The Geisha Who Could Feel No Pain (Secrets From The Hidden House Book 2)

by India Millar

  I sponged her front, drying her carefully with a towel. It seemed to me that she was enjoying the wash, and I felt guilty, leaving her to lie in her own sweat for days. I turned her over gently, and settled her on her stomach, flicking aside her long plaits to reveal her back.

  I sat back on my heels, frozen with shock.

  Auntie had a tattoo. Between her shoulder blades, where it would always be hidden when she was dressed. A rearing dragon, claws out to snag the unwary. The colors had faded over the long years, the reds now almost pink, the yellows dimmed. But it was exactly the same dragon that I had seen on Midori No Me, only much smaller.

  My hand held the sponge over Auntie’s back. It dripped on her spine, and I rubbed the water away quickly. But no matter where I touched Auntie, my gaze returned to that dragon time and time again.

  It was Akira’s symbol. That was why he had inflicted it on Midori, to mark her as his creature forever more. She had told me that he had the same dragon tattooed on his back. It was the mark of his yakuza. The emblem that had been passed down to all the members of his organization for generations.

  But he had told Midori that she was the only woman he had ever honored with his mark. And now I found that Auntie bore the same mark of allegiance to Akira. My mind reeled.

  Akira had tattooed Midori for love. Or at least, his idea of love. But Auntie must have been at least thirty years older than Akira. As far as we all knew, she had not even known the yakuza until he had bought the Green Tea House and the Hidden House off her. And this tattoo was ancient, she had obviously borne it on her skin for many, many years.

  Then Auntie moaned and shuffled and I dried her and wrapped her up in her robe as quickly as I could.

  I know it was just a coincidence, but it seemed to me that after I saw her tattoo, Auntie became more restless. She slept, but fidgeted in her sleep so that I was constantly tucking the bed clothes around her and pushing the pillows back behind her head. And instead of moaning, she began to murmur.

  Just whispers at first, so quiet that I could not make out what she was saying. She chuckled occasionally, as if she was laughing at a remark only she could hear. Gradually, she spoke louder, and her words began to make more sense.

  And I realized that in her own disturbed mind, Auntie was a young girl again.

  Although her eyes stayed closed, she began to blink. The part of her mouth that could move lifted into a smile. She stretched her head to show off her throat. My heart ached for her as the wattles of age smoothed out and her neck was once more long and slender. Now and then, she turned her head to one side as if she was listening to an unheard voice. My heart ached for her as I realized she was flirting with an unseen presence.

  And she began to speak.

  The first time, I actually turned my head, thinking one of the geisha had come into the room without me hearing them enter. Then I realized that the voice was coming from Auntie’s mouth. But this sweet, chattering voice was never, ever Auntie. Or at least, not the Auntie I knew.

  We were all far too in awe of Auntie to even consider what her life had been before she owned the Hidden House. Now, I realized that many years ago, Auntie must have been a geisha herself. And listening to her, I understood that she had probably been an exceptional geisha at that. Her every word was sweet, the tiniest movement of her head graceful. And then she began to sing, and my mouth dropped open.

  The words were nonsense, a muddle of many traditional songs. But her voice was beautiful, no longer the cracked, crotchety voice of an old woman. I listened entranced until she ran out of energy and fell asleep again, literally in the middle of a word. I smoothed my fingers over her face and decided that my massage was doing some good. I was sure her mouth was less lop-sided than it had been.

  I took the chance to have a nap myself. Sleep was slow in coming. I tried to remember what Akira had called Auntie what felt like half a lifetime ago. What was it? Honami? Hisae? It had started with an H. I was almost asleep when it came to me. Hana, that was it. “Flower.” A lovely, graceful name. I sat up, leaned on the edge of the bed, and spoke very softly.

  “Hana.”

  Auntie stirred in her sleep. She smiled and whispered, “Akira-san. Akira my love. I’ve been waiting for you. Have you come back to me at last?”

  12

  They say the sky can

  Rain frogs. I have never seen

  It. So is it false?

  I had no time to think about Auntie’s shocking words.

