Gai-Jin by James Clavell
When he had walked into their little house Nemi was dressed in her best sleeping kimono, their little sanctuary pristine, food and saké prepared and she was laughing and happy and completely attentive: “Heya, Jami-san, good you see, ah! Hear good news from boat. You to marr’iage ’rady from Scut’rand, marriage, heya?”
He had been flabbergasted at how quickly the news had travelled. “How do you know?”
“All Yoshiwara know-ah! ’Portant, neh?” Nemi bubbled. “Two day I at Great House kowtow meet soon oku-san you.”
“EH?”
“’Portant, Jami-san. Wen marr’iage? ’Portant, for oku-san, nee goh-san’ frien’, neh?”
“Are you touched?” he had burst out.
She had stared at him without understanding. “Wat for mad, Jami-san? Oku-san pay now. Oku-san pay, Jami-san, iyé? ’Portant oku-san nee—”
“That’s not the way things are done, for God’s sake.”
“No unn’stan’ … ’Portant Nemi go oku-san …”
“You’re crazy!”
“No unn’stan’,” she had said sullenly, appalled at his bellicose manner, deciding flight was the best defense from this incredible behavior—but flight of course in tears.
She was gone before he could stop her, the mama-san could not convince her to return and so, furiously, he had stomped home to bed and to little sleep. God Almighty, Nemi coming to Struan’s to see Maureen? Maureen’s to pay Nemi in future? Important for mistress and wife to be good friends? God in Heaven! I must have misunderstood.
No, you bloody didn’t. That’s what she bloody said.
Eventually, he had come to the office. Before dawn. Bloody hell, he had thought all morning and now he had two bloody women to contend with. “Look, Maureen, I’m sorry I lied,” he said lamely, “but…well, I don’t quite know what else to say.”
“Dinna’ fash’ yoursel’, these things happen.” She smiled.
“Eh? You’re not pis—sorry, you’re not angry?”
“Nay, laddie, no’ this time,” she said so nicely, “no’ till we’ve had a wee chat.”
There was no threat in her voice or manner that he could detect, she still held his arm tenderly, yet his innermost being screamed danger, and for God’s sake hold your tongue, say nothing. “Wee chat?” he heard himself ask.
“Aye.” Then there was a deafening silence even though the wind was clattering roof shingles and shutters, church bells, steam whistles from the harbor, dogs barking.
Hold your tongue, two can play in this negotiation, he cautioned himself. “Aye? What’s that mean?”
Maureen was feeling her way carefully, enjoying the learning—and teaching—process. This was merely the first of a never-ending series of confrontations.
“All men are dreadful, Maureen,” her mother had said, amongst other counsel. “Some worse than others, they’re all liars though a canny wife can always see through her man’s lies. In the beginning husbands are sweet and send your head to the stars, their warmth and lovemaking, and silly little kindnesses. In the beginning.
“Then come the bairns, the children, and looking after the home, most always wi’out enough money. By this time you’re inclined to let yoursel’ go in dress an’ your hair and person. It’s awful difficult with bairns, and lack of sleep an’ being mortal tired, so soon thy man turns his back in bed, begins to snore, aye, that’s na’ a wee difficulty if you canna’ learn to close your ears tight. Then they go awenching … but dinna’ fash’ yoursel’, it’s a temporary game for them an’ willna’ last, and if you’re a canny wife, thy man will always come back—you’ve always got the bairns, and you’ve got God. Remember it’s no’ an easy task to earn the daily bread, as he should remember it’s also no’ an easy task to raise bairns and keep the home cozy, but they never will remember.
“Thy father, he’s nay different with his women or woman in India, but he’s home now and his problem’s different. I should have known he was already wedded to his Regiment when we wedded. At least this Jamie, he’s no’ in the Services, that’s terrible hard for a wife to compete against.”
“How do you become a canny wife, Ma?”
“I wish I knew, lassie, I wish, but some rules are certain: choose thy man cannily, a good hold on thy tongue will help, a good stiff broom and a wild temper if used shrewdly will help, lots of understanding and forgiveness all the time, and a warm, soft bosom for the poor wee laddie to cry on …”
“Wee chat?” she heard Jamie say again, his voice choked, and she almost laughed aloud.
