Chapter Twenty-two

When We Were Orphans  Author:Kazuo Ishiguro

Had I not been expecting to see him, it is perfectly possible I would have failed to recognise Uncle Philip. He had put on weight over the years, so that though he was not stout, his neck had thickened and his cheeks were sagging. His hair was wispy and white. But his eyes were calm and humorous in much the way I remembered.

I did not smile as I came towards him; nor did I go behind the desk to the chair he had offered. ‘I'll sit here.’ I said, stopping beside the other chair.

Uncle Philip shrugged. ‘Well, it's not my desk anyway. In fact, I've never set foot in this house before. Something to do with you, this place?’

‘I've never been here before either. May I suggest we sit down?’

When we did so, we could see each other clearly for the first time in the light from the desk lamp, and we spent a moment carefully studying one another's features.

‘You haven't changed so much, you know, Puffin,’ he said. ‘Easy to see the boy in you, even now.’

‘I'd appreciate you not calling me by that name.’

‘Sorry. Rather cheeky, I admit. So here we are, you managed to track me down. I kept refusing to meet you before. But in the end, I suppose I began to want to see you again. Owe you an explanation or two, I expect. But I wasn't sure, you see, how you regarded me. Friend or foe, that sort of thing. But then these days I'm not sure about most people on that score. Do you know, they told me to keep this with me just in case?’ He produced a little silver pistol and held it up to the light. ‘Can you believe it? They thought you might wish to attack me.’

‘But I see you brought it along just the same.’

‘Oh, but I carry it everywhere. So many people wanting to do me mischief these days. I didn't really bring it on your account. One of those men standing out there. Perhaps he's been bribed to burst in here and stab me. Who can tell? That's the way it's been for me, I'm afraid. Ever since this Yellow Snake lark started.’

‘Yes. It would seem you're much given to treachery.’

‘That's a bit harsh, if you're implying what I think you're implying. As far as the communists are concerned, very well, yes, I've turned traitor. Even there, it was never my intention, you know. Chiang's men got hold of me one day and threatened to torture me. I admit, I didn't fancy that much, didn't fancy it one bit. But in the end, they did a far cleverer thing. They tricked me into betraying one of my number. And then, you see, that was that. Because as you've seen, no one punishes turncoats more savagely than my old comrades. There was no other way for me to stay alive. I had to depend on the government to protect me from my comrades.’

‘According to my investigations,’ I said, ‘a lot of people have lost their lives through you. And not just those you betrayed. There was a time, a year ago, when you allowed the communists to believe the Yellow Snake was another man. Many of his family members, including three children, were killed in the first wave of reprisals.’

‘I don't consider myself admirable. I'm a coward, and I've known it a long time. But I can hardly be held to account for the Reds’ savagery. They've proved themselves every bit as vicious as Chiang Kai-shek ever was, and I've no respect left for them. But look here, I don't expect you came to talk about all this.’

‘No, I didn't.’

‘So, Puffin. I'm sorry. Christopher. So. What shall I tell you? Where shall we begin?’

‘My parents. Where are they?’

‘Your father I'm afraid is dead. Has been for many years. I'm sorry.’

I said nothing and waited. Eventually he said:

‘Tell me, Christopher. What do you believe happened to your father?’

‘Is it any business of yours what I believe? I came here to hear it from you.’

‘Very well. But I was curious to know what you'd worked out for yourself. After all, you've made quite a name for yourself for such things.’

This irritated me, but it occurred to me he would be forthcoming only on his own terms. So in the end, I said: ‘My conjecture has been that my father made a stand, a courageous stand, against his own employers concerning the profits from the opium trade of those years. In doing so, I supposed he set himself against enormous interests, and was thus removed.’

Uncle Philip nodded. ‘I'd supposed you believed something like that. Your mother and I discussed carefully what to have you believe. And it was more or less what you've just said. So we were successful. The truth, I'm afraid, Puffin, was much more prosaic. Your father ran off one day with his mistress. He lived with her in Hong Kong for a year, a woman called Elizabeth Cornwallis. But Hong Kong is awfully stuffy and British, you know. They were a scandal, and in the end they had to rush off to Malacca or some such place. Then he got typhoid and died, in Singapore. That was two years after he left you. I'm sorry, old fellow, it's hard to hear all this, I know. But brace yourself. Because I've a lot more to tell you before the evening's out.’

