‘You really are becoming a fount of international wisdom,’ Alice-Miranda grinned. ‘With a very good imagination.’
The three girls ran to catch up to Ambrosia, who was stalking away at top speed.
‘Mummy, what were you thinking?’ Jacinta rebuked.
‘I don’t know. When you told me what happened at the shops and then he was right there, I . . . I just wanted to make him understand that he couldn’t go around doing that sort of thing to people, especially not children,’ Ambrosia replied.
‘Thank you for sticking up for me, but next time, please don’t do it when someone has just died,’ Jacinta said.
Ambrosia smoothed the front of her trousers and pulled her handbag over her shoulder. ‘Sorry, girls. I don’t know what came over me. Let’s just get to our appointment.’
Alice-Miranda smiled at her. ‘Maybe your timing was a little off, but you were thinking about Jacinta, and that’s a good thing.’
Ambrosia looked at the tiny girl. ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right about that, on all counts. I’m sure we’re going to have a lovely day,’ she said with a decisive nod. ‘But I could do with a coffee.’
As luck would have it, there was a vending machine on the next corner. The girls had been surprised to see them all around the city: on street corners, in alleyways, at railway stations. They contained everything from chocolate bars and chips to beer and cigarettes. Millie had decided that Japanese children must be a lot more responsible than children in most other countries. It seemed that anyone could put money in and get the goods out, but apparently it was unheard of for youngsters to raid the machines for anything they weren’t allowed to have.
As the girls walked past, Millie peered inside the glass case. ‘Ambrosia, I can get you a coffee,’ she announced.
The woman looked around the street. There were no cafes anywhere.
Millie pointed. ‘In there.’
The others looked into the machine and were surprised to see cans of hot coffee next to the usual varieties of soft drink.
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ said Ambrosia with a grimace. ‘I’ve never had coffee from a can and I don’t fancy starting now.’
Millie was disappointed.
Ambrosia pulled the map out of her handbag. She looked at the page and then at the street around them. ‘Oh dear.’
‘What’s the matter?’ Alice-Miranda asked.
‘I think we’ve come too far.’ The woman smacked her lips together and looked around for someone they could ask for directions.
Alice-Miranda noticed a boy in a baseball cap walking towards them. ‘Sumimasen,’ Alice-Miranda called out as he drew closer.
The boy had his head down and seemed to ignore her. Jacinta strode over to block his path.
‘Excuse me,’ she said.
The boy had no option but to stop.
‘Do you think you might be able to help us, just quickly?’ She pointed at the map, which her mother passed to her. ‘You see, we’re supposed to be here and we really can’t work out where we are.’
The boy gulped and looked at the girl’s map.
Kiko’s mind was racing. She was almost lost herself, and relying on a simple map Obaasan had scrawled for her. She pulled it out of her pocket and studied it, then looked back at the map the blonde girl was holding.
She pointed to where she thought they were at that moment. Alice-Miranda stepped forward to take a look.
‘Arigatou gozaimasu,’ said the girl with the chocolate curls. ‘Watashi wa Alice-Miranda desu. What’s your name? I’m sorry I don’t know how to ask that in Japanese.’
Kiko glanced up. ‘Yoshi.’
‘That’s a lovely name,’ Alice-Miranda said. She noticed that the boy had a deep scar just under his left eye. Then she realised that he was staring at her neck. ‘Oh, it’s lovely, isn’t it?’ She held the pendant out for him to see. ‘My father bought it for me yesterday from an antique shop in the market.’ Alice-Miranda wondered if any of what she’d just said made sense to the boy.
But Kiko understood perfectly. Her English was almost as good as her Japanese. Her aunt had insisted that she learn and had spent many days speaking nothing else to her.
‘It’s lovely,’ Kiko whispered.
‘Oh, you can speak English,’ Alice-Miranda said gratefully. ‘That’s wonderful. I’m afraid that we’re all pretty hopeless with our Japanese.’
‘Which market?’ the child asked.
‘Sorry?’ Alice-Miranda frowned.
‘Where did your father buy it?’
‘Just near the temple. Daddy thought it would be a lovely memento of our holiday. Millie and Jacinta have different ones.’