She kept her smile and demeanor forgiving, the broomstick and temper ready in case. “I learned about the Yoshiwara on the boat.” She left that hanging and he snapped up the bait.
“Gornt told you? Or Hoag? It was him? That idiot.”
“No, it was your fine Captain Strongbow—and Dr. Hoag’s no idiot, lad. I asked Strongbow how you all managed to stop from going mad without lady friends, was it the same as in India, or China?” She laughed remembering how difficult it had been to get him to talk openly. Wusky’s wonderful, she thought, blessing her father for teaching her to drink, when necessary. “I think your Yoshiwara’s very sensible.”
He was going to say, You do? This time he said nothing. Her silence tortured him. When she was ready she said, “Tomorrow’s Sunday.”
His head reeled, unprepared for the non sequitur. “Yes, I … yes, I suppose …yes, it’s Sunday. Why?”
“This afternoon I thought we could go to the Reverend Tweet, I hope he’s not as silly as his name, and we should ask him to publish the banns.”
He blinked. “What?”
“Aye, banns, Jamie.” She laughed. “You’ve no’ forgotten banns must be read three consecutive Sundays, have you?”
“No, but I told you I’d written and said th—”
“That was when I was there, I’m no’ there anymore. I’m here and I love you,” she said, and stopped and looked up at him and saw he was fine and what she desired in life and, all at once, her control went with the wind. “Jamie darlin’, we’re engaged and I believe we should marry because I will make the best wife a man ever had, I promise I promise I promise and no’ just because I’m here, I’ve loved thee from the first moment and now is a grand time to marry, I know it, I’ll go back, back to Scotland and never … if you want me to go back I will, by the next boat, but I love you, Jamie. I swear I’ll leave if you want me to.” Tears sprang into her eyes and she brushed them aside. “Sorry, it’s just the wind, laddie.” But it wasn’t the wind, all guile vanished, her spirit open and naked for him to see. “I just love you, Jamie …” His arms went around her and she buried her head in his shoulder, feeling more terrible than she had ever been, desperate for his love, tears pouring.
When her terror had abated, pushed by his warmth, she heard him saying nice things to her, mixed with the wind and the surf, that he loved her and wanted her to be happy, and not to worry and be sad but this afternoon would be too soon, he had so much work to do for the company that it was going to be hard to start it and keep it alive.
“Dinna’ worry about the new company business, Jamie, Mrs. Struan said that she’d—” She stopped, horrified. She had not intended to tell him but it was too late now as his arms tightened and then held her away from him.
“She said what?”
“It doesna’ matter. Let’s …”
“What did she say to you? What!” His face was grim, eyes penetrating. “She told you she was sending me money?”
“No, no, she didna’, she said … she just said you were a good trader and you’d be a success. Let’s eat, I’m starv—”
“What did she say? Exactly.”
“I told you. Let’s have lu—”
“Tell me what she said, by God. Tell the truth, exactly! She told you about the money, didn’t she?”
“No, no’ exactly.” She looked away, angry at herself.
“The truth!” He held her shoulders. “Now!”
“All right.” She
Again she dried her eyes and took out a handkerchief and blew her nose and then, not knowing what to do with her hands, put her arm in his and her hand found its way into his coat pocket. “Let’s walk, Jamie, easier to talk walking, it’s cold. Mrs. Struan asked me to sit down and told me you’d been dismissed and I asked why and she told me and I told her that was no’ fair, no’ your problem that her son was a wee devil and crazy in love with an unacceptable adventuress called Angelique—I don’t know about adventuress but having seen Angelique, Jamie, I can understand why her son or any man would be in love with her, and having met his ma I understand why there was anger between them ….”
A gust pulled at their hats and they held on to them, then she went on, “We … we had a row, dinna forget this was days before we heard about his death. It was a terrible row, Jamie. Soon we were both on our feet and I’m afraid I lost my temper, you’d have been ashamed of me and I used some terrible words of my da’.”
