Page 13 of Behind the Painting
I sensed an almost regal authority in her voice, and I had not the courage to suggest otherwise. Having spoken, Mom Ratchawong Kirati wasted no time in getting down to packing things back into her bag. I stood for a moment with my arms folded, watching her absorbed in packing up, until she urged me a second time, whereupon I began to help her. On the way back, she chatted away quite normally about one thing and another, as if the most significant event in our lives had not taken place on that mountain.
11
When we got off the train at Shinjuku, the streets were already lit up.
‘Nopporn, you’re looking gloomy,’ Mom Ratchawong Kirati warned me in the cab on the way back to the house. ‘You must be careful how you act when we get home. And don’t show any sign of alarm in front of Chao Khun. We’re a bit late getting back. If you start behaving differently, he might begin to think.’
‘Think what?’ I asked, slightly disconcerted.
‘I can’t guess what he might think, but it’s better if we don’t do anything out of the ordinary to make him think.’
I said I would try. When the cab pulled up in front of the house, Mom Ratchawong Kirati stepped out lightly. My heart was pounding.
‘Are you ready, Nopporn?’ she asked me softly.
I nodded and smiled in an attempt to convince her that I was not the sort to panic. The maid informed us that Chao Khun had not yet returned from his party. I heaved a deep sigh of relief. At that point I really did cease to panic.
That night I left Mom Ratchawong Kirati at nine o’clock. I did not go straight home, for there was nothing for me to return for. I would not have been able to concentrate on my books and, even if I had tried to force myself to go to sleep, I would not have been able to, for my mind was ablaze with differentthoughts and emotions. There was no point in going home. After leaving Mom Ratchawong Kirati’s house, I took a cab back into town. Tokyo was all lit up. I got out in front of Veno Park and wandered around its large and beautiful gardens. I walked along, oblivious to my surroundings and other walkers. It was just that there was a path there, so I followed it, preoccupied by my thoughts. When I began to feel tired, I went and sat by the edge of the lake. Exhausted by the day’s outing, I lay back and stretched out, trying to recall what I had done to Mom Ratchawong Kirati that afternoon on Mount Mitake. I had held her close, kissed her passionately and told her how much I loved her. Had I really gone that far? Had I really dared to tell Mom Ratchawong Kirati, the wife of Chao Khun Atthikanbodi, for whom I had the greatest respect, that I loved her, and kissed her, too? I had indeed. It was true.
Whether I was happy or sad at what I had done, burdened or relieved, I could not say for sure. Even so, I wanted to know. One thing I was certain of was that I loved Mom Ratchawong Kirati with all my heart, loved her utterly and completely.
I tried asking myself whether I needed Mom Ratchawong Kirati or not. Without her, I felt that I would be so lonely and miss her so much. Could you call this not needing her? Yet I had no right whatsoever to claim I needed her when she already belonged to someone else. In which case, was I going to snatch her away? I had no such intention. I was still in the middle of my studies, and on top of that, Chao Khun was someone I respected. Besides, I was not so bold as to presume that Mom Ratchawong Kirati would ruin her reputation for the sake of my love, or even what might be for the sake of her own love. So I could not really say whether I was happy that I had expressed my love openly to Mom Ratchawong Kirati. My mind was filled with confusion. In the end I came to the conclusion that it was not appropriate to preoccupy myself with so many problems in aquiet, peaceful place such as this. I left Veno Park and took a cab. Along the streets, still teeming with crowds, we drove, past one road and out into another, with no clear destination in mind. Eventually I got the cab to drop me off at a coffee house, a reasonable one that was not too low class.
In truth, I was not very familiar with such places. On occasions I had brought other people to this one. The reason I was bold enough to go in alone that day was because I needed a change and a bit of relaxation as a diversion from all the problems on my mind. As I went up the steps, a pretty young girl came out to greet me. I was surprised when she said she recognized me, even though I had hardly ever visited the premises. She explained that the reason she recognized me so readily was because I spoke her language better than any other Thais who went there. Besides, she told me, she clearly remembered my polite manners as well as my language. I thanked her.
