Gai-Jin (176 page)

“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 breaking and entering, a hideous idea and bound to create an international incident. If he did it, then samurai at their Gates would insist on the same right. In the beginning of the Settlement it had been agreed, so long as there was no rioting, the Yoshiwara was to be left alone to float and to serve.

“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.”

Babcott said, “If she’s not she’ll know in a few days. And so will we.”

“Christ,” Tyrer muttered. “What happens: if she is or if she’s not?”

Sir William shrugged. “We have to wait too. Now off you go, Phillip. Whisky or brandy, George? Do you mind bringing me up-to-date now—you’re not too tired?”

“No.” The two men were alone. “Brandy, please. Yedo was very interesting.”

“Health! And?”

“Health. Before Yedo, do we know more about Hong Kong?”

Sir William smiled. The men were old friends, and Babcott Deputy Minister. “It went perfectly. Yes. Tess wrote privately to thank me. Most of it I can tell you now: Hoag brought three letters for Angelique, she doesn’t know this, by the way. One Hoag gave her at once and told me there was no noticeable reaction one way or the other, no clue, he presumed it was just asking her to wait. Tess confirmed the contents of that letter to me, that she proposed a lull until it was established if Angelique was pregnant or not. If Angelique has her period, he gives her one letter, if not he waits to the second month to make sure and he gives her the other. Hoag swore he does not know the contents, nor did Tess reveal them in her letter to me.”

He sipped his whisky, his face set. “One issue Tess wrote that, I’m afraid, indicates her thinking: Struan’s solicitors are drafting a brief to nullify in court the ‘Ludicrous Ceremony’—she puts that in caps—whatever the legality or illegality, whatever the pregnancy result, and to contest any will if one is found there or in the Japans.”

“My God! Poor Angelique … how awful!”

“An emphatic yes to that. My letter asking for forbearance had no effect. Bloody, eh?” Sir William stalked to his desk and brought out a dispatch.
“This is what I really wanted to discuss—highly confidential, of course.”

Babcott turned up the oil lamp. Daylight was fading fast. The Governor of Hong Kong wrote formally:

Babcott whistled tonelessly. At length he said, “They’re a bunch of idiots, the whole bloody lot.”

Sir William laughed. “I rather thought the same. But having said that, what do you think?”

“‘Immediate prudent action’? That’s a negation.”

“Diplomatic verbiage to cover their tails, obviously.”

“We have the indemnity, we …”

“The bullion was advanced on Sanjiro’s behalf. It was a loan, not a payment by the guilty party.”

“True. And both murderers are dead, probably.”

“Yes, by chance and not one hundred percent certain and not as punishment for the crime.”

“Well, yes. We …” Babcott looked at him and sighed. “What do I think? Between us I think you’ve already decided to launch a punitive strike against Sanjiro, probably at Kagoshima, particularly as Yoshi gave you tacit approval.”

“Possible approval. Is the dispatch and are my answers enough to convince Ketterer a strike, if any, is authorized?”

“No doubt about that, they’ve given you directives. The dispatch clearly makes it obligatory, however stupid and however much I disapprove of it.”

“Because you’re a doctor?”

“Yes.”

“If you ever have to take charge, George, I hope you’ll forget that you are.”

“You don’t have to say that, William. I know on which side my bread is buttered. Meanwhile
Put not your trust in princes, bureaucrats or generals, they will plead expedience while spilling your blood from a safe distance.”
He raised his glass. “To London. Christ, I’m tired.”

“Meanwhile remember that Machiavelli also said,
The safety of the State is the overriding duty of the ruler
, or some such platitude.” His eyes crinkled. “Now Anjo.”

Babcott told him. And being asked, gave his considered diagnosis. “Six months. A year, no more. Subject to my tests.”

“Interesting.” Sir William thought long and hard. Outside night had settled, the fleet bedding down. He closed the curtains against the drafts, went over to the fire and poked a blaze. “Putting that aside for the moment, my inclination is to order an immediate naval presence off Kagoshima, immediate bombardment if Sanjiro gives us no satisfaction—as much for Yoshi’s benefit, Anjo and his Council of Elders as for scallywag Sanjiro, especially Yoshi.”

“Sending the fleet there leaves the Settlement naked. What about the reports of samurai quietly surrounding us—we saw a great number around the Tokaidō.”

“That’s the risk.”

Babcott looked back at Sir William steadily and said no more. The decision was not his. He would happily obey like everyone else, insisting on being part of the expedition. He got up. “Think I’ll nap before dinner, didn’t sleep much last night. By the way, Phillip did a cracking good job. I’ll start my tests later and let you know.”

“Do you want to have a late bite to eat? Nine o’clock? Good, and thanks for Anjo, that’s very important. That makes Yoshi even more important. If he can be trusted. If.”

“In this land that’s a major problem.” Then Babcott said, still sickened by Tess’s attitude, “Rotten about the ‘court case.’ That’s going to be messy for Angelique, so unfair, isn’t it?”

“Has life ever been fair, old man?”

At dinnertime, Angelique knocked on the tai-pan’s office door, dressed to go out. “Albert?”

“Come in! I say, I love your hat.” It was an elegant dinner hat, discreet, still suitable for mourning, dark blue, yet made chic with a few silk flowers she had tucked into the band.