Glass Geishas by Susanna Quinn

Author:Susanna Quinn
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Crime, recent
ISBN: 9781444733587
Publisher: Hodder
Published: 2012-06-06T23:00:00+00:00

32

It turned out to be a long night. A few party groups came into the club at midnight and Steph knocked back drink after drink until finally, at 1a.m., Mr Yamamoto arrived. Hiro chose Steph to sit with him and, although the other girls didn’t look pleased, Steph couldn’t help beaming with delight.

Once she was at the table, Steph poured drinks slowly and carefully just like she’d learned at the tea ceremony, taking care over every gesture. She made sure the glass was always centred on the coaster and the whisky bottle faced the same way, ignoring the cold stares from the waiting table.

Yamamoto-san seemed to enjoy the care and precision with which Steph attended to him, and told her he’d ask for her the next time he came in. But try as she might, she couldn’t get him to reveal Annabel’s phone number. ‘Next time, next time. Maybe, maybe,’ was all he said on the subject.

In the changing room at the end of the night, Chastity and Christiana made their feelings about Steph even clearer. ‘She doesn’t even have her own clothes . . . There’s no way she’s good enough to hostess here . . . Why did Mama even hire her? What’s with all those scars, who likes those?’

As Steph changed, they jostled her and crowded around the lockers so she couldn’t get her bag. She pushed and shoved as good as she got, but it hurt to feel so isolated and disliked, even though her name was now on the bonus chart and she felt assured of a full-time job as soon as Mama came back.

Steph was set free at 3 a.m. and walked uphill towards Roppongi crossroads with the stagger of someone who was slightly drunk and had been in high heels all evening. As Steph passed a sushi restaurant, its window decorated with cartoon pictures of raw fish and rice, she spotted a familiar face behind the glass.

Julia.

She hesitated, guessing she’d be met with another frosty response, but knocked on the glass anyway.

Julia turned round. She had chopsticks in her hand, and was perched on a stool next to a fat, forty-something western man with no eyebrows. She looked fragile and skinny.

Even though no invitation was forthcoming, Steph pushed open the glass door to the restaurant, the odour of warm, slightly stale fish greeting her as she stepped inside. There were huge hunks of raw fish, some of them with dried-out edges, lying under a glass counter.

A sturdy Japanese man stood behind the fish, slicing sashimi with a giant cleaver. Julia sat at the bar beside her companion; they were the only customers in the restaurant.

‘Steph? I’m busy right now,’ said Julia, staring at a little dish of soy sauce and wasabi. The man had his hand on her thigh.

‘It won’t take a minute. I just wanted to ask . . . Does Annabel work at your club?’

Julia’s eyes were red and tired. ‘I don’t know. Janes is a big place. You could work there for months and not meet all the hostesses – there are like fifty or something.

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