Page 102 of Little Miss Fortune

‘She barely watches TV,’ Hannah shouts from the living room. ‘She shouted at me for having a messy room the other day. I called her Kim, from Kim and Aggie. You know what she said?’

‘I—’ I try to defend myself.

‘What did she say?’ Toby shouts back.

‘She said, Kim Jong Un will be a kinder option if you don’t get your ass in gear.’

Toby topples over and is promptly kicked out from the kitchen, taking a seat next to Hannah on the couch. I finish frying the vegetables and the prawns by myself. A key twists in the front door and a loud stomp is heard.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

‘Girls, I am home. Was going to stay for longer to celebrate, but I think I pulled me—’ Dad freezes with his slipper in his hands. ‘You are not one of my daughters.’

‘Uh, Dad, this is Toby.’ I point at him with both hands, like a gallery assistant at a portrait exhibition. This is Toby Lewis, last captured alive in Fuko Brewer’s living room.

Dad glances at my very date-looking clothes and the apron that’s covering them. He then draws to where Hannah is sitting, hiding her face from him.

‘Nice to meet you, Mr. Brewer.’ Toby reaches out for a handshake.

Dad shakes it. ‘Likewise,’ he says, dryly.

Fuck.

‘Dinner is almost ready.’ I urge everyone to sit at the table, which Hanna helps pull away from the wall to fit the fourth chair in.

With a beer in his hand and fried battered vegetables in front of him, Dad is a lot more relaxed. He might even be enjoying Toby’s company, listening to his stories from Oxford.

‘You went all the way to Singapore to win the challenge?’ He gawks at the story of a jailbreak competition, where you had to get the furthest from your uni without spending your own money.

‘Someone went all the way to New Zealand. They didn’t win because they got delayed at their layover in Hong Kong.’

‘Ugh.’ Dad shakes his head in disgust. ‘Hong Kong airport. Ayako’s arch-nemesis.’

The food gets stuck in my throat at my mother’s name. I look at Hannah and she is just as shocked. Dad doesn’t like to talk about Mum. Or can’t, rather. He wells up and brings out the albums from the old vintage dresser. ‘I have a picture somewhere.’

‘Dad, please don’t,’ I mumble.

‘Father, I beg.’ Hanako pulls him away.

But it’s too late. For the next half an hour, Dad goes through all the pictures. Mine, Hannah’s, Mum’s when she was a teacher, Dad’s when he joined a shamisen band. Me learning the Owara dance. Pictures of my foot from the mukade bite. Pictures of us in the hospital with Mum. My late grandparents at my parents’ wedding. Hannah’s crying face when an oni demon (her elementary school teacher in a costume) came out to receive throwing beans from the children. Setsubun takes a minute to fully explain.

‘Sort of like Japanese Halloween with Christmas notes, but instead of asking Santa to come, we shoo a demon away.’ We concoct an explanation together.

‘With beans.’

‘That we then eat.’

When the pictures are exhausted, Toby politely looks at his watch and announces that it’s time for him to depart. I walk him out. He squeezes my hand without saying anything and turns away. Clouds darkening in the distance.

‘He was lovely,’ my dad pronounces. ‘And you are grounded. Again.’

CHAPTER 34

Toby stole his own car! He flew SIMPO while Fuko was completing her internship!

Something is wrong.

Zaria: Hi! I hope this is the account of the right Fuko. It’s Toby’s birthday in two weeks, and we were hoping to throw him a surprise party. Can I ask you to take him out on Saturday during the day and bring him here? Thanks!