Alice-Miranda in Japan 9 Read online

  The men nodded.

  ‘So, today you will track her every movement on this screen and make note of the places that she goes,’ said Hatsuko. ‘And I don’t need to remind you what will happen if you fail a second time.’

  They gulped and chorused, ‘No.’

  Hatsuko stood and stalked out of the room. She climbed the narrow stairwell to the ground floor and locked the small door behind her. A man’s voice startled her. ‘Good morning, Hatsuko. What are you doing down here?’

  Hatsuko swivelled around and bowed at Kenzo. Her mind raced. She’d never run into him here before. ‘Exercise,’ she replied. ‘It is good to walk the long way around some days. And you?’

  ‘My intentions are far less noble. I’ve come to see if there is any daifuku for my morning tea.’

  ‘There is a telephone to the kitchen,’ she said, ‘and plenty of eager young women to bring the cake to you.’

  ‘Of course, but if I at least have to walk here, I don’t feel quite so guilty about my greedy belly.’

  Hatsuko nodded curtly and bowed. ‘I must go.’ She turned to walk away.

  ‘I think there will be good news today,’ Kenzo said.

  Hatsuko stopped in her tracks. ‘What good news?’ A tingle of excitement surged through her body. She hoped it was the news she had been waiting for.

  ‘Please walk with me and I will explain.’ Kenzo and Hatsuko headed down the long passageway. ‘Tomorrow the motion that will ensure the family’s future will go before the parliament,’ he said, glancing over at her.

  A smile crept onto Hatsuko’s face.

  ‘I see you are pleased.’

  ‘Oh yes, this is perfect,’ she said, nodding. ‘It has been a long time coming.’

  ‘I am so glad that you approve.’ Kenzo smiled.

  ‘This will change everything.’

  ‘It will be a blessing for us all,’ said Kenzo. ‘Kiko should know that her position is secure, but perhaps don’t mention anything to her just yet. Is she feeling better?’

  Hatsuko flinched at the mention of the child. ‘No, she is still poorly. And I must go check on her.’

  Kenzo bowed and Hatsuko hurried along, her heart fit to burst. Soon. She had waited so long and now it seemed that her patience would finally be rewarded.

  After a delicious lunch, Hugh and the girls were set to meet Cecelia and Ambrosia in an area called Harajuku, which was famous for attracting young people who loved fashion and manga cartoons. Ambrosia had been interviewing several of the young fashionistas there and one of the designers had offered to take the children on a tour to see the young men and women dressed in their outrageous costumes. When Ambrosia had called earlier to say she couldn’t make lunch, she’d arranged with Hugh to bring the girls over to meet her and Cecelia. The Meiji Shrine was also close by and Hugh thought they might have time to visit there too.

  ‘I think we’ll pop back to the ryokan and you girls can drop off your shopping first,’ Hugh said as the girls tripped along beside him. ‘Then I’ll order a car.’

  ‘Really, Daddy? A car? That’s not very adventurous,’ said Alice-Miranda.

  ‘What do you suggest?’ Jacinta asked her. ‘A flying saucer?’

  Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘Ha ha. I was thinking that we should try the subway.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not sure about that,’ said Hugh, flinching. ‘I’ve never used it before and none of us speak Japanese.’

  ‘It can’t be that hard, Daddy. I’ve been on the subway in New York and the three of us have been on the Paris Metro, and it’s a great way to get around,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘It helps you see the real city – and you said that’s why we were staying in the ryokan and not a hotel.’

  ‘I’m up for it,’ said Millie.

  ‘Me too,’ Jacinta agreed.

  ‘Looks like I’m outvoted. But I’m going to get some directions from Aki first.’ Hugh pushed open the door to the inn and the girls walked into the front foyer, where they quickly exchanged their shoes for slippers.

  Aki was standing behind the reception desk.

  ‘Konnichiwa,’ she said, bowing.

  ‘Konnichiwa,’ the girls chorused back.

  ‘Why don’t you run along upstairs and put your things away, girls. I’ll see if Aki can help me with a map,’ Hugh suggested.

  The girls waved to the young woman and scurried away down the hall.

