I knocked and, after a few moments, the door opened a crack. Fago’s face appeared in the gap and she surveyed me briefly, before letting out a slight sigh. With an exaggerated frown, she finally spoke.
“Rare to see you here on your own.”
“Would you have preferred someone else?”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Anyway, did you need something?”
“I thought we could discuss the Lantern Flower Festival.”
“So you’re really going ahead with it... Fine then, come in.”
I took her up on her offer and walked inside. A small wooden frame rested on the living room table with white cloth stretched tight across it. A needle stood stabbed partway through the cloth, red thread trailing from its end.
“Embroidery?” I asked.
“You need something to amuse yourself when you have this much free time,” was her only answer.
I paused for a moment, then replied, “I completely get that.”
After all, I’m always worrying about what to do with myself.
“I’ll brew some tea. You sit and wait.”
She quickly tidied up the cloth and sewing implements that were scattered across the table and sofa before heading into the kitchen. I watched her leave, then turned my gaze to the black-and-white photos on the shelf. A certain one of them was, unsurprisingly, still sitting facedown.
“What do we need for the festival, then?” I asked, raising my voice so she could hear me from the kitchen.
“Well, firstly, you need food. Also, some alcohol.”
“Nito and I can’t drink.”
“It’s for making an offering to the saint. You two are far too young for drinking and making merry.”
Right, that makes sense. This was closer to a religious festival than a standard summer festival from back home, so preparing things to share with the saint would be critical.
“Also, there’s always a bonfire when night falls, so we’ll need firewood. There’s a stockpile in the temple that we can use, though. The final thing is the lantern flowers themselves.”
“Where do they grow?”
“You’ve been to that stubborn old man’s house, right? They grow around that lake he lives by.”
“We’ll need to collect them, then. Lots of them.”
“There’s only going to be four of us, right? No need to get that many. We’re better off having too few than getting tired of releasing them all.”
“True. I invited the others, but they turned me down. Every last one—Monty, Jill...and Paula.”
“Well...you’re holding a festival that no one’s held in ages. It’s only natural people wouldn’t want to participate after this long.”
Fago returned from the kitchen, carrying a tea set atop a tray. Then she just stood there for a moment and aimed a doubtful look at me. I was pretty sure I had a concerned expression on my face as I looked back at her. Poking my nose into other people’s business was really not something I enjoyed, but I made myself ask anyway.
“Do you, uh, know the name ‘Paula’?”
“Who’s to say? You quickly forget names as the years pile on,” she answered indifferently, putting the tray on the table and starting to pour out the tea.
“You seem to have known Monty for a long time.”
“He used to live here before he moved farther out, and the village was small enough that everyone knew everyone else.”
“So you knew his daughter too?”
It was only then that she stopped pouring. She didn’t look at me, just let out a sigh of what I could only identify as defeat.
“So you already knew... Out with it, then. Enough with all this beating around the bush.”
“Sorry. I only just found out, to be honest.”
I relaxed ever so slightly when she paused to blow the steam off her tea. This was a sensitive enough issue that I wouldn’t have been surprised to find myself getting kicked out. If she was acting this calm, though, I reasoned that I probably wouldn’t need to flee, so I sat myself down on the sofa.
After pondering whether to move along with the conversation or the tea, I eventually decided to wet my throat first. As I took a sip of the hot tea, I considered how to go about this. I’d been thinking about it even before I arrived, but I still had no good ideas. It seemed like the only choice was to dispense with the indirectness and just be upfront about it.
“You’ve noticed Paula coming over here from Mercian Street, haven’t you?”
“Of course,” Fago answered, with the same attitude, expression, and tone as ever. “Staring at me from the shadows every morning with such long hair and in that gaudy dress—it’d be harder for me not to notice.”
“Well...right. That makes sense now that you say it.”
It’d felt like I was making a shocking revelation, but given what she’d said, it was pretty obvious she’d have noticed. Paula was tall and well built to begin with, and her bright clothes would have just made her all the more visible from a distance.
“That child’s always overlooked things like that. Guess there’s no changing someone’s nature, then. They really think I haven’t noticed?”
“Ah... Yes.”
I’d gotten myself pretty fired up and ready for a serious discussion, but I ended up feeling adrift after Fago’s calm response. Still, I couldn’t just have the tea and then leave again.
“If you know, then haven’t you considered talking to her?”
“I have not.” This time, her voice was sharp. “How can I show my face now? What should I even say? My son died the day he left this house. I’m sure my child is well aware of that.”
She’d completely refused the idea. Given the way she was talking about Paula, talking to her must have been a daunting prospect.