Her great-uncle stayed long enough to see to things around the house, sorting through the downstairs rooms and carting junk away. Some days he went out on errands that were mysterious to June. She didn’t know if he had a home elsewhere, and he was evasive on the topic, always grinning and sidestepping. He had few possessions, just his clothes and a shaving kit. Coming across his wallet lying open one day, she checked his driver’s licence. She couldn’t read the characters for his address but she knew they did not say Ōita prefecture.

Another time she saw him with what might have been his mail, although it was equally possible it was her grandmother’s. She figured he was handling his late sister’s affairs; someone had to be doing it, paying the bills at least, because the power and water were still on.

June gathered from his comments that it had been more than a month since her grandmother’s death, and she wondered whether the news had reached her father. He hadn’t said anything to June at the time, before she left, hadn’t suggested they go to the funeral. But she figured he had to know by now, if he didn’t before.

As to what Koji knew of June’s situation, she couldn’t tell how much he guessed. He didn’t ask about her parents; he seemed to accept that she was on her own. He did ask about Naomi, saying, ‘Don’t you have a sister? Where is she?’

She wondered what to tell him. ‘In Osaka,’ she said cautiously, watching his expression.

‘Ah. In Osaka. I see.’ He gave her a hard stare, then walked away mumbling cryptically to himself.

It was possible he was trying to make her uncomfortable. His presence made things tricky in other ways too. As long as he was there, she could not bathe in the kitchen. With the bath still out of action, she was forced to go to the bathhouse in the laneway, two doors down. Even on her first visit, the neighbourhood women knew exactly who she was. She should have realised they were all gossiping about her. She also learned what was wrong with her bath at home: a neighbour across the alley had dug down to the spring and diverted the water for himself. June didn’t really care; the bathhouse was cheap and close and it was the best place to warm up. She could never get her grandmother’s draughty house properly warm, and while Koji was there he hogged the kotatsu.

After two and a half weeks, the old man moved on. He left while she was out, taking his bowling bag of possessions. She had no idea where he’d gone. She suspected he travelled by train; she hadn’t seen a car and the idea of him driving was alarming to think about.

Finally! Alone at last.