She looked embarrassed. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.”
He grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her down to kiss her.
“I’m sorry, too,” he whispered.
“You’re forgiven,” she breathed.
Then she stood up, grinning.
“Shower!” she said.
It was only after she’d gone that Sam noticed that one of the legs of his desk was leaning at a peculiar angle. He looked closer: the joint had been forced. He’d have to nail that back into place or risk losing his deposit on the room. Not that he would regret the cost. He smiled as the memory of the breaking desk came back to him; it must have been pretty loud. He threw a glance towards the wall he shared with Paul. Oh, well. He’d have to buy him a beer to make up for the… inconvenience. Maybe a crate of beer. Maybe a whole damn brewery.
Sam was waiting in reception when Tara came out to meet him, her skin still damp from the shower, her short hair standing in spikes.
“Mmm, you smell good,” he said, pulling her towards him, a teasing smile on his face.
She raised her eyebrows. “Thanks, she said, “but I’m still hungry!”
He gave in.
“Okay, where do you want to go?”
At that moment Yoshi came galloping down the stairs.
“Ah, Tara-san, Sam-san!” he chirruped. “You going to eat lunch?”
“Sure,” said Tara, smiling. “You want to join us?”
Sam threw her a puzzled look but she just shrugged.
“Sure thing, Tara-san! I am also meeting Helen-san and Paul-san. Now we can all eat together.”
Sam frowned in annoyance. He knew he wasn’t being fair on Yoshi but he really just wanted to spend the day with Tara. It seemed like they’d waited long enough for this.
Then even the unnaturally unobservant Yoshi realised that Sam and Tara were holding hands. His eyes widened in surprise.
“Ah! You are dating now?”
He looked at Tara, who was smiling broadly.
“Are we?” she said to Sam.
Sam was startled.
“Yes! I mean, if you want to. If you’d like…”
“You’re an idiot, Sam!” she said, punching him lightly on the arm.
“It’s been said before,” he muttered under his breath.
“My sister will be sad to hear this,” said Yoshi, shaking his head in mock sorrow.
“What’s this?” said Tara, raising her eyebrows. “Something you want to tell me about, Mr Patterson? Something about your trip to Hokkaido, maybe?”
Sam flushed red and shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled.
“My sister has big crush on Sam-san,” said Yoshi, grinning happily. “She thinks he is like handsome film star – she tell all her friends.”
“Yoshi!” said Sam, more loudly than he meant to. “Give it a rest, mate!”
Yoshi giggled and Tara looked amused, more at Sam’s embarrassment than anything.
But then Helen came smartly down the steps followed by Paul.
“What’s the joke?” she said.
“Yoshi’s sister has got a crush on Sam,” explained Tara, a wide smile lighting her face.
“Is there any woman who hasn’t?” said Helen archly, staring straight at Tara.
This time it was Tara who blushed.
Paul just rolled his eyes and muttered something about having to buy earplugs.
It was their last day of freedom before they all returned to school the following morning. The air was still humid but there was the slightest hint of Autumn in the leaves on the trees, a faint golden tinge to the green foliage.
They had a leisurely lunch at one of their favourite food bars where Paul regaled them with stories about Bangkok, beer, women (he claimed), beer, elephant rides and more beer. Then Yoshi entertained them with a list of the weird and wonderful things that Sam had been forced to eat by the businessmen they’d met. He laughed like a drain as he described the sake-with-fish drink. Sam’s stomach twisted uncomfortably at the memory and Paul looked at him in amazement, disgust and maybe a little admiration.
Sam got his own back by illustrating Yoshi’s walk with chapped thighs after one particularly long day of bike riding. Paul nearly had an aneurism and Yoshi himself collapsed with laughter.
After the meal they made their way to a nearby park and sat under one of the towering cherry trees, drinking weak beer.
Tara stretched out and laid her head in Sam’s lap. He smiled down at her, stroking her cheek.
“Aw, hell!” said Paul. “Are we going to have to put up with all that now?”
“Don’t be so mean,” said Helen. “I think it’s sweet – young love! Besides, it was driving me
crazy wondering when the two of them were going to get together.”