Millie held hers forward and so did Jacinta, but Kiko’s eyes did not stray from Alice-Miranda.
Kiko’s mind was racing. Someone had taken her necklace and sold it at the market. It was probably that revolting fat boy, Taro, or his horrible father. She didn’t think Obaasan would have done it – goodness knows she didn’t need the money. But she couldn’t just ask for it back from the girl. That would be risking too much.
‘Are you staying close by?’ Kiko asked.
‘Hai, we’re at the Sadachiyo Ryokan,’ Alice-Miranda replied.
Kiko remembered that was the name of the place next door to Obaasan’s. She had no idea how she was going to get the necklace back but she had to try. ‘Are you in Tokyo for long?’ she asked.
‘We’re staying until the end of the week, then we’re off to a place in the mountains called Tsumago.’ Alice-Miranda gushed.
Kiko nodded. At least she had a few more days to work out what to do. The little girl seemed nice enough. Perhaps if she explained . . . Kiko shook the thought from her mind. If she explained, she would be found and sent home. And that wasn’t going to happen, no matter what.
Ambrosia Headlington-Bear looked at her watch. She’d been studying the map and working out which way to go.
‘Well, thank you. Arigatou,’ Ambrosia told the lad. ‘Come on, girls, we really must get going or we’ll be late.’
‘Sayonara,’ the three girls called and then turned to follow Ambrosia.
Kiko watched as the group disappeared around the corner. She had to have that necklace back. She’d never stolen anything in her life, but surely since it had been hers to begin with, taking it back wouldn’t actually be stealing at all.
Ambrosia and the girls were running late by the time they departed the kimono maker’s studio. The designer had insisted that the girls try on some of the beautiful garments which, unbeknown to them, she was planning to send to the inn as gifts. Ambrosia thought it would be a wonderful surprise.
‘Imagine how many silkworms it took to spin that delicate fabric,’ Alice-Miranda said.
‘Not to mention how long it takes to dye and then create the embroidery. I never realised it was such a complicated process,’ Millie said. ‘It’s awful to think that kimono making is a dying art.’
‘I loved them,’ Jacinta said. ‘But I suppose we wouldn’t really get to wear kimonos at home, unless there was a fancy dress party.’
As they arrived at Dolly’s hotel, Ambrosia paid the fare and Alice-Miranda dashed out of the taxi and into the marble and glass foyer with Millie and Jacinta hot on her heels.
Alice-Miranda scooted towards the concierge desk. ‘Sumimasen. Could you please tell us where the Invention and Innovation conference is taking place?’
The concierge, a young man with kind eyes, smiled and said, ‘Of course. It is in the Chrysanthemum Auditorium on the level below.’
‘Arigatou,’ the three girls called as Ambrosia caught up to them.
The woman glanced at her watch. It was a minute to two and they were meant to be there at least ten minutes ago. ‘Oh dear. I hope they let us in.’
The foursome raced towards the elevator. Alice-Miranda spotted a spiral staircase and decided that would be quicker. They ran down the stairs and across the foyer towards the double doors. Hugh was standing outside looking u
p and down and glancing at his watch. A security man was beside him.
‘Hello Daddy,’ Alice-Miranda called. ‘Sorry we’re late. We couldn’t get away – and it was such fun.’
‘Oh, thank goodness. They were about to close the doors.’
Hugh nodded at the fellow at the entrance, who ushered the group inside. Lawrence and Lucas were sitting in the back row with several empty seats beside them. The room was a large auditorium with tiered seating running down to the stage.
Ambrosia sat beside Lawrence with Jacinta and Millie next, then Alice-Miranda and her father at the end closest to the aisle. They’d just got settled when a tall man walked to the podium.
‘Konnichiwa,’ he said and bowed. ‘Watashi wa Nobu Taguchi desu.’
Jacinta leaned across Millie and whispered to Alice-Miranda, ‘Is this whole thing going to be in Japanese?’
‘I don’t think so. Mrs Oliver’s giving the speech,’ said Alice-Miranda. ‘As far as I know, she doesn’t speak a word.’
‘I would like to introduce our very special guest,’ Mr Taguchi said in English.
‘Oh, thank goodness,’ Jacinta said.