He stopped and gaped at her. “You had a row with Tess?”
“Aye, never in my life so bad, not even with my sisters and brother in secret. I was na’ very brave about it, but her unfairness made me angry and it spilled out and I gave her …” Maureen’s good nature and sense of humor returned and she laughed nervously. “Och, it was a Glasgow cat fight, like two fishwives at the docks, ready to tear each other’s hair out. At one time someone came in and she threw them out and … So, Miss Ross? she said, lips like a gillie’s dirk, both of us panting and no’ at all friendly, What do you think I should do? Do? I said, First you give Mr. McFay a handsome parting bonus he’s earned a dozen times over during his years of service, you give him business to start his business and you write him a nice note.”
“You said that? To Tess?”
“Aye, I did.” She saw and heard the disbelief and dispelled that instantly. “I swear this’s the God’s truth, Jamie, I swear it. I was no’ going to tell you but you insisted and I wouldna’ lie. By the Lord God, I swear this’s the truth!”
“Yes, sorry. Please go on.”
“Dinna be sorry, laddie, I didna’ believe it mysel’ at the time. After I said my piece, not kindly at all, Mrs. Struan laughed—she laughed and said, Sit down, all right, but no nice note. That’s no’ good enough, I said. What’s fair compensation? I asked. Her smile vanished and she said, A thousand guineas. She spat it out just like Da’ when he’s in a rage. Poppycock, by God, says I. Ten thousand.” Maureen stopped and looked at him searchingly. “I had to settle for five. Was that all right? I dinna’ know if that was enough, is it?”
“You settled? You settled for five?”
“Aye, it took time and more curse words … that night I asked God’s forgiveness for the curses, more of my da’s words. I hope that was fair, Jamie, along with extra business … and she did agree no bad acts, to be business friends, I thought that important. After she agreed, she threw in a free passage with her icy smile, Go find your Mr. McFay, with my compliments.” Maureen glanced at the surf a moment, collecting her thoughts. Another little nervous shrug, then she stared up at him, artlessly. “That’s what happened, but it was for you, no’ for me or for us, for you, I didna’ mean to mention it.”
“Jamie! M’ssross.” Lunkchurch had reeled out of his office and was standing with them before they knew it. He greeted them effusively, nearly asphyxiating her with the smell of whisky, invited them to dinner that night and reeled away.
“He’s always drunk by two o’clock, but he’s all right,” Jamie said. “He won’t remember the invitation or our refusal.” This time he took her hand and put it in his coat pocket for warmth and held it and walked on. “Maureen, I th—”
“Before you say another word, let me finish. I didna’ mean to tell you about her and me, it slipped out. I’m deeply sorry, I swear to God I didna’ mean to tell you, God’s truth, no’ when we were talking, serious, about … talking about us, you and me. Please believe that, God’s truth.”
“I believe you, I do, no need to worry on that score, and Tess wrote to me, kept her word, sent the money, more than I’ve had in my whole life, enough to start and all because of you.”
Tears of remorse began. “No’ because of me, Jamie. You’d been wronged and Mrs. Struan owed it to you—I would no’ have told you but—but you wanted me to. And you were right to be angry, I was wrong to say, ‘this afternoon,’ please forgive me, it was just…you’re right, this afternoon is too soon, you’re right and I was wrong to suggest that. Can we wait, Jamie, please? Can we wait, say a week or two, a month, see how you like me? Please?”
“Now you listen,” Jamie said, and gave her hand a squeeze. “I like you too much as it is and no, I don’t want you to go and yes, we will wait a little while and no, I’m not angry, and yes, I believe you and thank you with all my heart and no, you weren’t wrong to make a suggestion. Let’s think about it and talk over dinner. Sparkles, just you and me, eh?”
Before she knew what she was doing she reached up and kissed him in thanks, the use of her nickname a harbinger of joyous portent. Her hand went back to his and both into his pocket. “You’re bonny, Jamie, that’s the truth and I love you and …” She was going to add, And you dinna have to say that until you’re ready. But she did not. She withdrew from that precipice. “You’re a bonny laddie.”