  The train pulled into the station and Alice-Miranda’s group alighted. Hugh consulted the map Aki had marked up for him and led the children towards one of the exits. He was looking for Takeshita Street, where they were to meet Cecelia and Ambrosia and their guide.

  ‘Isn’t the station lovely?’ Alice-Miranda turned and pointed at the gabled roof and the little turret on top. A large clock sat above the entrance.

  ‘It looks like something from Tudor times,’ Millie said. ‘Mixed in with modern day.’

  Groups of teenagers dressed like life-sized dolls and superheroes stood in groups talking and posing for photographs around the station entrance. Alice-Miranda stopped to say hello to two girls in rainbow dresses with matching pink hair and sparkling eye make-up. Millie asked if she could take a photograph and the girls nodded enthusiastically. Hugh offered to take the picture, so the girls could get in together. Alice-Miranda, Millie and Jacinta stood between the Japanese girls, who held their fingers out in ‘V’ peace signs.

  ‘Smile,’ Hugh said as he pressed the button.

  ‘Arigatou,’ Alice-Miranda called, as the older girls bowed and walked away. She turned to her friends. ‘They look amazing, don’t they? Oh, look, there’s Mummy!’ She’d spotted her mother and Ambrosia in the crowd ahead.

  Hugh led the girls up the busy street. Ambrosia introduced them to a young woman called Michiko, who was wearing long pink socks and a short dress that looked like a cross between Cinderella’s gown and a school uniform.

  ‘I’ve never seen so much pink,’ Millie whispered. ‘Do you think Barbie lives around here somewhere?’

  Alice-Miranda grinned. It certainly looked that way. She half-expected to see a pink campervan drive around the corner at any minute.

  Michiko explained how the neighbourhood’s association with inventive clothing started. ‘Japanese teenagers are mad for manga. Some began dressing like their favourite characters and it grew from there. Now Harajuku is famous all over the world for the weird and wacky fashions we wear.’

  ‘Does it take long to get ready in the morning?’ Millie asked. She couldn’t think of anything worse than spending hours at a time working out what to wear.

  ‘Quite a long time. Is anyone hungry?’ Michiko asked.

  Millie and Jacinta nodded.

  ‘That’s good, because we have a great crepe restaurant just along here. I thought we would have a snack before I take you to the store.’

  ‘Crepes? In Japan?’ Millie said. ‘I loved the crepes in Paris. I wonder if these are the same – they don’t have any strange sea creatures in them, do they?’

  ‘No.’ Michiko shook her head and smiled. ‘No sea creatures at all. Just chocolate.’

  Millie rubbed her tummy. ‘That sounds good to me!’

  Dolly Oliver had enjoyed a leisurely morning wandering through the bustling streets around her hotel. Shinjuku was a vibrant part of the city, with enormous electronic billboards on every corner and stores selling everything from computers to silk fans and kitsch novelties. It wasn’t often that Dolly was on her own. Even when her employers were away, Shilly was always about and Millie’s grandfather, Ambrose, spent a lot of time with her these days too. She rather wished he’d been able to join her on the trip, but he was in the process of selling up his farm and had to oversee the livestock sale. He had recently bought himself a delightful cottage in Highton Mill on the edge of the Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones estate. He told people that it was so he could be closer to facilities in case of an emergency but everyone knew that it had more to do with Dolly than any doctor.

  Dolly had taken gr
eat delight in speaking to the shopkeepers in Japanese. She’d chatted away easily as she bought gifts, including a pretty wooden kokeshi doll for Alice-Miranda and a silk purse for Shilly. By her calculations the effect of the tablet was due to wear off at any minute. The opening speech for the conference would commence at two o’clock, giving Dolly enough time to take her parcels back to her room.

  In the auditorium foyer, Dolly scanned the growing crowd. She didn’t recognise anyone and she was beginning to feel a little intimidated. A tall Japanese man walked towards her and bowed.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Oliver, it is very pleasing to make your acquaintance,’ the man said. ‘I am Nobu Taguchi from the Japanese Ministry for Invention and Innovation.’

