There is a moment of quiet. Then, a rustling in the trees as if someone is creeping toward the house. My skin turns cold. I am absolutely still. I tell myself it’s the neighbors’ dog but I know that dogs don’t creep. My mouth is dry. And then I hear it. The unmistakable sound of a camera clicking. The whirr that follows it as the film winds on for the next shot. I look around for Teiji but see only trees and bushes. I listen for his footsteps but now the clicking seems to be echoing quietly around the park, in every direction, and I don’t know which way to turn. I put out my hand and feel the rain, small hard drops of water landing one by one on my skin and on the leaves and the balcony railing. Potsu potsu it falls, then becomes heavier, like beads of ice. I turn to enter the house, but I know Teiji’s waiting out here for me and I hope that the warmth of the home and of my close friends will be enough to keep me safely indoors. I hope with all my heart it will, and yet—
It is going to be difficult.
About the Author
SUSANNA JONES grew up in Yorkshire. Her interest in Japan began at London University, where, as part of her drama degree, she studied Japanese Noh theater. This interest took her to Japan, where she lived and worked as a teacher and radio script editor. She received an M.A. in writing from Manchester University and currently lives in Brighton, where she is at work on her second novel.
Photograph by jerry Bauer
The Earthquake Bird
WINNER OF THE MAIL ON SUNDAY/JOHN LLEWELLYN RHYS PRIZE FOR BEST NOVEL OF THE YEAR AND WINNER OF GREAT BRITAIN’S JOHN CREASEY AWARD FOR FIRST NOVEL
“Lily is there in the shadows of the cell’s corners, in the buzzing of the light over my head, the fruit fly at the corner of my vision that may just be a speck in my eye. When I lean forward my hair flops over my left temple and then I know Lily is inside my face. Sometimes I feel I am walking not quite like my self—my steps shorter, quicker, a scuttle, almost—and so I know she’s got into my legs too.”
The place is Tokyo. Alone and alienated, two expatriate English women seductively and dangerously compete for the affection of a secretive Japanese photographer. It is a simmering triangle primed to erupt—into a violent death, a baffling disappearance and a startling, unforgettable descent into the heart of a killer.
The Earthquake Bird Page 16
