Gai-Jin (175 page)

This new office was in the
Guardian
building, near to Drunk Town, on the High Street. It was much smaller than the one in Struan’s but it had a pleasant view of the bay, so important for the trader to be able to follow the coming and going of ships. Unfurnished except for a desk and three chairs, half a dozen filing cabinets. Piles of books and boxes, sheaves of blank paper, pens and new ledgers that he had scrounged until his order from Hong Kong arrived, were scattered everywhere. Heaped on his desk were more papers, letters, orders and a big mailing announcing the launch of his new
company and requests for business. All had to be made ready for
Prancing Cloud’s
departure. “Did you sleep well?”

He sealed the letter, hardly hearing her. “Yes, thank you, did you?” and picked up another of the mailings.

These were being copied by two Portuguese clerks in their office down the corridor, next to the printing shop. The clerks had been lent by MacStruan until he could make permanent arrangements. “Albert’s a good fellow, isn’t he? I said we might be late,” he remarked absently. If it had been up to him he would have skipped the Club and asked one of the clerks to make him a sandwich, or ordered some of the Chinese food that they ordered daily from Drunk Town. Half an hour later he put down his pen. “All set?” he asked brightly.

“Aye.”

“What’s up?” he asked, seeing her look.

“Weel, laddie, I’d hoped we could be alone for lunch, there’s a lot to talk about—obviously there was no time last night. It was a bonny party though, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was. The Cossack dancers were stunning. We’ve lots of time to talk—sorry, didn’t think it was important.”

“Angelique was stunning too, aye, and many of your friends, Marlowe and Settry!” She laughed lightly.

Relieved, his guard came down and he picked up his hat and coat and opened the door. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

“You went out last night, after we’d said good night.”

His guard came up too late to prevent the guilty flush. “Yes, er, yes, I did.”

“I knocked on your door but there was no answer—I just wanted to talk, I wasn’t tired. You said you were tired.”

“Well, yes, I was, but then I wasn’t. Shall we go?”

“Aye, I’m hungry.” They went out onto the promenade. Few people were about. The day was not the best, sea choppy and wind cutting. “It’s no’ as bad as Glasgow at this time of the year,” she said pleasantly, taking his arm.

“That’s true, but the cold won’t last, soon it’ll be the best time, the spring and autumn are best.” He was breathing better now that the subject had been dropped. “Spring and autumn are the best.”

“You went to the Yoshiwara?” she asked pleasantly.

An ice pick leapt from his testicles to his heart and back again and a thousand answers presented themselves, the best of which was, If I want to go to the Yoshiwara, by God, I will go and we aren’t married and even if I was … and I told you I didn’t want to be married, at least not yet, not now that the new business has a chance. Confidently he opened his mouth to say all that but for some reason his voice came out strangled and limp: “I, er, yes, I did, but th—”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Look, Maureen. There’s some—”

“I know about the Yoshiwara, laddie, and about men,” she said matter-of-fact and kindly. “Did you have a good time?”

He stopped, rocked at the gentle voice and manner. “I, well, I suppose … but you see, Maur—”

“It’s too cold to stop, Jamie, dear.” In a friendly fashion, she took his arm again and forced him to walk on again and continued, “Good, so you had a good time. Why did you no’ tell me? And why tell a fib about being tired?”

“Well, because …” Again a dozen answers, but his mouth only issued, “Because it’s obvious, for goodness’ sake. I didn’t want …” He couldn’t say, I didn’t want to hurt you because I’d made a date, wanted to see Nemi yet didn’t want to, didn’t want you to know about her and actually I had a dreadful time.

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 took a deep breath and in a gathering rush said, “It was this way, Jamie, exactly. When I went to Struan’s, to the Edifice on the promenade, to ask where you’d be, if you were in the Japans or where, I was told to wait and then she sent for me, Mrs. Struan did, to the great office overlooking all Hong Kong, but such a sadness to her and such strength, poor lady. Let me be a moment.”

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!”