فصل 08

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فصل 08

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  • زمان مطالعه 5 دقیقه
  • سطح خیلی ساده

دانلود اپلیکیشن «زیبوک»

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Chapter eight

Waiting

Ikuko and Hiroshi walked slowly together beneath the cherry trees in the park at Ome. The trees had finished flowering and it was already summer. Ikuko had been back a month, but she and Hiroshi were still careful with each other. She knew she had hurt him badly and that he wasn’t sure what to do. Ikuko hadn’t talked about her feelings for Bernard, and Hiroshi hadn’t asked her any questions.

‘Would you like to stop here?’ asked Hiroshi. There was an empty seat under a tree. The Sunday afternoon crowds filled the park. Next to them, a young couple sat with their baby. She saw Hiroshi watching the baby, his hair falling over his eyes as usual. He would be such a good father, she thought. And she couldn’t expect him to wait for her until she decided on her own feelings.

She wasn’t even sure how she felt any more. She still couldn’t forget Bernard. She had almost stopped expecting to hear from him, but part of her couldn’t stop hoping. She had left her address at the hostel, and every morning she waited for the post to arrive. But there was no letter from England or from Zambia.

The next morning Ikuko lay in bed trying to make herself get up. ‘But what for?’ she thought. She had nothing to do that day. Except look for a job - and she knew she wouldn’t do that.

She went and made herself a cup of coffee and sat drinking it. Then the post arrived. One letter. A letter in an airmail envelope. With Zambian stamps. A letter addressed to her in Birmingham and readdressed to Japan.

She sat and looked at the envelope, turning it over and over. She wondered what she expected to find inside. She opened it and started to read.

Dear Ikuko

I’ve just received a letter from you although I don’t think it was your first letter. It took a long time to arrive. They had sent it to the wrong school, and no-one sent it on. And the fax at school is broken. We’re waiting for a new part but it hasn’t come yet. They say it should arrive by the end of the month, then you can fax me.

I’ve written to you many times, but I don’t think you’ve received my letters either. I gave the letters to a driver to post in Lusaka so that they’d get to you more quickly. But maybe he didn’t post them. So now I’ll post my letters from Mungwi.

It is a good thing I came back. The children were staying with my parents, but my mother was very ill and two weeks after I came back she died. It has been a very sad time for all of us. Now I can’t leave the children. I can’t come back to England. My wife has met someone else and she wants to divorce me. But it will take time.

Ikuko, I left in such a hurry. Maybe now you’re tired of waiting for me. Soon you’ll be going back to Japan. Maybe it would be better for you to forget about me. Maybe it’s better for you to marry someone from your own country, instead of being with a man who can’t marry you yet, who lives such a different life.

But I’m missing you very much. I can’t leave Zambia - but can you come here? I don’t know if this life would ever be possible for you, but when I sit with the children in the evening, I wish you were here with us. Please, if you still want to see me, if there’s any chance, try to come to Zambia. Please come. I’ll be here.

Love from

Bernard

She looked at the date at the top of the letter: 10 May. The day she’d left England. It was nearly three months since she’d seen Bernard.

She found a sheet of paper and started to write a fax.

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