Naoko asked for a pitcher of beer and poured two glasses. She held the pitcher high so the foam spilled over the sides and ran down on to the table. It was the Tokyo way, she said. Seven parts beer to three parts froth.
Alex looked out at the deserted streets, the weeds springing up through the cracks in the pavement, the old buildings on the verge of tumbling down.
‘I never knew Hiro’s mother lived somewhere like this. It’s not what I imagined at all. I always thought he grew up in a mansion block in Shirokane or someplace like that. He’s always given me that impression.’
‘That’s what he’d like you to think. But this is it. This is where we’re both from. My parents lived in the flat upstairs from Hiro’s mother, at least until they moved out to Tachikawa for some peace and quiet. Hiro and I went to the same high school together. I’ve known him all my life.’
‘That kind of friendship is rare. In London people are always moving around, so it’s hard to stay in touch.’
‘Believe me, it’s even rarer in Tokyo. Here it feels like you never really know anyone at all.’
‘At least it explains why he’s so focused on making money now.’
Naoko placed the strips of beef on the grill with long chopsticks. They seared instantly in the heat and she served them on to the plates.
‘He had a hard time as a kid. I had to protect him at school from all the talk about his family. The kids in his class were pretty cruel. His dad left when he was very young. His mother told him he had died so they could avoid the shame of being abandoned. Hiro was the only kid at school with just a mother. There wasn’t even a word for “single parent” back then. It was unheard of. When he was at college he found out his father was still alive and living in a small town outside Tokyo. He just hadn’t wanted a wife and son. Hiro keeps trying to get his mother to move out of here to someplace more comfortable, especially now she’s getting old. But she won’t ever leave. It’s like she has to stay here and punish herself until the end.’
‘I never knew any of this.’
‘It’s a mystery to me what men talk about when they’re together.’
‘There’s no mystery. We just avoid anything personal, that’s all.’
Naoko took a mouthful of food and chewed carefully. ‘What about you? What are your family like?’
‘Nothing like that. They were just normal, I suppose. Both my parents were teachers. They’re retired now.’
‘They must be proud of you. Following them into the family profession.’
Alex kept his eyes down to the table. ‘I wouldn’t say that exactly.’
When he had finished eating he took his chopsticks and stuck them upright in the remains of the rice in his bowl. Naoko reached across the table and pulled them out.
‘You shouldn’t do that,’ she said. ‘It’s bad luck. It means someone has died.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’
She smiled and her eyes glinted in the faint red light. ‘That’s so English of you. Saying sorry all the time. Apologizing is a national sport in England, I think.’
‘And shopping is a national sport in Japan.’
‘Maybe window shopping,’ Naoko said. ‘Anyway, I’ve decided not to be Japanese. I’m going to be something else. Something I choose.’
‘Like what? You can’t just pick a nationality.’
‘Why not?’ she said. ‘I think I will be the Republic of Naoko. I’m even going to have my own flag.’
‘A country of one? Sounds lonely to me.’
‘Not really. I’m going to outlaw loneliness. I can do that because I’m president. President for life.’
Alex sipped his beer. ‘Your republic, your rules.’
When they had finished, they paid the bill and thanked the owner as they left. There was a line of taxis parked at the rank outside, the drivers asleep with newspapers over their faces to shut out the streetlights.
‘Are you coming home with me?’ Naoko asked.
‘Do you want me to?’
‘Of course. But you have to leave early.’
‘Why?’
She looked down at the tips of her shoes. ‘Mr Kimura is coming over in the morning.’
‘Again?’
‘He’s my boss, Alex. I can’t say no. He just wants to drop off some paperwork. He’s harmless. He’s just old and lonely and likes to have company.’
‘I doubt he’s as harmless as you think.’
Naoko knocked on the window of the taxi at the head of the line. The driver woke up with a start and wiped his eyes, his collar standing crooked against his neck. Naoko closed her umbrella and held the taxi door open.
‘Are you coming or not?’ she asked.
Alex paid the driver and they walked up the steps to the entrance of her building. Naoko checked the mailbox in the lobby but it was empty except for some junk mail and a flyer from the new pizzeria. She pressed for the lift and they rode up together to the twelfth floor. She opened her front door slowly so as not to wake her neighbours, and they both kicked off their shoes in the entrance hall.
‘Tadaima,’ Alex said into the darkened flat. ‘We’re home.’
‘Okaeri nasai. Welcome back
,’ Naoko replied, and went into the kitchen and switched on the lights.
The apartment had windows on three sides. It was large for a Tokyo flat, with a view over the rooftops of Mejiro. It was a corner room, all white, with pale furniture and high ceilings and a glass-walled balcony. A long steel bookcase stood in the middle of the room, dividing it in two: the bedroom on one side and the living room and galley kitchen on the other. Naoko took a bottle of plum wine from the fridge, moving as silently as possible.
‘Do you creep around like this all the time?’ Alex asked. ‘Or just when I’m here?’
She poured two glasses and handed one to Alex, watching him over the rim as she took a sip. ‘You know what my neighbours are like. They look at me sideways when I pass them in the lobby as it is. If they thought I had a foreign man in here, it would be the talk of the building. Also, Mr Kimura knows the manager. It’s how I got the lease. If he were to find out, I would be in big trouble.’
‘I don’t know how you can stand to live this way. Locked up in a gilded cage.’
‘Well, not everyone wants to live like you,’ Naoko said.
‘And how do I live?’
She swallowed a mouthful of ume-shu and smiled at him playfully. ‘Like a bum.’
In the living room there was a large framed picture newly hung on the wall above the sofa. It was a screen print in red and black ink of a young Japanese woman staring serenely from the canvas, her body twisted into an impossible yoga position. She was standing naked on one leg, holding the other ankle over her head. A lit cigarette protruded from the cleft of her vagina.
Alex stood before it in silence, examining the piece carefully. Naoko nestled on to the sofa and tucked her feet beneath her.
‘Do you like it?’ she asked. ‘It’s a print from the new exhibition we’re having at the gallery. The artist is called Masakazu. I’ve known him a long time. He gave it to me as a gift.’
‘I’m not sure I understand it,’ Alex said.
‘I don’t think there’s a lot to understand.’
‘Does it have a title?’
Naoko smiled knowingly, predicting his response. ‘It’s called Fifty Views of Mount Fuji in the Rain.’
Last Stop Tokyo Page 2
