Water Lily (20 page)

He started pulling chairs around the table, beckoning everyone in the bar to sit down and hold out their glasses. Runa had
no idea whether or not they understood his English, but most looked baffled. Sam stared at Runa. She tried not to notice and
focused instead on Ralph, smiling sweetly to show Sam—and Ralph—how happy she was. Around her were faces, all packed together
like pieces of sushi in a box. She could no longer make out their expressions.

“I see this boat,” Ralph swished his glass from left to right, “as a symbol of our new life together, our journey into the
unknown waters of our love.” Then he whispered to Runa, “I’m going to write a haiku for you, Nanao, to show you my feelings
in poetry.”

Again she smiled.

Ralph began to talk to Wu and Mei Ling. The alcohol was making him louder and more energetic, whereas Runa was becoming quieter
and more tired.

“Nanao, darling.” He turned to her. “Are you happy?” “Yes. Happy.” She smiled and held it.

“Don’t ever lose your beautiful smile.” He ran a leathery finger over her lips. “It’s such a beautiful smile.”

She kept smiling. She couldn’t think of anything else to do.

“And when we get to England, we will plan so many things together. Me and you, apple. We’ll be a happy couple together in
our nest.”

When they reached Shanghai, when she was away from the prying eyes of the other passengers, she could always try one last
time to contact Ping, somehow.

Sam and Shin were deep in conversation, again. She watched them. Sam glanced at her a couple of times and she knew that they
were discussing her. If only she and the heron could get off the boat now and disappear. But Shin, Sam, the old woman, they’d
be with her all the way to Shanghai. All she had to do was stop the old woman or Sam talking to the heron and telling him
who she was. One way would be to stay with the heron all night and make sure he spoke to no one. But he shared a cabin with
Sam. She could lure the heron from the cabin to sleep with her, but he would think she wanted sex. Alternatively, she could
do something about Sam.

Now it seemed that the ferry was speeding up, bumping up on the waves, sinking forward then up again. Runa wanted to ask the
captain to make it go even faster. She could hear Kawasaki’s voice,
I would wring her neck
, and she knew that he had meant it. Now that she was far from home, she knew that Kawasaki was the letter writer because
there was no other suspect. He had seen her with Jun and was jealous. She remembered returning to her apartment early one
morning, kissing Jun goodbye behind the gym, and two minutes later walking into Kawasaki who was preparing for practice. Only
now did she understand the expression on his face, pure hate disguised as indifference. He had seen, of course he had, but
she had been too carefree to notice. But what now? Sam could stop her going with the heron, or he could let her go and report
back to Kawasaki, which seemed pointless. Would he hurt her? She couldn’t believe that Sam was capable of real harm. She thought
that his irritability was an act. Yet, all that fighting, the blood. Sam and Shin were, as Nanao would say with her head to
one side, a
little … just a little …

Runa got up. The older woman was now sleeping. Runa looked at her face. Was she the woman from the bath? She looked younger
but, from above, it was difficult to tell. Runa hadn’t noticed her here last night. Or perhaps she had and that was why the
woman had seemed familiar in the bath, and she had nothing to do with the school. Runa saw that a couple of other passengers
had entered and gone to bed around her while she was thinking.

If Jun Ikeda were the person she had to marry in order to find an escape, would it be easier? Would it be easy? No, it would
be hard. He was an ordinary schoolboy in a dull navy uniform. He fitted the bill for a while, but now he didn’t seem special,
just terribly young. And that was funny because Jun was the root of the trouble, the beginning of the escape.

She put her hand into her bag. The knife was there. She grasped the cloth and let her fingers close around it. She wouldn’t
know how to stab a person even in self-defense. The thought of pushing a blade through a person’s skin and into their flesh
made her nerves scream. If Sam or Shin at-tacked, though, she would have to look after herself. She could cut their arms.
She would only hurt them seriously if she had to. If they didn’t stop, she’d push the knife in.

She unwrapped it, just enough to feel the blade inside the bag. It was only a small penknife and she didn’t know how sharp
it was. But what
would
it feel like to stab a person? The touch of cold metal snapped her from her reverie like smelling salts. This was madness.
She was tingling all over. She must find Sam.

