Last Stop Tokyo

by James Buckler

  ‘I lost my wallet last night,’ he said.

  ‘No, you didn’t. I have it in my bag. I came here to return it.’

  ‘Why did you take it?’

  ‘To pay for your taxi home. I’m not nursing you and paying for the privilege.’

  ‘What would I do without you?’ Hiro said, and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

  Naoko touched a hand to his. Her head was turned to the window, so he couldn’t see her face.

  ‘Tell me about Alex,’ she said.

  Hiro took a step back, pulling his hand from under hers. ‘I knew it,’ he said. ‘At least I can still read you after all this time.’

  She turned to face him. ‘I’m just curious. Most of your friends are asshole bankers. It’s unusual to see you with someone real. Someone who has feelings.’

  Hiro threw the peel into the bin. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Tell me the first thing that comes into your head,’ she said.

  He didn’t hesitate. ‘That’s easy. I don’t want you seeing him.’

  ‘I’m not seeing him.’

  ‘Then stop playing games, Naoko. I know you. I’m not picking up the pieces again. I know how close you’ve come to hitting rock bottom before. I know because I’m the one you always turn to when you need help. Alex is a bad choice for you.’

  ‘Why do you have to be so dramatic? I’m interested, that’s all. Nothing’s happening.’

  Hiro watched her with a steady gaze as he took a bite of the apple and it crunched between his teeth. He chewed thoughtfully. Naoko turned back to the sink and carried on washing the dishes.

  ‘His room was across the hall from mine when I did my exchange year,’ he said. ‘I lost touch with him when I left London and came back to Japan. Then one day I got a message to say he was in Tokyo, working as a teacher. I was shocked, to be honest. I never imagined him doing something like that. He went straight from law school to a position in one of the big firms. The kind of stellar career everyone always dreams of. The kind they don’t mess up. He seemed different when I first met him here. Older, and more solitary. Kind of beaten down. I had no idea what had happened so I asked some mutual friends back in London.’

  Naoko stopped washing the dishes. She kept her face to the window. ‘And what did they say?’

  ‘I’m not supposed to tell you anything,’ he said. ‘He doesn’t want his misdemeanours following him six thousand miles to Tokyo.’

  ‘It’s only me,’ Naoko said, trying to look bashful. ‘What difference does it make if I know something about one of your friends?’

  Hiro took a last bite of the apple and tossed the core away. ‘I heard he was in some kind of trouble. Big trouble. With drugs.’

  ‘Alex?’

  ‘That’s what I was told by people in London. They said that he had a serious problem. That he was involved in a car accident and really screwed everything up. He was driving high and lost control of the car, and a passenger was killed.’

  Naoko tried to hide her shock. ‘This doesn’t sound like Alex. He seems so reserved.’

  ‘His calmness is new-found, believe me. He never used to be like that. Apparently, the accident was why he lost his job. Why he ended up here. His family disowned him when they found out about the drugs and then he had nowhere else to go.’

  ‘And Alex has confirmed all of this himself?’

  Hiro shook his head dismissively. ‘He had to tell me that he’d been struck off as a lawyer and lost his job. He knew he had to be honest about that much, at least. But the rest he won’t talk about. He keeps it all inside, hidden away, where it can fester. I try to get him to open up, but he’s not that kind of person.’

  ‘What kind of person is he?’

  ‘You want me to tell you?’ Hiro said, his face becoming serious. ‘He’s stubborn and proud. That’s a dangerous combination. He hasn’t got the sense to avoid trouble. It follows him around. It always has done. He’s my friend but it’s no coincidence that every situation he’s involved in turns sour eventually. He doesn’t mean to ruin everything he touches, but he can’t help himself. It’s like a gift he was born with. I know you too well, Naoko. Someone like Alex isn’t meant for you. He’s not like you and me.’

  ‘I’m nothing like you,’ Naoko said, her voice full of disdain.

