“Why should I get married? What's the point of that?”
“You plan to just go on—living in London, do you?"
“Well, why, should I get married? That’s so stupid, Mother.” She rolled up the calendar and packed it away. “so many women just get brainwashed. They think all there is to life is getting married and having a load of kids.”
I continued to watch her. Then I said: “But in the end Niki there isn’t very much else.”
“God, Mother, there’s plenty of things I could do. I don’t want to just get stuck away somewhere with a husband and a load of screaming kids. Why are you going on about it suddenly anyway?" The lid of her suitcase would not shut. She pushed down at it impatiently.
“I was only wondering what your plans were, Niki,” I said, with a laugh. “There’s no need to get so cross. Of course, you must do what you choose.”
She opened the lid again and adjusted some of the contents.
“Now, Niki, there’s no need to get so cross.”
This time, she managed to close the lid. “God knows why I brought so much,” she muttered to herself.
“What do you say to people, Mother?” Niki asked. “What do you say when they ask where l am?”
My daughter had decided she need not leave until after lunch and we had come out walking through the orchard behind the house. The sun was still out, but the air was chilly. I gave her a puzzled look.
“I just tell them you’re living in London, Niki. Isn’t that the truth?”
“I suppose so. But don’t they ask what I’m doing? Like that old Mrs. Waters the other day?”
“Yes, sometimes they ask. I tell them you’re living with your friends. Really, Niki, I had no idea you were so concerned about what people thought of you.”
“I’m not.”
We continued to walk slowly. In many places, the ground had become marshy. “I suppose you don’t like it very much, do you, Mother?”
“Like what, Niki?”
“The way things are with me. You don’t like me living away. With David and all that.”
We had come to the end of the orchard. Niki stepped out on to a small winding lane and crossed to the other side, towards the wooden gates of a field. I followed her. The grass field was large and rose gradually as it spread away from us. AL its crest, we could see two thin sycamore trees against the sky.
“I’m not ashamed of you Niki,” I said. “You must live as—you think best”
My daughter was gazing at the field. “They used to have horses here, didn’t they?” she said, potting her arms upon to the gate. I looked, but there were no horses to be seen.
“You know, it’s strange,” I said. “I remember when I first married, there was a lot of argument because my husband didn’t want to live with his father. You see, in those days that was still quite expected in Japan. There was a lot of argument about that.”
“I bet you were relieved,” Niki said, not taking her eyes from the field.
“Relieved? About what?”
“About not having to live with his father.”
“On the contrary, Niki. I would have been happy if he’d lived with us. Besides, he was a widower. It’s not a bad thing at all, the old Japanese way.”
“Obviously, you’d say that now, I bet that’s not what you thought at the time though.”
“But Niki, you really don’t understand. I was very fond of my father-in-law.” I looked at her for a moment, then finally gave a laugh. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I was relieved he didn’t come to live with us. I don’t remember flow.” I reached forward and touched the top of the wooden gate. A Little moisture came away on my fingers. I realized Niki was watching me and I held up my hand to show her.
“There’s still some frost," I said.
”Do you still think about Japan a lot, Mother?"
“I suppose” I turned back to the field. “I have a few memories”
Two ponies had appeared near the sycamore trees. Fat a moment they stood quite still, in the sunshine, side by side.
“That calendar I gave you this morning,” I said. “That’s a view of the harbour in Nagasaki. This morning I was remembering the time we went there once, on a day-trip. Those hills over the harbour are very beautiful.”
The ponies moved slowly behind the trees.
“What was so special about it?” said Niki.
“Special?”
“About the day you spent at the harbour.”
“Oh, there was nothing special about it. I was just remembering it, that’s all. Keiko was happy that day. We rode on the cable-cars.’ I gave a laugh and turned to Niki. “No, there was nothing special about it. It’s just a happy memory, that’s all.”
My daughter gave a sigh. “Everything’s so quiet out here,” she said. “I don’t remember things being this quiet.”
“Yes, it must seem quiet after London.”
“I suppose it gets a bit boring sometimes, out here on your own."
“But I enjoy the quiet, Niki. I always think it’s so truly like England out here.”
I turned away from the field, and for a moment looked back towards the orchard behind us.
“All those trees weren’t here when we first came,” I said, eventually. “It was all fields, and you could see the house froth here. When your father first brought me down here, Niki, I remember thinking how so truly like England everything looked. All these fields, and the house too. It was lust the way I always imagined England would be and I was so pleased.”
Niki took a deep breath and moved away from the gate. “Wed better be getting back,” she said. “I’ll have to be going fairly soon".
As we walked back through the orchard, the sky seemed to cloud over.
“I was just thinking the other day,” I said, “perhaps I should sell the house now.”
“Sell it?”
“Yes. Move somewhere smaller perhaps. It’s just an s idea.”
“You want to sell the house?” My daughter gave me a concerned Jock. “But it’s a really nice house.”
“But it’s so large now.”
“But it’s a really nice house, Mother. It’d be a shame.”
“I suppose so. It was just an idea, Niki, that’s all.” I would like to have seen her to the railway station—it is only a few minutes’ walk—but the idea seemed to embarrass her. She left shortly after lunch with an oddly self conscious air, as if she were leaving without my approval.
The afternoon had turned grey and windy, and I stood in the doorway as she walked down to the end of the drive. She was dressed in the same tight-fitting clothes she had arrived in, and her suitcase made her drag her step a little.
When she reached the gate, Niki glanced back and seemed surprised to find me still standing at the door. I smiled and waved to her.
The End
Kazuo Ishiguro, A Pale View of Hills
(Series: # )
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