Holding his fork like a small trident in his fist, Dev stared unseeingly at the rain-smeared lights.

‘You have to forget her,’ Ana said. ‘That’s the worst story I’ve ever heard.’

‘But there were times,’ he said, ignoring her, ‘I know she felt it. And if she could feel it then, she could feel it again. I could – I told myself – I could inculcate that love. After I saw that, I thought, okay, I’ll wait.’

Then he described the time when he had last seen her, or rather the last two times, both soon after she married. After carefully composing her final college dissertation for her, he had met her away from prying eyes on a windswept Yokohama beach, handing over the finished essay in electronic and hard copies. Then he had seen her at graduation; she was there in a silver dress. On her arm was the man she had married instead of him. All the cameras, Dev said, sought her in that crowd, searching for her beauty, her white moon of a face.

The typhoon was predicted to hit Tokyo that night. But as often happened, it swooped away at the final hour, thanks to a quirk of topography that favoured the capital. Next morning when Ana woke, it was to the clearest day she had ever seen in the city. The air was dry and hot, drawing everyone outdoors. The park was full of pregnant women, children and their maids. This was also the day Ana’s visa finally arrived, by mail, in an official-looking envelope that she tore at hastily. There it was in black and white, her permission to work.

She promptly celebrated by doing something she never did: sightseeing. Taking the train to Asakusa, she visited the temple and neighbouring laneways, where old people moved with tiny, precise steps. She ended the tour with an iced tea in a snack bar. She drank it looking into the storefront opposite, at a spinning mannequin that, ‘Sale’ sign notwithstanding, cocked its knee and posed with new-season confidence.

That night she and Dev fried gyoza in a pan. They ate the dumplings on the couch while talking of old times.

‘Do you remember, Ana, when that friend of yours came to visit? You let her nap in my room without telling me. I came home to find her in my bed, this plump girl snuggled in the duvet, her big boob coming out a little. She woke up and said sorry. I said, no, no, don’t worry, I’m about to get in with you.’

He laughed. ‘I did not say that. I was very well behaved, very polite. In those days I was bright and young, not eating meat or drinking.’ Recklessly he added, ‘Now I’m a tiger.’