‘You say my mother knew? At the time?’

‘Yes. Not at first, mind you. Not for a good month or so. Your father covered his tracks rather well. Your mother only found out because he wrote to her. She and I were the only ones who ever knew the truth.’

‘But the detectives. How on earth did the detectives fail to discover what he'd done?’

‘The detectives?’ Uncle Philip let out a laugh. ‘Those underpaid, overworked flat-feet? They wouldn't have found an elephant gone missing in Nanking Road.’ Then when I remained silent, he said: ‘She would have told you eventually. But we wanted to protect you. That's why we had you believe what you did.’

I had started to feel uncomfortable sitting so close to the desk lamp, but the upright chair did not allow me to sit back. Then after I had maintained my silence another few moments, Uncle Philip said:

‘Let me be fair to your father. It was difficult for him. He always loved your mother, loved her intensely. I'm jolly sure he never stopped loving her right to the end. In some ways, Puffin, that was the trouble. He loved her too much, idealised her. And it was just too much for him, trying to come up to what he saw as her mark. He tried. Oh yes, he tried, and it nearly broke him. He might have just said: “Look here, I can only do so much and that's it, I'm who I am.” But he adored her. Wanted desperately to make himself good enough for her, and when he found he didn't have it in him, well, he went off. With someone who didn't mind him as he was. It's my belief he just wanted rest. He'd tried so hard for so many years, he just wanted rest. Don't think so badly of him, Puffin. I don't believe he ever stopped loving you or your mother.’

‘And my mother? What has become of her?’

Uncle Philip leant forward on his elbows and tilted back his head slightly. ‘How much do you know already about her?’ he asked.

The lightness he had earlier contrived to place in his voice had evaporated altogether. He now looked a haunted old man, consumed with self-hatred. He was gazing at me carefully despite his tilted head, and the yellow light from the desk lamp showed white whiskers growing out of his nostrils. From somewhere downstairs, I could hear a phonograph playing Chinese martial music.

‘I'm not trying to annoy you,’ he said, when I did not answer. ‘I don't want to hear myself talking any more about it than I have to. Come on. How much have you found out?’

‘I was until recently under the impression both my parents were being held captive in Chapei. So you see, I have not been so clever.’

I waited for him to speak. He remained in his curious posture for a time, then sat back and said:

‘You won't remember this. But shortly after your father went away, I came to your house to see your mother. And a certain man came also that day. A Chinese gentleman.’

‘You're referring to the warlord, Wang Ku.’

‘Ah. Then you haven't been so foolish.’

‘I found out his name. But thereafter, I suspect I've been too busy following a false trail.’

He gave a sigh and cocked his ear. ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘Kuomintang anthems. They play them to tease me. Wherever they take me, it's like this. Happens too often to be a coincidence.’ Then when I said nothing, he rose to his feet and wandered into the shadows towards the heavy curtains.

‘Your mother,’ he said eventually, ‘was devoted to our campaign. To stop the opium trade into China. Many European companies, including your father's, were making vast profits importing Indian opium into China and turning millions of Chinese into helpless addicts. In those days, I was one of those central to the campaign. For a long time, our strategy was rather naive. We thought we could shame these companies into giving up their opium profits. We wrote letters, presented them with evidence showing the damage opium was causing to the Chinese people. Yes, you may laugh, we were very naive. But you see, we thought we were dealing with fellow-Christians. Well, eventually we saw we were getting nowhere. We discovered that these people, they not only liked the profits very much, they actually wanted the Chinese to be useless. They liked them to be in chaos, drug-addicted, unable to govern themselves properly. That way, the country could be run virtually like a colony, but with none of the usual obligations. So we changed our tactics. We grew more sophisticated. In those days, just as they do still, the opium shipments came along the Yangtze. Boats had to bring them upriver through bandit country. Without adequate protection, the shipments wouldn't get much beyond the Yangtze gorges without being marauded. So all these companies, Morganbrook and Byatt, Jardine Matheson, all of them, they used to make deals with the local warlords through whose territories the shipments passed. These warlords were just glorified bandits really, but they had armies, they had the power to see the shipments through. So here was our new strategy. No longer did we plead with the trading companies. We pleaded with the warlords. Appealed to their racial pride. We pointed out it was in their hands to end the profitability of the opium trade, to reverse the one major obstacle to the Chinese taking command of their own fate, their own land. Of course, some were too keen on the payments they received. But we had some converts. Wang Ku was at that time one of the more powerful of these bandit lords. His territory covered several hundred square miles in the north of Hunan. A pretty brutal chap, but sufficiently feared and respected to make him valuable indeed to the trading companies. Now Wang Ku became very sympathetic to our cause. He often came to Shanghai, liked the high life here, and we were able to prevail on him during these visits. Puffin, are you well?’