He gave a short introduction about Dolly and her inventions. There was some talk about her lack of formal training and how that hadn’t impeded her excellence and inventiveness, which was now world renowned. Then the man said the most peculiar thing.
‘I have been most impressed by Mrs Oliver’s grasp of the Japanese language. If I didn’t know better I would say that she converses as though it were her mother tongue.’
Alice-Miranda glanced up at her father, who was looking puzzled. ‘What’s he talking about, Daddy? I’ve never heard Mrs Oliver speak Japanese.’
‘No, me neither,’ he replied, shaking his head. ‘That’s a mystery to me.’
‘I welcome Mrs Dolly Oliver.’ The man bowed and Mrs Oliver walked across the stage. Alice-Miranda noticed that her face was red and even her trademark curls weren’t quite as helmet-like as usual.
‘Arigatou,’ Dolly mumbled and looked out at the audience. She placed a black folder onto the lectern and turned the first page. Dolly cleared her throat and began her speech. ‘Your excellency, the Grand Chamberlain, honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen.’ She glanced up and spotted Alice-Miranda in the back row. ‘And boys and girls. It is an honour to be here today to speak to you about the development of JAW – which stands for Just Add Water.
‘Before I tell you about the technical aspects of the work, I’d like to say that none of this would have been possible without the support of my employers, Mr Hugh Kennington-Jones and his wife Cecelia Highton-Smith, who not only encourage me to spend my spare time dabbling, but have also built me an extraordinary laboratory in which to do my work. I like to think that’s because Mr Hugh recognised my potential, but perhaps it had more to do with the plumbing issues I was causing upstairs.’
There was a titter of laughter around the room. Hugh grinned and gave Dolly the thumbs up from the back row.
‘Is that true, Daddy?’ Alice-Miranda whispered.
‘You’d better believe it, darling. I once came downstairs to find Dolly covered in some goopy substance that was bubbling out of the kitchen drains and all over the floor.’
The audience sat enthralled by Dolly’s tales, although when she started to discuss the more technical elements, Jacinta began to yawn. Millie commenced a silent game of ‘Who threw the devon?’, in which she counted the number of men in the room sporting a large round bald spot on the back of their head.
‘It has been a pleasure to be here and I thank the Ministry for their very kind invitation to speak,’ Dolly finished. She stepped back from the podium and bowed.
There was an eruption of enthusiastic applause as Nobu took to the stage and asked the audience to once again thank Mrs Oliver for her incredible work. Dolly fiddled with the folder and began to walk towards the steps.
‘Not so quickly, Mrs Oliver. Please do not run away. Would you mind if we took some questions from the floor?’ Nobu asked.
Dolly’s lips formed a thin line.
‘Of course, if you would like to ask her in Japanese, I’m sure that will be fine too,’ the man said.
Dolly gulped. Small beads of perspiration appeared on her temples and a red rash crept up her neck.
Alice-Miranda leaned over to her father. ‘Daddy, is Mrs Oliver all right?’
‘I’m not sure, darling,’ Hugh replied.
A sea of hands shot up around the room.
‘May I have a glass of water?’ Dolly asked her host. She tugged at the collar on her blazer and wiped her brow.
‘Mrs Oliver?’ The man walked over and spoke quietly to her, then turned around and addressed the audience. ‘I’m afraid that Mrs Oliver is not feeling well, so if you could save your questions, we will ask her to join our final panel for the day. Of course, she will be with us for the rest of the conference too, so there will be many opportunities to chat with her.’
‘Thank you,’ Dolly mouthed. She disappeared off the side of the stage.
‘We will now break for afternoon tea. If I could ask you to stand while our official visitors leave first, then please join us in the upstairs foyer,’ the man directed.
A tall, particularly handsome Japanese man led the way, followed by two men in black suits.
He smiled and nodded at the delegates as he walked up the stairs towards the back of the auditorium. As he neared the top, he stopped.
‘Hugh?’ The man looked at Hugh Kennington-Jones and smiled widely.
‘Kenzo?’ Hugh frowned.
‘My goodness, I heard your name mentioned by Mrs Oliver but I had no idea that you would be here,’ the man replied. ‘Please, would you be my guest for afternoon tea?’