About five minutes into my first glass of beer, I began to feel less burdened and more cheerful as I chatted and joked with the girl in the usual way, while she sat waiting upon me, pouring my beer and lighting my cigarette. My mind had turned to happier thoughts. The sensations I had experienced when I embraced Mom Ratchawong Kirati and kissed her passionately returned to me once more. I sipped my beer as I recalled those moments. Ah, how happy I was, to think that I had won the love, won the heart, of such a charming, intelligent and wonderful woman as Mom Ratchawong Kirati. Such thoughts gave me great pleasure as I chatted and teased the girl waiting on me. A little more than an hour later, I left and walked home in a daze, not, this time, under the weight of countless problems, but from the beer, which had helped to cheer me up.
Once I got home, I did not retire immediately, and it was past one o’clock before I finally went to bed. But one issue dogged me, even after I had closed my eyes: was I correct in thinkingthat I had won Mom Ratchawong Kirati’s love, that I had won her heart? Had Mom Ratchawong Kirati told me as much? I realized then that Mom Ratchawong Kirati had said no such thing. Finally, however, I fell asleep, even though the problem remained partly unresolved.
12
The day we visited Mount Mitake was the beginning of the eighth week. According to their original plans, Chao Khun and Mom Ratchawong Kirati were to leave Tokyo and return to Thailand at some time during that week. But a couple of days later, I learned from Mom Ratchawong Kirati that Chao Khun was happy to extend their stay in Tokyo by a further two weeks. During this period there were two major items on their itinerary. First, Chao Khun and Mom Ratchawong Kirati would spend two or three days at Atami, in order to bathe in the hot springs and see the scenery, for which it is famous throughout Japan. And second, on the journey from Tokyo to Kobe, they would stop over at Osaka for two or three days, to see the progress of one of Japan’s major industrial cities, and, also the Takarazuka Theatre, which was the biggest in Japan.
In the days that remained, I went to see Mom Ratchawong Kirati and Chao Khun just as before. I have to confess, that latterly, when I was with Mom Ratchawong Kirati in the presence of her husband, my conscience was not as clear as it had once been, and I had to make a constant effort not to behave in an unnatural way. The churning feeling in my heart must have been no different from the feelings of a criminal, who, having secretly committed a serious crime, then socializes with morally upright people.
It surprised me very much to see that there was nothing inthe least unusual in Mom Ratchawong Kirati’s demeanour. She remained just as warm to me as before, whether her husband was present or not. The warmth she showed towards me in the presence of Chao Khun, in particular, frequently caused me alarm. However, the fact that she had behaved quite normally towards me for the rest of their stay was a relief to me, that she was still the same Mom Ratchawong Kirati as before, and that she did not hate me after I had caused such a disturbing scene on Mount Mitake. Once or twice, I tried to bring it up, but her response cut me short.
One evening at Atami, Mom Ratchawong Kirati invited me out alone with her for a walk.
‘There are only six days left.’ We were talking about having to part.
‘You keep counting the days then, do you, Nopporn?’
‘I count every hour, every minute, almost every breath.’
‘You’re taking it much too seriously. I warn you, my dear, it might make you ill. You must try to control yourself.’ Her voice was full of kindness, which pierced my heart even more deeply.
‘I don’t want to. I don’t see any reason why I should have to suppress a love which arose spontaneously and purely, a love which is innocent, which is tragic and which deserves pity. I can’t do that to love.’
Mom Ratchawong Kirati sighed. ‘We can’t escape reality, Nopporn.’
‘What reality?’
‘The reality that in six days’ time we must part.’
‘It’s a very cruel reality,’ I said bitterly.
‘That’s why I asked you to try to control your feelings. Please believe me, my dear.’