  ‘Don’t kid yourself. You’re just as protective of your lifestyle as I am. Probably more so. Look where we come from and look how far we’ve managed to go. Don’t forget – I know everything you had to do to get where you are now. How much you’ve sacrificed. Don’t throw that all away. I remember how unhappy you were, and I don’t want to see you go through that again. Promise me you’ll stay away from him. You owe me that much.’

  Yukiko came in from the balcony. Her smile dropped when she sensed the tension in the room. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

  Naoko tried to smile, but it formed weakly on her lips. ‘Nothing. We were just talking about work. That’s all.’

  ‘Why don’t we all go out?’ Yukiko said. ‘It’s such a lovely day, and it’s so rare for me to have you both here. We can go for lunch in the park.’

  Naoko bowed apologetically, her face cast down to the floor. ‘I can’t today, Yukiko-san. I have to meet clients in an hour. Please forgive me. I promise I will call you next week and we can go out together then.’

  ‘Of course,’ Yukiko said. ‘I will look forward to it.’

  Naoko took her coat from the rack by the door and called out goodbye as she left. She walked down the metal staircase and out on to the street. A seed of doubt had been planted inside her now. She could feel it beginning to take root and grow already. When she looked up, she could see Hiro at the rail of the landing, looking down. He didn’t call or say anything, just kept watching her as she walked to the corner. His eyes followed hers, an overbearing expression set on his face, the one she had hated since she was a girl.

  5

  IT WAS HIRO’S fault they had met in the first place. Naoko remembered it clearly. It was the cherry-blossom season and the evenings were starting to grow warm. The company Hiro worked for had chartered a boat to take clients cruising around Tokyo Bay so they could ply them with cocktails and pitch the latest investments. The boat was a traditional yakatabune, with a closed deck and low tables arranged around the cabin for entertaining, the kind that foreigners found exotic. The kind that made them spend money. A gentle breeze blew across the water and a yellow spring moon hung over the curve of the Rainbow Bridge. New passengers boarded in groups as the boat docked at piers along the bay.

  Hiro wanted her to meet a group of Japanese currency traders at a table near the bow, eating from ornate platters of yellowtail and swordfish sashimi. Their wives knelt beside them, slightly removed, watching in obedient silence as the men argued about their tennis scores, laughing at each other like excited schoolboys. At the head of the table was a man in his forties, overweight and breathless, the buttons on his shirt straining from his bulk. His younger companions were trying hard to impress him. From his sour expression, it appeared they were failing. Hiro said his name was Togo Nishi, that he was the new head of risk management.

  ‘What happened to the old head?’ Naoko asked.

  Hiro shrugged. ‘He couldn’t take the pressure any more. They found him hanging in his office last week.’

  Hiro introduced her to the table, taking special care when he came to Nishi. Naoko bowed to each in turn. She saw how Hiro revelled in it, showing her off like a trophy. He sat at an empty place at the table and motioned for her to kneel beside him. Naoko was almost shocked to find herself doing as commanded, lowering herself quickly and tucking her dress beneath her. Nishi selected a piece of tuna, thick and pink as a tongue. He set it down in a saucer of soy to let it marinate. His hair was receding above a broad, round face, smooth and bloodless as a doll’s.

  ‘Hiro tells me you work for the Kimura Gallery,’ Nishi said. ‘Shoji Kimura is a member of my golf club. I’ve played with him a few tim
es. He likes to cheat.’

  Naoko smiled vaguely. ‘Kimura-san must be thirty years older than you. I’m sure he needs all the advantage he can get.’

  ‘I was planning on calling him, actually, but perhaps you can help me. I’ve just bought a beach house in Fukuoka and I’m having it decorated. I want to buy some artwork for the place, and Hiro tells me you’re quite the expert. He assures me that my money would be safe in your hands.’

  ‘Of course, Nishi-san. It would be my pleasure to help in any way I can.’

  ‘I understand that your gallery specializes in modern work, but I don’t want anything pretentious. I want something that I know will keep its value. Not something that people will laugh at behind my back.’

  ‘We only represent the most prestigious new artists. I can assure you all the work we show is of the highest quality.’

