Just as the train slid into the station, Yasué called out to her. ‘I will start by trying to put a little distance between myself and them!’
The young woman turned round to Yasué and, grinning, flashed her a thumbs-up. Once the train doors opened, she stepped inside without looking back again.
Which was appropriate for someone she had just happened to meet.
As she exited through the ticket gate and headed for the opposite platform, Yasué was pondering.
She would start by increasing her hours at her part-time job. There was the matter of her husband’s tax exemption for dependents, but she would consult with him and figure out the maximum she could still work.
Lately things had been tight with their household budget. And her son would soon be going off to university. If she were to gradually decrease the number of times she saw those women, then perhaps they’d eventually stop calling her – especially since, as the college student had said, they took Yasué for granted anyway.
If she were to mention her budget woes, those women might say that her husband didn’t provide for her adequately. He wasn’t the kind of man to worry about such opinions, but Yasué would be much happier not to have to feel guilty about spending so much on a designer handbag just to keep up with them.
Instead, she would take that five thousand yen and her whole family could have dinner at her son’s favourite restaurant.
And then, above all, she would be the kind of wife and mother about whom no stranger would ever say,
Koto’en Station
The squad of brash older ladies were so loud and unruly, Etsuko sought refuge in another car. There was no way she was ever going to retain the vocabulary she was studying on her flash cards, not with all that chattering and shrieking. They were as bad as a group of toddlers on a nursery-school outing.
Now that it was exam season, Etsuko had already determined which university to set her sights on. She held onto the railing by the door with one hand and flipped through her flash cards with the other.
The next stop was Koto’en.
Etsuko’s high school was in Koto’en so she’d been commuting there all this time, but the university that was also served by that station was beyond her reach. Her first choice was a private university that had a respectable nursing programme.
The station was always crowded with university students, each with their own distinct personal style. Vibrant and energetic, they seemed to be living their best lives.
Since Etsuko’s grades hadn’t been able to score her a recommendation for a competitive university, the guidance counsellor had advised her to set her sights lower, especially if she wasn’t going to sit the exams for a back-up choice. For this reason, Etsuko had decided to take the entrance exam for a nursing college, thinking that at least it would prepare her for a professional qualification.
Her friends were each pursuing their own options, attending different crammers. Now, even though they no longer had to be in high school during the week, they still met up there on Saturday afternoons under the pretext of a group study session.
It wasn’t long until graduation. The bittersweetness of their impending farewell was what drew them to gather together in the classroom.
They called it a study session but it was really more like a gab fest. Some girls had already been accepted at a college, while others still waiting to hear from their top choice were reliably sure they’d get in (Etsuko was in this latter group).
None of them were adventurous by nature. Though they may have appeared boisterous and happy-go-lucky, they all played it safe. Maybe they were just faint of heart. They weren’t the type to really push themselves to reach for a better college, to assume the risk of failing and having to retake their exams next year. Instead they opted for the sure thing.
Well aware of how precious the time they had left was, they looked forward to the chance to be together each week.
Etsuko – Et-chan, as her friends called her – was still with her boyfriend, the one who had a job but couldn’t read kanji.
‘Still haven’t dunnit?’
They may have been faint-hearted, and still only superficially knowledgeable without much actual experience, but her friends never failed to ask Etsuko about her status. To which she always confidently replied, ‘Not yet!’
The fact that it had almost happened would be her secret.
The teachers at both her high school and her crammer had told her that if she kept her nose to the grindstone until the end of March, she might just pass her exam. But they also told her she needed a backup plan.