‘Oh, I’m afraid it’s not just me.’ Hugh motioned towards Alice-Miranda and the girls, Ambrosia, Lucas and Lawrence. ‘I brought along a cheer squad.’
Kenzo nodded at the group. ‘There will be an abundance of food.’
‘Well, as long we won’t be stopping you from mingling with the delegates?’ said Hugh.
Kenzo shook his head. ‘No. I have a private room. It will be very dull on my own. Please, come with me.’
Hugh grinned. ‘We’d be honoured.’
Kiko couldn’t stop thinking about the children she’d met on her way to the market. That pendant around the little girl’s neck had to be hers. The girl couldn’t know that it had been stolen and Kiko couldn’t alert anyone to the fact either. But one way or another she had to get it back.
When she’d returned from the store, Obaasan had been busy on the telephone in the kitchen. A little while later the doorbell rang and Kiko was sent to let in an old woman who had arrived in a taxi. She had grey hair and brown eyes, and carried only a small suitcase. Obaasan guided her away upstairs before Kiko could learn the woman’s name or how long she was planning to stay.
Now Kiko was doing some more washing in the basement laundry. Obaasan’s shrill voice screamed her name, so Kiko raced upstairs.
‘What is it?’ she panted.
Obaasan was standing in the kitchen leaning against the sink and clenching her fists. ‘We have another one.’
‘Another one?’ Kiko asked cautiously.
‘He told me he was planning to go soon, but I didn’t think he meant today.’
Kiko gasped. She hoped Obaasan didn’t mean the Ojiisan at the end of the hallway.
‘Who is it?’ Kiko asked.
‘The grumpy old curmudgeon who sat at the end of the table. But you know, I liked him. He made me laugh and he didn’t smell so bad either.’ Obaasan sighed. ‘He could have waited until tomorrow. One a month is enough for me and now we have two in a day.’
‘Does his family know?’ asked Kiko.
Obaasan shook her head. ‘He has no family. That’s why he came here and I looked after him so well.’
‘You are a good friend,’ the child said quietly.
‘Do you think so?’
&nbs
p; Kiko wondered if she was going to have to pack away the man’s things and clean the room, just as she had earlier.
Obaasan looked at the clock on the wall.
‘Yoshi, go and make tea for Ojiisan in the room at the end of the hall,’ Obaasan instructed. ‘I will make some phone calls.’
The child did as she was told. She much preferred to make tea over cleaning another dead person’s room.
A few minutes later she carried the tea tray carefully upstairs and knocked at the door. She called out but there was no answer. Kiko put the tray down and slid open the door, then took the tray to the table. As usual, he was in the chair facing the window, but now his eyes were closed. Kiko’s heart thumped. She’d heard once that bad things happened in threes.
‘Ojiisan,’ she whispered. ‘Would you like me to pour your tea?’
He didn’t move. Kiko leaned in closer.
‘Ojiisan,’ she said a little louder.
He snorted and sat upright. Kiko leapt into the air.
‘What? What is it?’ he demanded.
‘Sorry, Ojiisan. I just had to check.’
‘Check what? That I was breathing?’ He peered at the girl.
Kiko didn’t reply.
‘You can let that silly old woman know that there is life in me yet.’
Kiko nodded. She picked up the teapot and began to pour exactly the same way she had done the day before.
The old man studied her. ‘Why does Obaasan think you are a boy?’
Kiko froze. ‘I am a boy,’ she whispered.
‘Then I am a teenager,’ the old man replied, raising his fuzzy eyebrows.
Kiko’s head spun and she reached out to steady herself.
‘Don’t worry. I won’t tell the old witch. You must have your reasons. We all have our reasons for being here and it is none of her worry as long as you do your work.’
Kiko exhaled. ‘How did you know?’ she asked.
‘You have slender hands. They remind me of my daughter,’ he said. ‘And you don’t pour tea like any boy I have ever seen.’
Kiko inspected her fingers. It was true – they were long. She had taught herself to play the koto and had begged her aunt for lessons, but they were not forthcoming. Hatsuko did not like music.
Alice-Miranda in Japan 9 Page 10