  Dolly smiled at the young man and extended her hand. He was the one who had telephoned her last week. She thought him very handsome. He was tall and muscular, and reminded her a little of Lawrence Ridley.

  As she began to speak, she answered his question in perfect Japanese – except that on this occasion she hadn’t meant to. She wanted to speak to him in English as he had done with her.

  Nobu smiled broadly and complimented her excellent language skills.

  Dolly gulped. Something was wrong. She could think in English but she couldn’t speak it.

  ‘We are blessed to have many participants from around the world – but I must warn you, Mrs Oliver, that not many will be as skilled in the use of the Japanese language as you,’ said Nobu as he guided her towards a group of delegates.

  Dolly undid the buttons on her blazer and fanned herself with the program as Nobu interrupted the huddle and brought one of the men out to meet her. She began to wonder if the air-conditioning was working properly.

  ‘Professor Dimble, may I introduce Mrs Oliver, the inventor of JAW,’ said Nobu. He extended his arm towards a portly gentleman whose eyebrows resembled a pair of fuzzy caterpillars. The man wore a yellow waistcoat with a matching cravat and a pair of round glasses perched on the very tip of his nose.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ The professor looked at Dolly and nodded. From the tone of his voice and the slight curl of his lip, Dolly didn’t think he was especially pleased to meet her.

  She smiled back and bowed slightly, not game to open her mouth.

  ‘Now tell me, Mrs Oliver, – it is Mrs Oliver, not Doctor or Professor, isn’t it?’ he said with a sneer. ‘What on earth possessed you to use baked dinners? That’s a very pedestrian meal, don’t you think?’

  Dolly looked at the man. She pressed her lips together in an awkward smile.

  ‘Mrs Oliver, are you all right?’ Nobu prompted. He thought perhaps the woman was a little hard of hearing.

  ‘Mmm,’ she nodded.

  ‘What’s the matter, Mrs Oliver? Cat got your tongue?’ the professor asked. He wondered if the woman was as stupid as she looked.

  Inside, Dolly was seething. She couldn’t help herself. She launched into a detailed response to the professor’s initial question – except that it was in perfect Japanese. ‘In our family a baked dinner has always been the ultimate comfort food and I could think of no better place to start – of course you do know that we’ve expanded into other meals including curries and stews to better suit the markets we’ve entered.’

  Nobu gave her a quizzical look. Professor Dimble looked as though he had just sucked a very large lemon.

  Dolly asked if her Japanese friend would translate what she had said. Nobu frowned and nodded, then explained to the Professor.

  ‘I see,’ Professor Dimble said with a smirk. ‘I don’t suppose Mrs Oliver could have just told me that herself. Then again, I’d probably feel a little out of my depth here too, with all these real academics.’

  Beads of perspiration began to trickle from Dolly’s temples and she could feel the heat rising in her neck. Professor Dimble was the rudest person she’d met in a very long time. Who did he think he was, questioning her qualifications, making her feel as if she didn’t deserve to be there? She wondered what his contribution to the world of science had been.

  Nobu could see her agitation. ‘Would you like me to get you a glass of water, Mrs Oliver?’

  Dolly politely declined and excused herself, walking at top speed towards the powder room.

  Apart from feeling as though she could strangle Professor Dimble, she was worried about the tablet. She’d never had this problem before. Although she was thinking in English, no matter how hard she tried, it was Japanese that formed on her lips.

  She looked at her watch. In the past, the effects of the tablet had worn off in about four hours. But that was before she fiddled with the formula again last week. She’d taken the tablet at half past seven and it was now almost two. Something had gone terribly wrong and Dolly hadn’t a clue how to fix it. She’d been working on a neutraliser to take in the event of such an emergency, but it was still in the laboratory at home, waiting to be perfected.

  The powder room was a large and extravagant affair with a chaise longue in the corner of the entrance vestibule. She’d just have to sit it out – at least until the delegates entered the auditorium and she could scamper to the lifts and back up to her room.

  In their basement den, Yuki and Yamato hadn’t taken their eyes off the screen for over an hour. They’d stared intently as the pulsing red dot wound through the streets of Asakusa. Then suddenly it had disappeared. They’d stared at the screen as if by willpower alone they could bring the dot back to life.