  In spite of my curiosity, exhaustion claimed me and I was asleep quickly. In my dreams, I saw Akira chasing Ken with a sword. I woke up with a start just as Akira was raising his blade to strike, my heart beating so hard I could hear it. Auntie was moaning again, and I reached automatically for her medicine. When I poured it, I found I had only about half a measure.

  How did I not notice? I cursed my own neglect and shouted for a maid. When she came in—reluctantly, I noticed—I gave her the doctor’s paper and told her to run—run! Not walk!—to the druggist and come back as quickly as she could with Auntie’s medicine. She seemed quite pleased to be ordered out of the Hidden House, and in spite of my shout to her retreating back to hurry, I guessed she would dawdle.

  She did. By the time she got back, I had managed to persuade Auntie to sip a whole cup full of broth without spilling a drop. I glared at the maid as I snatched the bottle off her.

  “The druggist was very busy, Mineko-san,” she muttered. “I had to wait for a long time.”

  I dismissed her with a flick of my head and carefully poured some of the new medicine in a sake cup.

  It was the wrong draught. I knew straight away. It was a lighter green color and not as thick as the old stuff. I tasted a little, and found it was not bitter at all. Strung to screaming pitch, I called for the maid to come back.

  “Which druggist did you go to?” I demanded.

  She looked at her feet and shuffled. She was going to lie to me, I knew she was.

  “I went to the one you told me to go to,” she said sullenly. I waited, saying nothing. Her shuffling increased until finally she said, “I did go to him. But he was very, very busy and you said it was important that I got back as quickly as I could, so I went to another shop that was almost empty. The one that is in Cherry Tree Avenue.”

  I knew the one she meant. I had passed it many times when I was at the kabuki. The druggist who owned it had the reputation of being a drunk. No wonder he had given the maid the wrong mixture!

  It was no good getting angry with her. She might, I supposed, be telling the truth, although I doubted it. I would have bet my new jade bracelet that she had dawdled about and then had panicked when she had found the druggist I had told her to go to was busy.

  “This medicine is wrong. Auntie needs the draught the doctor prescribed.”

  Her face brightened at the thought of another trip out and I made my mind up. I couldn’t wait.

  “Go ask the twins to come and see me.”

  The maid shuffled out reluctantly.

  I explained to the twins what had happened and asked if they would sit with Auntie while I was gone. She was asleep, and I had a vague hope that if she awoke and found both girls with her, she might be confused enough to be still for a while. It seemed to me that for the moment at least she was living in the past and had no memory of any of us geisha, not even me. She had called me Miku once, near enough my own name to give me hope, and it had seemed to mean something to her, so I had not corrected her.

  The twins promptly sat down, one on each side of the bed, and I ran to change into my kimono and obi. Ken stared at me as I went to the door.

  “Do you need me to come with you?”

  I hesitated. I longed to be alone with him, if being in the crowd of the Hidden World could be said to be alone. But at least we could have talked and I would have felt safe in the bustling streets. But he was needed in the Hidden House, to keep the geisha safe and to repel would-be patrons. And if Akira came back, I shuddered at the
thought of what he might say if he found Ken and me gone and the girls alone.

  “No.” I saw the hurt in his eyes and smiled. “You’re needed here. I won’t have any problems. I know the Floating World as well as anybody. Look, Kiku is coming with me. She’ll guard me!”

  I smiled at him and slipped out of the door quickly, allowing myself the luxury of one touch to his arm. It was raining, a nasty, persistent drizzle that had kept a lot of the normal mass of people who crowded the streets inside, and I almost ran through the odd quiet of the Floating World with Kiku scampering at my heels. I was grateful I had put my oldest kimono on. Without my makeup and in my old clothes, I hoped that people would assume I was a maid myself, out on an errand for my mistress. If anybody thought I was a geisha, I would have aroused interested stares at the least.

  In spite of the lack of bustle elsewhere, the druggist’s shop was, as the maid had said, full. I waited with as much patience as I could muster as he conferred with customers in a confidential whisper, finally weighing out herbs, strangely colored powders, and in one case what appeared to be tiny dried seahorses before grinding everything to a fine powder and pouring the end mixture into paper cones. When my time came, I handed over the doctor’s paper and asked for two bottles. I didn’t dare run out again.