‘Yes, I'm fine. I'm listening.’

‘Perhaps you should go now, Puffin. You don't have to hear what I'm about to tell you.’

‘Tell me. I'm listening.’

‘Very well. My feeling is that you should hear it, if you can bear to. Because … well, because you must find her. There's still a chance you can find her.’

‘So my mother is alive?’

‘I've no reason to suppose otherwise.’

‘Then tell me. Go on with what you're saying.’

He came back to the desk and sat down once more in front of me. ‘That day Wang Ku came to your house,’ he said. ‘It's fitting you should remember that day. You're quite right to suspect it was important. It was the day your mother discovered that Wang Ku's motives were far from pure. Put simply, he planned to seize the opium shipments himself. Of course, he'd made complicated arrangements, so that it went through three or four other parties, very Chinese that, but in the end, yes, that's what it amounted to. Most of us already knew this, but your mother didn't. We'd kept her in the dark, perhaps foolishly, because we sensed she'd not accept it. The rest of us, naturally we had qualms, but we decided to work with Wang nevertheless. Yes, he'd sell the opium to the same people the trading companies did. But the important thing was to stop the imports. To make the trade unprofitable. Unfortunately, that day Wang Ku came to your house he said something that for the first time made clear to your mother the reality of his relationship with us. My guess is she felt foolish. Perhaps she'd suspected it all along, but hadn't wished to look at it, and was as angry with herself and with me as she was with Wang. In any case, she quite lost her temper, actually struck him. Only lightly, you understand, but her hand did touch his cheek. And of course, she said everything she had to say to his face. I knew then some terrible price would have to be paid. I tried to sort the thing out then and there. I explained to him how your father had just left, that your mother was really upset, I tried to convey all this to him as he left. He smiled and said not to worry, but I worried, oh yes, I worried all right. I knew that what your mother had done couldn't be undone so easily. I'd have been relieved, I tell you, if all Wang had done in response was stop participating in our plan. But he wanted the opium, he'd already made plenty of arrangements. Besides, he'd been insulted by a foreign woman, and he wanted to put things right.’

As I leant towards him into the glare of the lamp, an odd feeling came over me that behind my back the darkness had grown and grown, so that now a vast black space had opened up there. Uncle Philip had paused to wipe some sweat from his forehead with the heel of a hand. But now he looked at me intently and continued:

‘I went to see Wang Ku later that day at the Metropole. I did what I could to try and stop the calamity I knew would come. But it was no use. What he told me that afternoon was that far from being angered by your mother, he'd found her spirit – that's what he called it, her “spirit” – highly attractive. So much so that he wished to take her back with him as a concubine, back to Hunan. He proposed to “tame” your mother, as he would a wild mare. Now you must understand, Puffin, the way things were then, in Shanghai, in China, if a man like Wang Ku decided on a course like that, there was little anyone could do to stop him. That's what you must understand. Nothing at all would have been achieved by asking the police or whoever to guard your mother. That might have slowed things down a little, but that's all. There was no one who could protect your mother from the intentions of a man like that. But you see, Puffin, my great fear was for you. I wasn't sure what he intended to do with you, and that's what I was really pleading for. In the end, we came to an agreement. I would arrange things so that your mother was alone, unguarded, if at that same time I could take you right away from the scene. That's all I wanted to do. I didn't want him to take you too. Your mother, that was an inevitability. But for you, there was something to plead for. And that's what I did.’

There was a substantial pause. Then I said:

‘After this convenient arrangement, do I take it Wang Ku continued to co-operate with your scheme?’

‘Don't be cynical, Puffin.’

‘But did he?’

‘As it happened, he did. Taking your mother satisfied him. He did as we wished him to do, and I dare say, his contribution was a factor in the companies’ eventual decision to end the trade.’

‘So my mother was, you might say, sacrificed for a greater cause.’

‘Look, Puffin, it wasn't anything any of us had a choice about. You must understand that.’