Sam felt embarrassed but Tara just laughed. “You, me, both! I thought I was going to have to send a written invitation!”
She opened her eyes and squinted up at Sam. He smiled crookedly.
“Yeah, Sam,” said Paul, suddenly. “I thought you’d promised your
other
friend that you were going to live like a monk?”
Tara frowned. “What?”
“Didn’t he tell you?” said Paul, an evil gleam in his eye. “He had a bet with his lesbo friend that he wasn’t going to get any woman-action while he was over here.”
Sam felt like hitting Paul: the guy couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.
“Is that true?” said Tara, sitting up. “A bet?”
Sam frowned. “It wasn’t like that,” he said.
“Then what was it like?” said Tara, sounding annoyed.
Helen threw a warning look at Paul. It was about a minute too late.
“Can we talk about this later?” said Sam, quietly.
“I’d like to talk about it now,” said Tara, “especially as everyone else seems to know what Paul’s going on about.”
Paul gazed at the grass guiltily, unable to meet Helen’s angry stare. Yoshi just looked puzzled.
“It was nothing,” said Sam, shortly.
“Yeah? So why won’t you tell me?” said Tara.
Helen interrupted. “Right, I’m heading back to the hostel. We’ve all got work tomorrow. Paul? Yoshi?”
Paul and Yoshi got up hurriedly and followed Helen, Paul throwing an apologetic look at Sam.
“Well?” said Tara.
Sam ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
“It’s just stupid.”
Tara folded her arms across her chest, waiting. He sighed.
“My friends threw a leaving party for me at a pub in town. Elle, my ex-, turned up unexpectedly and there was a bit of a scene. My friend Julie made some crack about me being hopeless with women. I said I was staying away from them while I was in Japan. She bet me I wouldn’t. That’s everything.”
“That’s it?” said Tara, looking puzzled. “That’s everything?”
“Yes!” said Sam, between clenched teeth.
Suddenly Tara laughed. “Oh, well, okay then. It was just that Paul made it sound so… I don’t know, like
I
was part of the bet or something.”
Sam stared at her, his body relaxing slightly. “No, of course not.”
He studied her face. “You’re… you’re not angry?”
She laughed again. “No, of course not! Actually I think it’s kind of cute.”
He smiled in relief. “Thank God for that. I hate arguments: for a moment there I was having flashbacks.”
Tara lay down again and closed her eyes. “Nah, but I might have to punch Paul later.”
Sam laughed. “Join the queue.”
“But I’m curious,” she said. “What made you change your mind? About me, I mean…”
“I didn’t change my mind about you,” he said.
Tara looked confused.
“I fancied you the first moment I saw you,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “And then I got to know you and I liked you even more, but…”
“But?” she prompted.
“I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to get involved… involved with you when I knew the chances were that in a few months we’d be living on different continents.”
His voice became quieter so she had to strain to hear him. “I knew I’d like you too much,” he whispered.
Tara stared at him, and the strength of her gaze made him look away.
“So why did you change your mind?”
He shrugged. “I couldn’t see the point of trying to stay away from you anymore.”
Then he bent down and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. For a moment Sam forgot where they were, until Tara pulled away, her breathing too fast.
“Let’s go back to the hostel,” she said, huskily.
Oddly enough, Sam didn’t need a written invitation this time.
For the first time in weeks, Sam set the alarm on his watch to make sure he got up in time for work. Or rather, to make sure he and Tara got up in time for work. He’d set it early enough for them to get in a quick swim first, but somehow they never made it to the basement pool.
They even had to run to the subway, ignoring the surprised glances of other commuters.
Sam found it very hard to concentrate on his teaching that first day back. His students were enthusiastic and welcoming: several had brought small gifts from their holidays. Sam wasn’t sure if he was allowed to accept them or not but it seemed natural enough. He thanked them in Japanese and they seemed delighted.
Just after assembly he was accosted by Ms Amori.
“Patterson-san, I trust you had a good holiday?”
“Yes, very good, thank you. Did you go away?”
She shook her head a trifle impatiently, leaving Sam with the feeling that he’d said the wrong thing – again. Maybe subordinates were not supposed to chat with senior staff in a friendly manner. Or maybe she just didn’t like him. It was hard to tell. Although, to be fair, she didn’t seem to like anyone else either.