R
alph was in heaven. The bar, with its booming karaoke and garish lights, was strangely cozy. All those people celebrating
together. Strangers were better than friends. You would think that at such a moment of beauty and triumph, it would be best
to be surrounded by people who knew you, but it wasn’t. Ralph had discovered that the eyes of strangers, when kind and admiring,
were the best of all. You could relax into the gaze, find yourself being all the things you wanted to be. And now he was engaged
to Nanao. The journey back home would be his lap of honor.

The door to the deck was locked. Ralph walked to the other end and tried another. It was open. He pushed it slightly but was
scared to walk through. He guessed they’d locked the other door for the night, for safety, and forgotten this one. The thought
that it might be dangerous made him nervous. Was it safe to go out or not? And then he remembered what he’d pushed to the
back of his mind all evening. Nanao’s name. He would prefer to laugh at himself now for thinking there was anything strange
about it, but he must check. It was the last item on his list of things to do. He found her, wandering near the door to his
room.

“Nanao. Were you looking for me?”

“Oh, no. I was just walking.” She had been checking the numbers on the doors. She must have been searching for him.

“Shall we walk together?”

“I’m not really going anywhere. I’ll probably sleep very soon.”

“I must say, your English is getting much better. Our conversations have had quite an effect.”

“Yes.” She stopped, uncomfortable. Did she look a little guilty?

“Nanao. We’ll be in Shanghai soon. I thought that since we’ll be going to England as soon as we’ve got you a ticket, Shanghai
could be our honeymoon. You can go and say hello to your friend, and then we’ll spend the rest of the time together. I’ve
already arranged a hotel room and everything.”

“All right.”

“So we’ll be doing everything backwards.”

“Backwards?”

He reached forward and stroked her hair.

“And since we’re doing things this way, I thought we could …” he stopped and put his mouth near her ear, breathing softly
through his nose. “I though we might consummate our relationship now.”

His fingers moved down her neck, stroking her hair and her skin. She folded her arms across her chest and stepped back.

“It’s all right. Don’t be afraid.”

“No. I don’t want to.”

“There’s no need to be nervous.” But he was awkward now, and had no idea how to make her do what he wanted without forcing
her. “Come on. We can go to the table-tennis room. It’ll be empty now.”

If he inhaled through his mouth he sounded as if he were hyperventilating, so he continued to breathe in and out through his
nose. To his own ears, the noise was deafening. He tried to breathe silently but it came out louder and then he thought he
would stop breathing altogether. Nanao was silent. Her chest rose and fell evenly, but she made no sound.

“No. I’d like to go to bed.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m tired.”

“There’s no need for us to wait.”

She rubbed the tips of his hair between her fingers, but he couldn’t tell whether the gesture was real or affected. She turned
to move away.

“Nanao. We don’t have to wait.”

“I think we should, until we’re married. It’s just the way I’ve always wanted to do it.”

“Your English really is good now, isn’t it, considering you could hardly speak a word before. Who are you?”

“What?” She was guilty. He could see that in the dark place behind her eyes she was trying to work out how he knew and what
she could do to get out of it.

“What’s your name?” His face was close to hers and a pinprick of his saliva landed on her lip when he spoke. She stepped back,
looking repulsed. For a second he hated her, but he knew he mustn’t be angry yet. He might still want her and couldn’t afford
to spoil things so soon.

“My name is Nanao. I want to go to bed. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

“No. You can’t just change like this.” His face and neck were burning. He could see the redness out of the comers of his eyes
and in contrast Nanao seemed to grow colder and whiter.

“I thought you were—”

“Who? Who did you think I was?” Her eyes that he had found so beautiful before were nothing more than hard little marbles.

“I don’t know. I thought you were the person I thought you were.” He swallowed and blinked back tears. “But you’re not. Why
are you doing this to me?”

“Sleep well,” she said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not going to sleep. I’m going outside.”

