When Chokugetsu-ken announced Kimmy on the phone, I hesitated. What was I to say to her? All I could think of was the book hidden in my wardrobe and the anxiety she’d thrust upon me.

‘Could you come to the Public Gardens? We could pick up some street food and eat on the benches. I need to see you,’ she said. Her voice sounded faint and timid, and my annoyance was quickly replaced by concern.

I asked Chokugetsu-ken to prepare two Japanese bento lunch boxes and a thermos flask of cold buckwheat tea. I would certainly not touch street food, and a homemade picnic seemed comforting. I thought briefly of giving the book back to her, but what if I were caught with it on the way? It seemed too risky. I set out on the tram towards the Bund with trepidation, gazing out of the window without taking in any of the street scenes.

Kimmy was standing at the gates of the park looking pale and shaken – quite a contrast from the confident girl of our last meeting. We sat on a bench well shaded by a large tree, overlooking the Whangpoo. Fortunately, the breeze blew the other way, taking with it the murky smells of the waters, and giving us a clear view. The river looked bare despite the usual throng of sampans and junks and tugs, and I realized it was because the Conte Verde was no longer there.

Once we settled, Kimmy blurted, ‘Eiko, it was just terrifying, I was so frightened!’ She looked ready to burst into tears. I suggested we eat first, to calm her down.

After a few bites, she said, ‘I was the first to arrive at the office. It's part of my job to open the place up, let some fresh air into the stuffy room – we’re all in one big room and the researchers are heavy smokers. I heard footsteps, and thought it was rather early for the researchers to show up, but didn't bother to look up and continued opening the windows. When I turned around, I nearly jumped seeing two unknown men standing there.’ She put down her chopsticks and sought my eyes.