  “Ah. The poor lady has suffered a seizure?” I nodded, impatient to be off. “This is the best medicine for her. She is confined to bed, of course?”

  “Yes.” My reply was not polite, but I was in a hurry to get back to Auntie. But it appeared that the druggist was in no hurry at all.

  “Wait.” Wait? What was he talking about? Auntie needed her medicine! “He turned his back to me and studied the shelf behind him before making his choice and handing a small pot to me. “If she lies still for a long time, then her skin will rub and become sore. Massage a little of this into her back and hips every day. It will stop the problem before it begins.”

  He waved my offer of extra money away, and I scuttled out of the shop feeling I had appeared very ungrateful for his kindness. But I had to hurry!

  The rain had stopped while I was waiting for the medicine, but I hardly noticed. At least Kiku was happier. Instead of following close by my heels, she frisked off, sniffing at every step I took. I turned a corner, and suddenly realized she had gone.

  “Oh, Kiku!” I spoke out loud, and only realized I had done so when a passing man grinned at me. I hurried back around the corner, making Kiku’s normal “tutt-tutt-tutt” signal to come to me. There was no sign of her, and I was beginning to panic when I saw her fussing around the tight skirt of a gaijin who was standing on the opposite side of the road. I called to Kiku sharply, and she frisked across to me, narrowly avoiding being run over by a passing cart.

  The gaijin straightened up and for a moment she reminded me of Midori. The next second, I was scooping Kiku up and bustling off, wondering why I had ever thought she resembled my lost friend. They were both much the same height, but this woman’s hair—or at least, what I could see of it beneath her hat—was as red as a fox’s fur. And her skin was so white it was almost as translucent as the finest china. In the quick glimpse I had of her, I couldn’t see her eyes—her veil came down almost to her mouth. Were they as green as Midori’s eyes? I had no idea. Perhaps the resemblance had been something in the way she stood, the way she held her head? Perhaps.

  Then I recollected the sturdy little Japanese maid who had stood behind the gaijin, clutching her mistress’ parcels as her gaze fixed subserviently on the floor, and my lips tightened in anger. It had lately become fashionable amongst the gaijin to imitate our ways. They had not yet taken to wearing a kimono rather than a skirt, nor, it seemed, did they approve of mixed bathing, but our maids had said that they had seen many of the gaijin women in Edo with a Japanese maid following at their heels like a puppy.

  I shrugged off the encounter without a second thought and was relieved when I returned and the twins said Auntie was still asleep. I had to wake her to get her to take her medicine, which seemed a shame, but I told her firmly it was good for her. I made her drink more when she pretended to swallow and waited until I had put the cup down before she spat it out, giggling like a naughty child.

  I took my place back at her side. When I heard Auntie talking, it was very late at night and dark. I struggled out of sleep and sat up, nearly screaming with fright as I saw a man’s figure seated on the other side of her bed. Then the sleep left my eyes and I saw Akira put his finger to his lips and bend his head to listen to Auntie, courteously, as if she was making perfect sense.

  She was crooning something. A traditional children’s song, one I hadn’t heard since I was a child myself.

  Do make tomorrow a sunny day

  Like the sky in a dream sometime

  If it's sunny I'll give you a golden bell

  I remembered my eldest sister singing it to me when I was very young. If I was surprised to hear Auntie singing it now, I was shocked beyond belief when Akira joined in, singing the same three lines with Auntie over and over again until she fell asleep, snuffling happily to herself.

  Akira smiled at me, stretched, and walked out without saying a single word.

  I waited until I was sure that Auntie was really asleep before I lay down again myself.

  But my sleep was uneasy as my dreams were haunted by a gaijin woman who spoke to me with Midori’s voice.

  13

  I cannot see the

  Water in the well, or the

  Bottom of the well.

  I thought I must have dreamed seeing Akira when I woke up.