She leaned forward to give him a peck on the cheek, but at the same time he went to the same side. Somehow his glasses slipped
sideways so that one arm was way above his ear and the other was touching his chin. The room turned over with them. He fumbled
quickly to put them into place. Nanao was already far down the corridor. She was rocking from side to side as she walked.
He heard a sound from her, a big sigh of relief and a giggle. She was laughing at him. He slumped to the floor.

Sam sat on Ralph’s bunk and congratulated him. His face was a bloodied mess.

“I hope you will be happy together.”

Ralph resented Sam even speaking about Nanao and was determined not to appear grateful.

“Oh yes. I’m sure we will. I’m not worried about it. Are you married yourself?” He spoke with disdain.

“No.”

“Have you not met the right woman, then?”

“My ideal woman,” Sam said, moving closer to Ralph, “is the one you’re going to marry. Never mind.” He patted Ralph’s hand.
“She told me she likes you so that’s all right. I don’t mind.”

Ralph had no idea what to say. He wasn’t going to apologize or wish Sam well. He didn’t need to know that Sam liked Nanao,
though he had suspected that one of the pair was interested in her. He hated having his hand patted.

“She told you she liked me? You were talking about me?”

“Yes. Oh, but don’t worry. I like men, too, and I have my ideal man already. I wouldn’t want to be greedy. Anyway, Shin doesn’t
like it when I look at girls.”

“What?”

“He’s very jealous and loses his temper every now and again. Most of the time I keep him in his place, though. I think he’s
pleased that Nanao’s out of my way. So, congratulations.”

Ralph left the cabin. There were no safe places anymore.

Later he went to Nanao’s room to find her, but her space was empty. On all the other futons, women slept. In the darkness
he saw wisps of hair, pyjama sleeves, soft skin covering bony elbows, curved mounds under white covers. Silent in the doorway,
he could almost smell their sleep. But where was she?

He leaned through the door, knelt down, reached for her bag. He was looking for something, anything with her name on. Perhaps
a letter or an address book. It would have to be written in the Roman alphabet, not in Japanese. A wedding ring, buried at
the bottom, would be a clue. He crawled backward into the corridor. He stood and groped in the bag. There was little inside,
apart from some sweets and cash, but he slipped his fingers into a small zipped compartment and pulled out her passport. There
was a picture of a chrysanthemum on the front. That was the Japanese national flower, so at least she was telling the truth
about her nationality. He flicked through to find her name, but it said Nanao. Nanao Wada. Perhaps he had done her an injustice.
Perhaps she wasn’t lying. He had always been too sensitive, found it hard to trust people, because he had been let down so
often. He’d done it again. He couldn’t resist a glance at her photo, so he held the picture up to the light for a better view.
He was looking at the face of a different woman.

He was too tired to understand this and wanted to be sober, so that he would know what to do. He leaned into the room and
threw down the bag. Something glinted from the folds of her bed covers. He put out one hand and recoiled as his skin ripped
open. His jaws snapped shut with pain, and he kept his teeth clenched so that he wouldn’t shout out. The sleepers were beginning
to stir as he backed out of the room and ran away. The bitch had a knife. He stumbled down the corridor sucking the skin between
his index finger and his thumb. What the hell was she doing with a penknife lying open on her bed?

T
he ferry had become a swollen, tender object. She thought that if you touched it from the outside, it would scream.

There were few people around. The bar seemed to be closing and the last few drinkers were heading for their cabins. Once she
had shaken off the heron, Runa kept walking, turned corners in the corridors. She didn’t want to see him again tonight. First
she had to confront Sam, find out who he was and what he knew. She returned to that part of the ferry, looked at all the cabin
doors but couldn’t remember which belonged to Sam and the heron. And she’d forgotten to bring her knife. She laughed at herself
for having screwed up her own plan. She listened at three or four doors to faint snoring, gentle creaking. You couldn’t hurt
any of them, not while they were asleep.

She would go to the bathroom where she had talked to the old woman about Ping. The bath would have been emptied for the night
or would, at least, be cold, but it was where she wanted to be. If she imagined a room filled with scorching steam, perhaps
that was what she would find.