Free Kazuo Ishiguro by When We Were Orphans (txt) Page B

regularly as I grew older, as though it were something she wished me to take to my heart; and I remember often listening to her recount the whole story to visitors, usually concluding with a little laugh and the observation that the inspector had been removed from his post shortly after the encounter. Consequently, I cannot be sure today how much of my memory of that morning derives from what I actually witnessed from the landing, and to what extent it has merged over time with my mother’s accounts of the episode. In any case, my impression is that as Akira and I peered round the edge of the oak cabinet, the inspector was saying something like: ‘I have every respect for your sentiments, Mrs Banks. Nevertheless, out here, one can’t be too careful. And the company does have a responsibility for all employees’ welfare, even the more seasoned, such as yourself and Mr Banks.’
    ‘I am sorry, Mr Wright,’ my mother responded, ‘but your objections have yet to make themselves clear to me. These servants you talk of have given excellent service over the years. I can vouch utterly for their standards of hygiene. And you have yourself admitted they show no signs of any contagious illness.’
    ‘Nevertheless, madam, they are from Shantung. And the company is obliged to counsel all our employees against taking natives of that province into their houses. A stricture, may I say, derived from bitter experience.’
    ‘Can you be serious? You wish me to drive out these friends of ours - yes, we’ve long considered them friends! - for no other reason than that they hail from Shantung?’
    At this, the inspector’s manner grew rather pompous. He proceeded to explain to my mother that the company’s objections to servants from Shantung were based on doubts about not just their hygiene and health, but also their honesty. And with so many items of value in the house belonging to the company - the inspector gestured around him - he was obliged to reiterate most strongly his recommendation. When my mother broke in again to ask on what basis such astonishing generalisations had been made, the inspector gave a weary sigh, then said: ‘In a word, madam, opium. Opium addiction in Shantung has now advanced to such deplorable levels that entire villages are to be found enslaved to the pipe. Hence, Mrs Banks, the low standards of hygiene, the high incidence of contagion. And inevitably, those who come from Shantung to work in Shanghai, even if essentially of an honest disposition, tend sooner or later to resort to thieving, for the sake of their parents, brothers, cousins, uncles, what have you, all of whose cravings must somehow be pacified… Good gracious, madam! I’m simply trying to make my point…’
    Not only was it the inspector who recoiled at this point; beside me, Akira gave a sharp intake of breath, and when I glanced at him he was staring down at my mother openmouthed.
    It is this picture of him at that moment which led me later to believe his subsequent awestruck view of my mother originated from that morning.
    But if the inspector and Akira both started at something my mother did at that point, I did not myself see anything out of the ordinary. To me, she appeared to do no more than brace herself a little in preparation for what she was about to assert. But then, I suppose I was well used to her ways; possibly to those less familiar with them, certain of my mother’s customary looks and postures in such situations might indeed have come over as somewhat alarming.
    This is not to say that I was not fully alert to the explosion that was to follow. In fact, from the instant the inspector had uttered the word ‘opium’, I had known that the unfortunate man was done for.
    He had come to an abrupt halt, no doubt expecting to be cut off. But I recall my mother letting hang a trembling silence throughout which her glare never moved off the inspector before finally asking in a quiet voice that nevertheless threatened to brim