‘Did you ever see my mother again? After she was abducted by this man?’

I saw him hesitate. But then he said:

‘Yes. As a matter of fact, I did. Once, seven years later. I happened to be travelling through Hunan and accepted Wang's invitation to be his guest. And there, in his fortress, yes, I did see your mother one last time.’

His voice was now almost a whisper. The phonograph downstairs was no longer playing, so that a stillness hung between us.

‘And … and what had become of her?’

‘She was in good health. She was, of course, one of several concubines. Under the circumstances, I'd say she'd adapted well to her new life.’

‘How had she been treated?’

Uncle Philip looked away. Then he said quietly: ‘When I saw her, she asked about you, naturally. I told her what news I had. She was pleased. You see, until I saw her that time, she'd been utterly cut off from the outside world. For seven years, she'd only heard what Wang chose to have her hear. What I mean is, she didn't know for certain that the financial arrangement was working. So when I saw her, that's what she wanted to know, and I was able to reassure her that it was. After seven years of torturous doubt, her mind was put at rest. I can't tell you how relieved she was. “That's all I wanted to know,” she kept saying. “That's all I wanted to know.”’

He was watching me now very carefully. After another moment, I gave him the question for which he was waiting.

‘Uncle Philip, what financial arrangement?’

He looked down at the back of his hands and studied them for a time. ‘Had it not been for you, her love for you, Puffin, your mother, I know, would have taken her own life without a moment's hesitation before allowing that scoundrel to lay a finger on her. She would have found a way, and she would have done it. But there was you to consider. So in the end, when she saw the situation for what it was, she made an arrangement. You would be financially provided for in return for … for her compliance. I saw to much of it myself, arranged it through the company. There was a man there at Byatt's, didn't have a clue what it was all about. Thought he was securing safe passage for his opium. Ha ha! He was a fool, that man!’ Uncle Philip shook his head and smiled. Then his face darkened again, as though he were now resigned to the course our conversation would take.

‘My allowance,’ I said quietly. ‘My inheritance …’

‘Your aunt in England. She was never wealthy. Your real benefactor, all these years, has been Wang Ku.’

‘So all this time, I've been living … I've been living off …’ I could not go on and simply stopped.

Uncle Philip nodded. ‘Your schooling. Your place in London society. The fact that you made of yourself what you have. You owe it to Wang Ku. Or rather, to your mother's sacrifice.’

He stood up again, and when he looked at me I saw something new in his face, something almost like hatred. But then he turned and moved away into the shadows, and I could see it no more.

‘That time I last saw your mother,’ he said. ‘In that fortress. She'd lost all concern for the opium campaign. She only lived for you, worried for you. By that time, the trade had been made illegal. But even that news meant nothing to her any more. Of course I was bitter about it, as were the others of us who'd given years to the campaign. We'd finally achieved our goal, we thought. Opium trade abolished. It only took a year or two to see what abolition really meant. The trade had simply changed hands, that was all. It was now run by Chiang's government. More addicts than ever, but now it was being peddled to pay for Chiang Kai-shek's army, to pay for his power. That's when I joined the Reds, Puffin. Your mother, I thought she'd be devastated to know what our campaign had amounted to, but she no longer cared. All she wanted was for you to be looked after. She only wanted news of you. Do you know, Puffin’ – his voice suddenly took on a strange edge – ‘when I saw her that time, she seemed well enough. But while I was there, I asked others in the household, people who would know. I wanted to find out the truth, find out how she'd really been treated, because … because I knew that one day this moment, this meeting we're having now, was bound to come. And I found out. Oh yes, I found out. Everything.’

‘Are you deliberately trying to torment me?’

‘It wasn't just … just a matter of surrendering to him in bed. He regularly whipped her in front of his dinner guests. Taming the white woman, he called it. And that wasn't all. Do you know …’

I had already covered my ears, but now shouted out: ‘Enough! Why torture me like this?’

‘Why?’ His voice was now angry. ‘Why? Because I want you to know the truth! All these years, you've thought of me as a despicable creature. Perhaps I am, but it's what this world does to you. I never meant to be like this. I meant to do good in this world. In my way, I once made courageous decisions. And look at me now. You despise me. You've despised me all these years, Puffin, the closest thing I ever had to a son, and you despise me still. But now do you see how the world really is? You see what made possible your comfortable life in England? How you were able to become a celebrated detective? A detective! What good is that to anyone? Stolen jewels, aristocrats murdered for their inheritance. Do you suppose that's all there is to contend with? Your mother, she wanted you to live in your enchanted world for ever. But it's impossible. In the end it has to shatter. It's a miracle it survived so long for you. Now, Puffin, here. I'll give you this chance. Here.’