  ‘Where did it go?’ Yamato groaned. He’d leaned forward, his nose almost touching the monitor.

  Yuki had anxiously phoned the technician who’d set up the display.

  ‘Mmm, I thought this could happen. That tracker has always been faulty,’ the man had said.

  ‘Does Hatsuko know this?’ Yuki asked.

  The man sniffed loudly. ‘No. This technology hasn’t been tested for years and I forgot it was even there. She’d forgotten too until you mentioned the necklace. I fitted it years ago to keep track of the girl and make sure that she was safe. But now we know better . . . I’ll come by when I’m finished with the car.’ And with that he’d hung up, leaving Yuki and Yamato staring at the blank screen.

  The blip had sprung back to life a while later. It was now a long way from Asakusa. The men were surprised to see it heading towards them and wondered if Kiko had changed her mind about running away.

  The two of them were concentrating so intently they didn’t hear Hatsuko enter the room.

  ‘What do you see?’ she demanded, leaning in between them.

  The two men almost leapt through the roof.

  ‘Sumimasen,’ they said as they composed themselves.

  ‘Kiko has travelled this afternoon. She is not far from here,’ said the taller man, Yuki, as he pointed at the dot on the screen.

  He had his other hand on his lap, crossing his fingers that the blip stayed alive while Hatsuko was present.

  ‘I see,’ she said, peering closer. ‘So why hasn’t one of you gone to find her?’

  ‘You told us not to,’ Yuki gulped.

  Hatsuko glared at the men and shook her head. ‘That was when she was miles away. She is too close to home now.’

  Yamato looked at his partner. ‘I will go,’ he said, without moving from his seat.

  ‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ Hatsuko growled.

  Yamato made a dash for the door.

  ‘Remember, I don’t want her back – under any circumstances!’ Hatsuko shouted. She paced to the other side of the room. ‘Especially not now that my destiny is finally within reach,’ she whispered under her breath.

  Yamato cursed the traffic as he turned into the street opposite Harajuku railway station. He parked the car and fed the meter, then whispered harshly into the speaker on his wrist. ‘Where is she now?’

  Yuki stared at the screen. The blip was making its way along the street that Yamato said he was standing on. ‘She should be close to you.’

  Yamato looked around. All he could see were girls dresse
d in wacky costumes that would have looked more at home in Disneyland than on the streets of Tokyo. He scanned the other side of the street. ‘I’m outside the crêperie. Which way?’

  ‘She should be heading towards you from the direction of the station,’ Yuki replied.

  ‘She’s not here. Unless she’s taken to dressing as one of the Harajuku girls – and where would she have got the money for that?’

  He turned around slowly. Among the throng was a group of Western tourists. Three were young girls, who were talking loudly. As they passed by, there was a loud crackle of static and Yamato’s eardrum almost exploded. He leapt into the air and the tallest of the children, a blonde girl, laughed out loud.

  A smaller child with long chocolate curls smiled at Yamato and darted around him.

  ‘Sumimasen,’ she said with a smile.

  Yamato stared at her and Yuki’s voice buzzed in his ear. ‘Are you still outside the crêperie?’

  Yamato rubbed his ear and shouted ‘Yes’ into his sleeve.

  ‘Then she should be right next to you,’ said Yuki. He wished he’d gone instead. Sometimes he wondered how his partner had acquired his position.

  Yamato looked up and down the street. He peered through the shop window at the diners. There was no sign of her. The tracking device must be faulty – perhaps it was giving signals in the wrong locations now too, as well as switching off intermittently.

  ‘She is not here,’ he whispered savagely.

  The girls were delighted by their afternoon tea, with Millie declaring that Japanese crepes were definitely on par with the French. Michiko explained that the next stop on their tour was one of the local shops, where Alice-Miranda and her friends would be given a complete Harajuku makeover.

  Inside the shop, five staff members swooped on the three girls and presented them with various outfits to try.

  ‘While the children are playing dress-ups, I’ve arranged some tea for the adults – through here.’ Michiko pulled aside a green velvet curtain and revealed a perfect little room with a tatami floor.