“And you’re a bonny lassie,” he said, more calm about her than he had been for years, the ache and guilt no longer to the fore. What about marriage? he asked himself, for the first time without a shudder. Absolutely a man should be married and have children, at the correct time. I’m not opposed to marriage, far from it. When? When the business has settled and we’re in profit? She’s terrific, clever, good-looking, good family, patient and faithful and loves me, incredible that she stood up to Tess and did what she did, show’s how smart she is. It might work. Do I love her? I like her enormously….
I’m thirty-nine. And trim and fit, and should be married—should have married before. She’s twenty-eight, young for her age too, so she must know her own mind, and there’s no doubt she sparkles.
Last night Marlowe and Pallidar noticed too, noticed a little too much! That randy bastard Settry wouldn’t leave her alone, not that I minded—one little jerk of my head and the darling came a-running. He squeezed her arm, liking that.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m glad you enjoyed the party last night,” he said, but he was thinking, in three or four months, no need to hurry, not a bad idea. “Here we are.”
They turned into the clubhouse forecourt. MacStruan was talking to Dmitri on the steps and he saw them look up and Dmitri waved cheerily. The ice slammed back into his guts. Nemi! When Nemi gets the bit between her teeth …
God Almighty, he thought aghast, how the hell do I cope with Nemi, the Yoshiwara and Sparkles? Can’t be done. Must be done. What was it she said about the Yoshiwara? She wasn’t pissed off this time … “no’ till we’ve had a wee chat.” Chat?
“Are you cold, Jamie darling?”
“No, no, just fine.”
“Phillip, tell Captain Abeh again, I’m sorry but Hiraga cannot at the moment be found.” Sir William stood with his back to the fireplace in one of the Legation reception rooms, Tyrer, Babcott and Abeh just arrived from Yedo. It was dusk. “We’re still looking everywhere. And Phillip, wipe that smug look off your face, do you really want to irritate him?”
Abeh was angered. So was Sir William. He had done everything he could, the Settlement had been combed and soldiers were again going through Drunk Town and the village. The Yoshiwara was more difficult. Weapons were not allowed, access to Inns was almost impossible without
“He says he cannot go back without Hiraga and Hiraga was promised to Lord Yoshi today.”
Sir William bit back the oath. Instead he said sweetly, “Please ask him to wait. At the guard house. Surely Hiraga will be found soon, if he is still here.”
“He says, Still here? If not here, where is he?”
“If I knew I would certainly fetch him for Lord Yoshi. Perhaps he has escaped, to Yedo or Kanagawa or somewhere.” Even Sir William was shocked at the black rage in Abeh’s face who spat out some Japanese, turned on his heel and stomped out.
“Rude bugger!”
“He said, Hiraga had better be found, Sir William.” Tyrer rubbed his unshaven face, feeling filthy and anxious to have a bath, massage and siesta before Fujiko. Most of his fatigue had immediately dissolved by the joyous news that Hiraga was not locked up and in irons. “Have to feel sorry for Abeh, sir. He can’t go back without Nak—without Hiraga, more than his life’s worth.”
“Well, that’s his problem. Have you any idea where Nakama would be?”
“No, sir, if he’s not in the village or the Yoshiwara.”
“You might try and find out, obviously it’s important.” Sir William looked up at Babcott. “Now, more important. George, the patient? Was it Anjo?”
“Yes.”
“Tallyho! Phillip, you look exhausted, no need for you to wait, we can talk later. George can fill me in. If Nakama-Hiraga appears you bloody clap him in irons at once. At once!”
“Yes, sir, thank you, sir. Before I go, can I ask what happened in Hong Kong?” The moment they had arrived both had asked, noticing anxiously that Prancing Cloud had returned, but Sir William had said, First Abeh.
“It’s all quiet in Hong Kong, all quiet here, thank God.” He told them about the funeral, Hoag returning and why. “The reason’s supposed to be confidential but it’s common knowledge. So it’s a waiting game, Tess is waiting, it seems Angelique has agreed to wait, so Hoag says, not that she can do much else. She is, or she’s not.”