He had taken out his pistol again. He came from the shadows towards me, and when I looked up, he was looming above me, much as he had done in my childhood. He flung back his jacket and pressed the pistol into his waistcoat near his heart.

‘Here,’ he said, bending down and whispering so I could smell his stale breath. ‘Here, boy. You can kill me. As you've always wanted to. That's why I've stayed alive so long. No one else should have that privilege. I've saved myself, you see, for you. Pull the trigger. Here, look. We'll make it appear as if I attacked you. I'll be holding the gun, I'll fall over you. When they come in, they'll see my body collapsed over you, it'll look like self-defence. See, here, I'm holding it. You pull the trigger, Puffin.’

His waistcoat was pushing against my face, moving up and down with his heaving chest. I felt a revulsion, and tried to move away, but his free hand – the skin felt indescribably parched – had grasped my arm in an effort to draw me to him. It occurred to me he would pull the trigger himself if my hand so much as touched the pistol. I pulled back violently, unbalancing my chair, and staggered away from him.

For a second we both glanced guiltily towards the door to see if the commotion would bring in the guards. But nothing happened, and eventually Uncle Philip laughed, and picking up the chair, positioned it carefully in front of the desk. Then he sat on it himself, put the pistol down on the desk, and spent some time recovering his breath. I took a few more steps away from the desk, but there was nothing else in that cavernous room, and I simply came to a stop, my back still turned to him. Then I heard him say:

‘All right. Very well.’ He took a few more gulps of air. ‘Then I'll tell you. I'll make to you my darkest confession.’

But for the next minute, all I could hear behind me was his heaving breath. Then finally he said:

‘Very well. I'll confess to you the truth. About why I allowed Wang Ku to kidnap your mother that day. What I said before, yes, it's true enough. I had to safeguard you. Yes, yes, everything I said earlier more or less stands. But if I'd really wanted to, if I'd really wanted to save your mother, I know I'd have found a way to do so. I'll tell you something now, Puffin. Something I wasn't able to confess even to myself for many years. I helped Wang take your mother because a part of me wanted her to become his slave. To be used like that, night after night. Because you see, I always lusted after her, right from the days when I came to be a lodger in your house. Oh yes, I desired her, and when your father went off like that, I believed it was my chance, that I was his natural successor. But … but your mother, she'd never looked at me like that, I realised it after your father went away. She respected me as someone decent … No, no, it was impossible. Not in a thousand years could I put myself forward to her, not in that sort of way. And I was angry. I was so angry. And when it all happened, with Wang Ku, it excited me. Do you hear me, Puffin? It excited me! After he took her away, in the darkest hours of the night, it excited me. All those years, I lived vicariously through Wang. It was almost as though I'd conquered her too. I gave myself pleasure, many many times, imagining for myself what was happening to her. Now, now, kill me! Why spare me? You've heard it! Here, shoot me like a rat!’

For a long time, I went on standing in the darkened part of the room, my back to him, listening to his breathing. Then I turned to him again and said, quite quietly:

‘You said earlier you believed my mother was still alive. Is she still with Wang Ku?’

‘Wang died four years ago. His army, in any case, was disbanded by Chiang. I don't know where she is now, Puffin. I honestly don't.’

‘Well. I shall find her. I shan't give up.’

‘It won't be easy, my boy. There's war raging through the country. It'll soon engulf the whole of it.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I dare say it will soon engulf the whole world. But that's not my fault. In fact, it's no longer my concern. I mean to start again, and this time to find her. Is there anything else you can tell me to help with my search?’

‘I'm afraid not, Puffin. I've told you everything.’

‘Then goodbye, Uncle Philip. I'm sorry I'm not able to oblige you.’

‘Don't worry. No shortage of people willing to oblige the Yellow Snake.’ He gave a quick laugh. Then he said in a weary voice: ‘Goodbye, Puffin. I hope you find her.’

Previous:Chapter Twenty-one Next:Chapter Twenty-three
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