  ‘I’m looking to invest in something traditional. I like erotic pieces, shunga especially.’

  He took the tuna from the dish and sucked it from the tips of his chopsticks. The soy stained his lips the colour of chocolate. His boldness brought some interested glances from his entourage. Naoko could sense he was trying to shame her.

  ‘I will try to find something suited to your taste, Nishi-san.’

  ‘And then you will come to Fukuoka with me to supervise the hanging …?’

  He let the question linger and stared at Naoko as if she were included in the price of anything he might buy. His subordinates seemed impressed, but their wives glared at her with undisguised scorn, as if she were deliberately inviting the attention.

  ‘It’s just that it’s such a long journey. I’m not sure Kimura-san would cover my expenses …’

  Nishi waved away her objection. ‘Money is of no concern. You would be my guest.’

  She wanted to tell him she would rather drown herself than spend a second with him being treated as a concubine, no matter what the expense. She looked to Hiro for assistance, but he avoided her eye. She realized he had used her as bait so he could enjoy the patronage of a superior. She felt cheap and hated herself for having to play along. She hated Hiro more because he was usually so quick to assume the role of her protector. Now, it was obviously more beneficial for him to set her up as a sacrifice. Naoko felt exposed and knew she had to tread carefully.

  ‘Why don’t you come to the gallery next week?’ she said. ‘Then we can make all the necessary arrangements and work out the details.’

  ‘You seem nervous, Ms Yamamoto. Do you not think I would be a generous host?’

  ‘I’m sure your hospitality is exemplary, Nishi-san. My concern would be my suitability as a guest.’

  He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a leather cigar case and selected a fresh Cohiba. He sucked the end and waited for one of his employees to light it. Heavy clouds of milky smoke puffed out before him. He knew that to press the matter further would make him look weak.

  ‘Very good,’ he said. ‘Please call my assistant to set up a meeting.’

  Naoko stood up and excused herself. The wives eyed her with contempt as she backed politely away from the table. Naoko could tell none of them had ever worked for a living. They reeked of ostentatious spa resorts and country-club fundraisers. She turned to leave.

  ‘Such a beauty,’ Nishi said to Hiro in perfect English. ‘Magnificent but difficult. Exactly my type. Well done for bringing her.’

  Naoko turned back to face him. ‘I can speak English,’ she said quietly.

  He took a drag on his cigar and let the smoke trickle from one corner of his mouth, staring at her with his small, imperious eyes. ‘I know,’ he said, and waved a hand towards the others at the table. ‘But they can’t.’

  There was a viewing platform at the stern, open to the night. The stars were beginning to shine over the bay as they motored past the island at Odaiba. Naoko looked down from the rail into the black, oily water. It rippled in the breeze like the surface of a shattered mirror. She envied how Hiro had been allowed to reinvent himself, not be a prisoner of his roots. Independence was what she craved and what she was perpetually denied. She felt like a fly trapped in amber. She was alone at the rail, watching the water pass below, when she felt someone come and stand beside her. He cleared his throat to speak.

  ‘Sumi masen,’ he said, pronouncing each syllable carefully.

  She looked up into a pair of blue eyes, wide set and intelligent. She guessed from his manner he was another gaijin from the trading floor, trying his luck with every woman that came into view. He had the same startled look as most westerners new to Tokyo, as if the scale of the place was still a source of anxious surprise. He looked at her and gave a hopeful smile.

  ‘Oshiri o tabetai,’ he said.

  Without thought, Naoko’s hand instinctively swiped out in an arc towards his face. Her palm landed square on his left cheek and he gripped the hand rail to steady himself. From his shocked reaction, she could tell he had no idea what he had just said. Over his shoulder, she could see Nishi sitting with Hiro and the others, but they were too engrossed in conversation to have noticed. She was surprised by her impulsiveness and instantly regretted acting on it. It seemed to belong to a side of herself she had long since tried to abandon.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Are you okay?’

  He was massaging the skin on his face. A red welt was steadily appearing. ‘Do you do that to everyone who asks if you want a drink?’ he said.

