to-boot. All these little bothersome little things he had one by one had to get used to.
It was past eleven o’clock in the morning therefore before he finally got to bed and around quarter past before he finally dropped off into a restless slumber. He’d constantly tossed and turned and when he had ended flat on his back, open mouthed and snoring like a top class trombone player, he’d jerked himself rudely awake and found his mind had reverted back to notions concerning what he thought he had, or had not seen that night – it left a most unsettling feeling within him.
As he lay in bed, quite awake now, his mind attempted to recreate what he’d seen and tried to pull together the shadowy images that flitted temporarily onto the empty screens of his retina. It was all the more disturbing, precisely because he felt he had, he thought, seen something unusual.Yet,this ‘something’ continued to elude him, despite on several occasions, having it tantalisingly in his grasp before it fizzled away like light being caught within a black hole.
12 - In which a fallen politician plots the way back home
Friday 31st December 11:45am
For his part Hiro Watanabe had not wallowed in idle self-pity, wasteful introspection nor been tempted down the road of intoxicated release. He had been sharp to mobilise his team, what was left of it anyway, and had issued what he hoped was a well worded statement to every media outlet he could think of. He was unequivocal in his rebuttal of the allegations, declared that he had no knowledge of the kiss-and-tell woman in question – after all how could he? He had been with his wife during the time the woman had said they were having unbridled and passionate sex. The whole story was a pack of lies and he was considering taking legal advice to sue ‘ Nikkan Gendai ’ for making the tasteless assertions.
During the construction of this delicate barricade he did then wonder whether or not he had been too hasty in his sacking of Kinjo, after all the two of them had been together for longer than he could remember and without Kinjo’s ability at speech-writing and general organisation he might suffer in the long-run. Kinjo had been loyal when others had left the fold. Kinjo had been there during all the twists and turns in his political career. It felt wrong that he would be without him from now on in.
But then again Kinjo had been acting strangely recently – ever since the meeting with Hatoyama his mind had seemed elsewhere. It was undeniably that whole business that had caused the change in Kinjo’s behaviour, that and his possible double-dealing and courting of the Ryozo. On consideration it was entirely right that he had sacked Kinjo.
In terms of the woman though, he would have to take action. No-one crossed Hiro Watanabe and came out a winner. He would have to seek retribution, but that would be risky. If any harm came to her then suspicion would be bound to fall on him. No! Revenge, or at least some kind of action, would have to come, but how? How indeed!
Fifteen minutes later Hiro Watanabe, after taking some pretty rapid decisions, walked down Ginza High street with the intensity of a man on a mission - his haste only diluted by his inability to make speedy headway through the shop-keepers shovelling the snow from the sidewalk and the subsequent piles of snow and slush which they created. Both were obstructing the pavement. He passed by the usually shining, upmarket shops barely wasting a first glance, never mind a second, at the numerous high-priced items displayed within their window fronts. He shuddered as he walked, despite wearing a long, thick woollen over-coat and he was looking forward to getting back into the warmth. He wasn’t an outdoors person, never had been, preferring the smoke-filled cordiality of the bars and meeting houses of the political class.
He did however, pause momentarily outside a Japanese paper shop and feigned interest in
It was past eleven o’clock in the morning therefore before he finally got to bed and around quarter past before he finally dropped off into a restless slumber. He’d constantly tossed and turned and when he had ended flat on his back, open mouthed and snoring like a top class trombone player, he’d jerked himself rudely awake and found his mind had reverted back to notions concerning what he thought he had, or had not seen that night – it left a most unsettling feeling within him.
As he lay in bed, quite awake now, his mind attempted to recreate what he’d seen and tried to pull together the shadowy images that flitted temporarily onto the empty screens of his retina. It was all the more disturbing, precisely because he felt he had, he thought, seen something unusual.Yet,this ‘something’ continued to elude him, despite on several occasions, having it tantalisingly in his grasp before it fizzled away like light being caught within a black hole.
12 - In which a fallen politician plots the way back home
Friday 31st December 11:45am
For his part Hiro Watanabe had not wallowed in idle self-pity, wasteful introspection nor been tempted down the road of intoxicated release. He had been sharp to mobilise his team, what was left of it anyway, and had issued what he hoped was a well worded statement to every media outlet he could think of. He was unequivocal in his rebuttal of the allegations, declared that he had no knowledge of the kiss-and-tell woman in question – after all how could he? He had been with his wife during the time the woman had said they were having unbridled and passionate sex. The whole story was a pack of lies and he was considering taking legal advice to sue ‘ Nikkan Gendai ’ for making the tasteless assertions.
During the construction of this delicate barricade he did then wonder whether or not he had been too hasty in his sacking of Kinjo, after all the two of them had been together for longer than he could remember and without Kinjo’s ability at speech-writing and general organisation he might suffer in the long-run. Kinjo had been loyal when others had left the fold. Kinjo had been there during all the twists and turns in his political career. It felt wrong that he would be without him from now on in.
But then again Kinjo had been acting strangely recently – ever since the meeting with Hatoyama his mind had seemed elsewhere. It was undeniably that whole business that had caused the change in Kinjo’s behaviour, that and his possible double-dealing and courting of the Ryozo. On consideration it was entirely right that he had sacked Kinjo.
In terms of the woman though, he would have to take action. No-one crossed Hiro Watanabe and came out a winner. He would have to seek retribution, but that would be risky. If any harm came to her then suspicion would be bound to fall on him. No! Revenge, or at least some kind of action, would have to come, but how? How indeed!
Fifteen minutes later Hiro Watanabe, after taking some pretty rapid decisions, walked down Ginza High street with the intensity of a man on a mission - his haste only diluted by his inability to make speedy headway through the shop-keepers shovelling the snow from the sidewalk and the subsequent piles of snow and slush which they created. Both were obstructing the pavement. He passed by the usually shining, upmarket shops barely wasting a first glance, never mind a second, at the numerous high-priced items displayed within their window fronts. He shuddered as he walked, despite wearing a long, thick woollen over-coat and he was looking forward to getting back into the warmth. He wasn’t an outdoors person, never had been, preferring the smoke-filled cordiality of the bars and meeting houses of the political class.
He did however, pause momentarily outside a Japanese paper shop and feigned interest in
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