‘By the way, did you ring me at the college?’ he asked.
‘Why should I?’
‘There was a message on my desk saying a lady had phoned. I thought it might be you.’
Then he fell into silence and sat there thoughtfully like an object up for inspection. And inspect him I did. With strong eyebrows, large, expressive eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses, a high straight nose and a firm mouth, it was an attractive face. His light coat, shirt, tie and tie-pin showed a refined taste. As we stepped out of the tea-room, a breeze ruffled his tie and brought a whiff of a scent of the lily of the valley. The idea of a man using scent would have repelled me before but it seemed to suit him. I liked it. We walked up the slope and stopped at the spot where I had stood with Hyŏn on that particular evening of the previous autumn. I compared the two men bobbing up and down on my horizon, the one with a mature, rich personality, heroically encountering the whole world, and the other with the look of a fairy-tale prince, trimmed and polished, nervous and rigid, and probably pampered by rich, adoring parents. I longingly thought of Hyŏn, but at the same time felt resentment. He hadn’t sent me or Miae so much as a single postcard since he had left.
To change my mood, I said, ‘Miae is going to be engaged soon,’ and told him briefly how she had been set on becoming a nun, but had been miraculously won over by Mr Han.
‘It shows that the power of love is stronger than the persuasion of parents or friends.’ This rather trite statement moved me deeply. Only when I look back do I realize that Miae, my long-time comrade and support, having fallen in love and deserted me, had left me emotionally vulnerable. Subconsciously, I must have felt a need to fill the gap she had left. Things were out of my control. I was ready to be impressed by anything he said.
‘So that’s why you look so forlorn today,’ he said. I ignored this and walked on.
‘You are from Yonsei University? I expect you’ve got plenty of boys after you.’
‘Well, if I had gone to a co-ed school because I was boy-hunting, no doubt I would, but I didn’t. Why? Do I look like that kind of girl?’
‘No, I didn’t mean that. But surely you have at least a steady boyfriend?’
‘No, I haven’t actually.’ I strongly denied his supposition, and as I did so, I suddenly felt very shy. By denying this so emphatically had I not invited him to court me?
He bought an expensive lunch, and as a token of thanks I offered to buy the coffee. Sitting opposite him across the table in the coffee shop, I suddenly knew I was falling in love with him. That evening I told my sister Sŏnhi about him.
It was the time when everybody was trying to pick up the pieces from the ashes in the wake of the Civil War. Poverty stricken, most people went hungry. For parents who had daughters of marriageable age, the highest they could hope for was a man who had no debts, a house of his own, however small it might be, and who was able to keep his wife decently fed and clothed. A chauffer-driven family car, elegant clothes, good looks and a job as a college lecturer, these were conditions good enough to win my sister’s consent for a further relationship with him.
‘You really are a lucky girl. You’ve always been Fate’s favourite child, haven’t you?’ She was very happy for me. ‘Just think how lucky you were to get your job just like that when there is a years’ backlog of unemployed graduates all over the country...’
She started talking about those several occasions in the past that had shown how lucky I was, as if to reassure herself that nothing could ever go wrong with me in future.
While I was at college, my father had gone bankrupt. The beginning of each term had been a time of great anxiety for the family because of my registration fees. They were an enormous sum of money for a man in debt. Many times, in despair, I was prepared to leave college and get a job instead. Then the day before, or a day after the closing date a handsome sum of money, for quite unexpected reasons, came into my troubled father’s possession. Similar miracles happened several times. As he handed the money to me with no grudge, father said, ‘You were born under a lucky star, child. Fated to carry on with your study, eh? Remember to do it well.’
My sister and I lay in bed side by side till the late hours, reminiscing before we blissfully fell asleep.
Chapter 3
Sisters
In the shadow of a large apple tree, sitting on a straw mat, my sister, Sŏnhi and I were playing at being grown-ups. She was six, two years older than me. She was always the mother and I had no choice but to be the father. While she prepared the dinner, mixing up clay, bits of flowers and leaves, and chopping up raw apples that had fallen off the tree, and arranging them on the dinner set, I sat behaving myself, stroking a dust pan and pretending it was a briefcase. I even remembered to cough lightly as if clearing my throat.
‘Dinner is ready.’ She brought in a wooden board loaded with plates and bowls stuffed with pretty ‘food’ not a scrap of which was edible.
‘You must say “it looks good”.’ She kept instructing me. As I said it I pressed my lips tight so as not to show a smile. The new tea set that father had brought with him from Seoul yesterday was very pretty and came in very handy, but I was dying to have done with this tiresome dignity and run wild.
‘You must say, “It was delicious”. Don’t you know how to be dad? Shall we swap it now, and you be the mum, and I’ll show you how to do it properly.’
‘Oh, no thank you,’ I said to myself, ‘I’ve had enough of being grown-up.’
When the long, long summer day was over and the sky in the west was blushing deep it was time for the real dinner. Round the corner of the house, mother appeared carrying the baby strapped on her back.
‘Come on, dears, dinner time. Go and wash your hands first.’ Her voice was so gentle. I don’t remember her face ever showing anger. While Sŏnhi packed the play set, I shook dust off my skirt and ran off to the cowshed where my father was giving out some instructions to the workers.
‘Father, dinner is ready.’
‘Righto!’ said he. I made a mental note of the expression for tomorrow’s dinner with Sŏnhi.
Holding my hand, father almost dragged me to the bubbling spring, where squatting down he washed my face and hands vigorously. I wished he would not let the soap suds get in my eyes. It hurt.
The large round table was out in the middle of the living room because all the family was together tonight. My father had taken a job with a newspaper company in Seoul and was away most of the time these days, leaving the running of the huge orchard virtually to mother. Then, insisting that children should be educated in the capital, he had transferred my elder brother, Hyŏngsŏk, to a reputable school there. When he left home we had all cried, and the house felt empty for a long time. Yesterday he came home with father for the summer vacation. He received a hero’s welcome, and he lavished presents from Seoul on the family.
‘Hyŏngsŏk’s no ordinary chap,’ my father said. ‘You should see the way he sticks at his studies. This term he’s missed being top by one point, but it is not the sort of thing one expects of a boy straight from the country.’ Father looked proud.
‘School work is important,’ said mother, ‘but what about his health? He looks so much thinner.’
‘I know, he’s gone thin. It was his first time away from home. His uncle and aunt are really so kind to him, but he’s been homesick, especially at the beginning.’
‘Hyŏngsŏk, did you miss me?’ Mother stroked his head, and turned away her tearful eyes. ‘Still you have got two more years to work hard, and then the year after that you ought to get into Kyŏng-gi High school, oughtn’t you? That is your father’s