“We ask all our foreign teachers to present an assembly about an aspect of British society. You will do this, please, toward the end of the semester. In Japanese. Should you need additional help with translation, I will be happy to help you.”
She bowed, her head bobbing in a brief nod, and Sam had no choice but to agree and bow back.
He’d been in Japan long enough to know that the subservient person must make the lowest bow and Amori-san wasn’t the kind of woman you messed about with.
She stalked away, her heels clicking on the wooden floor.
Sam frowned at her back. Assemblies lasted nearly 40 minutes – that was a lot of time to fill. He hoped his Japanese would be up to the task. At least he had a couple of months to work on it.
When he got back to the hostel, he had a couple of hours to kill before Tara would return from teaching her evening class. He threw a jaundiced look at the increasing pile of laundry stuffed under his desk, sighed and pulled it out. Oh well, he’d be able to get in a swim at the same time. He hadn’t managed to get to the pool since he’d got back from Hokkaido.
The washing machines were surprisingly old fashioned. They stood in a solemn row, shabby guardsmen, in an outdoor basement courtyard, protected from the rain by a narrow, sloping roof. Sam had to turn on a tap to allow the machine to fill with water before the washing cycle started. It seemed a rather obsolete technology for such an advanced country.
When the washing was churning away, he made his way to the almost empty pool and started swimming laps. His mind drifted away, thinking, inevitably, about his two nights with Tara. Was it only two nights? It seemed longer.
He was so absorbed that he didn’t notice Paul was sitting watching him.
Paul called his name.
“Sam, buddy!”
A jolt of remembered annoyance ran through him. He swam to the edge of the pool.
“Paul.”
“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday, buddy,” he said, a look of real regret on his face. “I didn’t mean to mess things up for you – and Tara. Sometimes I just open my mouth to change feet.”
Sam shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. She was cool – once I had the chance to explain.”
Paul looked relieved. “Thanks, buddy. Maybe we can go out for a beer later? Or tomorrow? A guys’ night out?”
“I can’t tonight and tomorrow I’ve got evening classes. But Wednesday would be okay?”
“You got it!” said Paul, looking relieved.
But it didn’t quite work out like that. Paul invited Yoshi along, and Yoshi took it upon himself to invite Helen and Tara.
Sam was the last to hear about the change of plan; it was Tara who told him, early on Wednesday evening.
“You weren’t going to invite me?” she said, raising her eyebrows.
Sam smiled crookedly. “Actually, no. Paul said he wanted a ‘guys’ night out. It was Yoshi who put the kybosh on that.”
“Fine!” said Tara, with a small laugh. “I won’t come!”
Sam wrapped his arms around her and ran his fingers down her spine.
“You’re invited,” he whispered into her hair.
Her reply took quite a long time and they were the last ones to make it to the reception.
Helen raised her eyebrows. “We’re all here then. At last.”
Tara stuck out her tongue and Sam just smiled.
They set out into the busy evening, Helen leading the way through a tangle of unnamed streets.
“Malcolm and I found this fabulous little place,” she said. “It’s tiny but the food was to die for. I’m not even sure it was a real restaurant – it was like being in someone’s front room. I hope I can find it again.”
She led through an alleyway that got narrower and narrower, and the sound of the city streets began to fade away.
“How on earth did you find this place?” said Tara.
Helen blushed. “Oh, we were just looking for somewhere quiet. We just, er, stumbled on it.”
Paul threw an incredulous look at Helen. “You guys!”
The alleyway became so narrow that it was barely wider than their shoulders, when a pool of light from a sign advertising Kirin beer illuminated a small door. A cat with four small kittens was sitting in a cardboard box filled with shredded newspapers. It watched them with its lamp-like eyes, then yawned widely when Sam stopped to stroke it.
Helen pushed open the door which led into a tiny room with a short bar that was really just the top of a counter lined with bottles of sake. Three miniature tables were squeezed around the edges of the room – they were the first customers. The owner came rushing down the stairs, apparently delighted to see Helen again. He smiled and bowed and ushered them each to a seat.