  Auntie took her medicine quietly and allowed me to rub the ointment the druggist had given to me into her back without protest, so I wondered. I thought she was watching me, but whenever I looked straight into her face, her eyes were innocent.

  I knew I had not been dreaming as soon as I left her room.

  The maids were scurrying about with buckets and brooms, making a great to do of cleaning everywhere. I felt a twinge of guilt as I realized we had all been too worried about Auntie to care about a bit of dust. Bigger was lounging in the doorway to the main reception room; he winked at me when I saw him and gestured with his head for me to enter.

  Akira. Who else had I been expecting? He was cross-legged on the tatami, a crouching maid serving him tea. Ken stood behind him, still as a statue. I avoided Ken’s eyes with great care. If Akira could read my mind, then surely he could see through my expression.

  “Akira-san.” I bowed carefully, feeling my back reluctant to move with stiffness. Moving Auntie constantly had taken its toll on my muscles.

  “Mineko-chan,” Akira said cordially. He patted the tatami at his side. “Do sit down and take tea with me. I understand that you have been looking after Auntie constantly. You must be exhausted.”

  I sat down and accepted the tea from the hovering maid gratefully. When had I last eaten or drank? Yesterday? The day before? The hours blurred in my mind and I suddenly realized I was hungry and thirsty. And tired. I put my hand down to the matting to stop myself from falling.

  For a second, I hoped it was Ken’s hand on my shoulder, but when I opened my eyes I saw Akira’s face close to mine. His cold grey eyes were staring at me. I couldn’t decide if he was angry or amused or perhaps just bored, his face calm and expressionless. He took the empty tea cup from my hand and passed it to the maid to refill.

  “Ken-san tells me that you have not left Auntie’s side for a moment since she had her seizure.”

  “Only to get her medicine from the druggist.” I decided to be absolutely honest. Akira had a nasty way of picking up on the smallest evasion.

  “Auntie is grateful, I’m sure. When she recovers, she will be able to tell you so herself. But in the meantime, I will speak for her. You are tired Mineko-chan. You need a rest from the Hidden House, I think.”

  It took a moment for his words to mean anything. When they did, I tensed, immediately worried.

  “I am well, thank you, Akira-sa
n.” I spoke carefully. “Auntie has looked after us for many years. It is a pleasure to be able to pay her back when she needs it.”

  Akira threw back his head and laughed. “You have become quite the diplomat, Mineko.” He wiped his streaming eyes with the back of his hand. “Isn’t that so, Ken-san?”

  I kept my eyes down, refusing to look at either Ken or Akira. It was safer that way.

  “But I can see that you are weary, Mineko. It would be unworthy of me not to reward you for your care of…of Auntie.”

  Had I imagined it, or did he almost say “Hana” rather than “Auntie?”

  “I think I shall take you away from here. At least for a while. Pack up your things. You’re coming with me.”

  I froze. Words chased around my brain, but my tongue was thick and refused to speak. Go with Akira? Was I to take Midori’s place after all? I felt sick and barely managed to mumble something to him.

  “You do me great honor, Akira-san. But I cannot leave the Hidden House. Auntie needs me.”

  “I think that perhaps Auntie is better than she pretends to be. She is old, Mineko. And the old can become as cunning as the fox. She is enjoying your attention, but it will not hurt her now to be nursed by the other geisha or even the maids.”

  I raised my head and stared at him in surprise. Surely he was wrong. How did he know? He had spent hardly any time with Auntie while I had been at her side for days and days. And why would Auntie want to keep me? I had never been her favorite.

  Akira smiled at me, and I was silent. He had made his mind up. There was no point in me trying to argue.

  I managed to exchange one glance with Ken as I got to my feet and wished I hadn’t. His face was alive with longing. I thanked the gods that Akira had turned his back. He would have known there was something between Ken and me with one look at my lover’s face.

  I walked behind Akira, with a maid behind me in her turn carrying my bundle of belongings and tugging Kiku on her lead. There was little enough for her to carry. Akira had instructed that I bring only my personal things—my hair brushes and combs, my makeup, any ornament that I particularly liked. I would need nothing else, he insisted.