  ‘Is that what you think you just asked me?’

  He looked confused. ‘Wasn’t it? Those are the only Japanese words I know.’

  ‘Who taught them to you?’

  ‘My friend Hiro. He says he knows you.’

  ‘Then I suggest you find a better teacher.’

  He began to realize he had been set up and tried to work out how to save the situation but quickly decided too much damage had been done. She watched him as he turned to walk away. He was tall, with pale skin and broad shoulders, his hair the colour of warm sand. He moved without guile, walking with a certain dignity as he made his way back into the cabin. She felt bad for him, for his misplaced effort. Hiro looked over at the westerner with a knowing glance. The pleasure written on his face was too much for Naoko to bear. She hated to give him the satisfaction.

  ‘Wait,’ she called out. ‘I owe you an apology. A drink would be great.’

  He looked back at her and smiled without triumph. ‘I thought I had offended you?’

  ‘You did. So now you can make it up to me.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re not going to swing for me again? It looks like you have a hair trigger.’

  She looked puzzled. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Hair trigger? It means you’re easily provoked and not afraid to fight back.’

  Naoko flashed a shy smile at being so quickly deduced. ‘You’re not the first person to say that,’ she said. ‘Maybe you should just speak to me in English. You’re safer that way.’

  He went to the bar and returned with two glasses of rum punch. There was something about him that was reassuringly calm and solid. A subtle humility that stood out in the room full of overconfident wealth.

  ‘My name is Naoko,’ she said.

  ‘Alex Malloy. Nice to meet you.’

  ‘How long have you been in Tokyo, Alex Malloy?’

  ‘About two weeks.’

  ‘You’re lucky. It’s a sign of good fortune to arrive during hanami. The flowers are only out for such a short time.’

  ‘That’s what everyone tells me.’

  ‘You’re one of Hiro’s colleagues?’

  Alex shook his head gently. ‘No. We’re old friends.’

  ‘You don’t work in finance?’

  ‘Would it make me more interesting if I did?’

  She looked over towards Nishi’s table. ‘Absolutely not,’ she said. ‘So why did you decide to come to Tokyo? Had you visited before?’

  ‘No. I just looked on the map for the furthest place from London. I needed to spend some
time as far away from home as possible.’

  ‘You weren’t scared about moving somewhere so unfamiliar?’

  ‘Terrified. That’s why I had to do it.’

  ‘I think that’s brave.’

  ‘Or stupid. I knew Hiro was here, and I always remembered the stories he used to tell me about Tokyo. I thought I should come and see the city for myself.’

  ‘Sometimes good things only happen to you if you take a chance. I hope it works out for you. Do you have plans for your time here? Places you’d like to visit?’

  ‘Nowhere in particular,’ he said. ‘I just want to stay out of trouble.’

  They moored in front of the park at Urayasu to watch the blooms on the cherry trees that grow close to the bay, their branches hanging over the stone embankment and touching the water. Gulls wheeled overhead, their eyes trained on the tables below. Other boats with other parties anchored alongside, the guests drinking and talking together on the viewing decks. Naoko was sure they were all saying the same things, trying to find the same business opportunities. Shamisen music played gently over their conversations. It all seemed so staged.

  The crew brought dishes of skewered shellfish and earthenware jugs of ginjo-shu for the passengers. People walked down the gangway to the quayside and stretched out on blankets laid out under the trees. There were lanterns in the branches, casting a yellow glow over the waves that washed against the shore. A gust of wind came up suddenly and the boats rocked together and clouds of pink and white petals flew from the trees like confetti. Cheers went up from the crowd as the blossom floated overhead on the breeze. She could see Hiro flirting with a secretary in the shadows. Alex went to the bar for more punch and left her alone at the stern.

  She smelled the pungent scent of Nishi’s cigar smoke before she heard him approach. He looked at least three drinks past his limit, fuelled with the false courage of a man who believes his time has come. He slurred as he spoke.

  ‘I think the blossoms are beautiful this year,’ he said. ‘But you are so much more eye-catching than anything else here tonight.’