The Remains of the Day - By Kazuo Ishiguro Page 0,72
without our meeting on this basis.’
‘Mr Stevens, this is quite unnecessary. I merely said …’
‘I mean it, Miss Kenton. In fact, I had been wondering for some time if we should not discontinue these meetings, given how they prolong our already very busy days. The fact that we have met here now for years is no reason in itself why we should not seek a more convenient arrangement from here on.’
‘Mr Stevens, please, I believe these meetings are very useful …’
‘But they are inconvenient for you, Miss Kenton. They tire you out. May I suggest that from now on, we simply make a special point of communicating important information during the course of the normal working day. Should we not be able to find each other readily, I suggest we leave written messages at one another’s doors. That seems to me a perfectly fine solution. Now, Miss Kenton, I apologize for keeping you up so long. Thank you very kindly for the cocoa.’
*
Naturally – and why should I not admit this? – I have occasionally wondered to myself how things might have turned out in the long run had I not been so determined over the issue of our evening meetings; that is to say, had I relented on those several occasions over the weeks that followed when Miss Kenton suggested we reinstitute them. I only speculate over this now because in the light of subsequent events, it could well be argued that in making my decision to end those evening meetings once and for all, I was perhaps not entirely aware of the full implications of what I was doing. Indeed, it might even be said that this small decision of mine constituted something of a key turning point; that the decision set things on an inevitable course towards what eventually happened.
But then, I suppose, when with the benefit of hindsight one begins to search one’s past for such ‘turning points’, one is apt to start seeing them everywhere. Not only my decision in respect of our evening meetings, but also that episode in my pantry, if one felt so inclined, could be seen as such a ‘turning point’. What would have transpired, one may ask, had one responded slightly differently that evening she came in with her vase of flowers? And perhaps – occurring as it did around the same time as these events – my encounter with Miss Kenton in the dining room the afternoon she received the news of her aunt’s death might be seen as yet another ‘turning point’ of sorts.
News of the death had arrived some hours earlier; indeed, I had myself knocked on the door of her parlour that morning to hand her the letter. I had stepped inside for a brief moment to discuss some professional matter, and I recall we were seated at her table and in mid-conversation at the moment she opened the letter. She became very still, but to her credit she remained composed, reading the letter through at least twice. Then she put the letter carefully back in its envelope and looked across the table to me.
‘It is from Mrs Johnson, a companion of my aunt. She says my aunt died the day before yesterday.’ She paused a moment, then said: ‘The funeral is to take place tomorrow. I wonder if it might be possible for me to take the day off.’
‘I am sure that could be arranged, Miss Kenton.’
‘Thank you, Mr Stevens. Forgive me, but perhaps I may now have a few moments alone.’
‘Of course, Miss Kenton.’
I made my exit, and it was not until after I had done so that it occurred to me I had not actually offered her my
condolences. I could well imagine the blow the news would be to her, her aunt having been, to all intents and purposes, like a mother to her, and I paused out in the corridor, wondering if I should go back, knock and make good my omission. But then it occurred to me that if I were to do so, I might easily intrude upon her private grief. Indeed, it was not impossible that Miss Kenton, at that very moment, and only a few feet from me, was actually crying. The thought provoked a strange feeling to rise within me, causing me to stand there hovering in the corridor for some moments. But eventually I judged it best to await another opportunity to express my sympathy and went on my way.