by Gai-Jin(Lit)
--and about Nakama, poor fellow.
Poor fellow? He's an assassin, the worst kind. I never felt that, never once did
I feel threatened. He must be in Drunk Town or somewhere in the Yoshiwara. If the news flashed to us, someone must have whispered to him and he fled.
Damn it! Now I'll have to cut Tyrer in or
Johann...
Voices in the foyer broke into his revery.
A polyglot of voices: MacStruan,
Vargas, Hoag, servants bustling around.
No need to greet them. I'll be summoned soon enough. Depressed, he continued with his work, almost done now.
"Jamie!"
He looked around. And was paralyzed.
Maureen. His Maureen in the doorway!
Maureen Ross. Navy blue winter bonnet, blue eyes peeping out above the folds of her heavy woolen head scarf. Navy blue topcoat over a dark blue dress. Maureen
Ross, twenty-eight. Tall, a fraction taller than Tess--the average height nowadays a little over five feet, Queen Victoria four feet eleven. "Christ-almighty," he said, voice strangled, mind gone.
"Hello to you, Jamie McFay." She stayed in the doorway, standing straight like her father, her voice lilting. "Can I come in please?"
She unwound the scarf and smiled tentatively.
Now he could see her. Same clear face, not pretty but strong and curiously appealing, hazel freckles, and just as he had last seen her just over three years ago--the dock at Glasgow--though then there were tears at their parting. He had forgotten how her eyes... "Hello Sparkles," he muttered without thinking, using his nickname for her.
"Jesus Christ... Maureen?"
Her laugh trilled. "I take that as a yes and you'll no' be blaspheming anymore, laddie.
Once is fair, me coming like a wraith from the night wanting to surprise you." Her smile and the lilt to her voice made her more attractive than she really was, and the light that danced in her eyes and the love that she wore like a shield. She closed the door and looked at him again. "You look grand, Jamie, a little tired, but you're as bonny as ever."
He had straightened up but still stood behind the desk, his mind jumbled with My God it's you, not
Tess, it's you, easy to mistake in the dark, almost same height same stiff back-- remembering his halfhearted, negative letters over the last year and the final one breaking their engagement, his soundless voice saying, Sorry, Maureen,
I wrote you, we're not getting married, sorry, don't want to get married, can't now, now that I'm on my own, worst possible time and why didn't...
"Och, Jamie," she was saying from across the room, watching and waiting, her smile deepening,
"you canna know how happy I am to see you, to be here at last, aye, the adventures I've had will fill a volume." When he didn't move or reply, a small frown wrinkled her forehead.
"Will you no' get your wits about you, laddie?"
"Tess!" he croaked. "I, we thought you were
Tess Struan."
"Mrs. Struan? No, she's in Hong
Kong. Such a lady, she arranged for me to come here, didn't charge me a penny piece. "You go see your Jamie McFay with my compliments," she said and introduced me to Captain Strongbow--who gave me a cabin to mysel'--and to fine Dr. Hoag and Mister
Smartypants Gornt."
"Eh?"
"That laddie thinks he's God's gift to womanhood but not to me. I'm affianced, I told him, affianced before God to Mr. Jamie
McFay. He said he was your friend, Jamie, and
Dr. Hoag told me he saved your life so
I was nice but kept a distance. Och, laddie, there's so much to learn, so much to tell."
"Christ," he muttered, not hearing her, "easy to make the mistake with the scarf around your face, you and Tess're both the same size, stand the same way..."
"Huh!" Maureen said, her eyes suddenly fiery, "I'll thank you no' to take the Lord's name in vain, and she's a mite shorter and much thicker and much older and her hair is grey, mine's brown and even in the dark I'm not like her!"
When her sudden smile at her own pleasantry did not get through to him, she sighed.
Exasperated, she looked around the room. She saw the decanter. At once went over to it, sniffed to make sure it was whisky, crinkled her nose with distaste but poured him a glass, and a dribble in another.
"Here," she looked up at him, close for the first time, a sudden beam covering her. "My Da' always needed a wusky when the shock of Scotland being part of the British Isles hit him."
The spell broke. Jamie laughed and took her in his arms and hugged her, welcoming her, and the glasses almost spilled out of her hand, "Watch it, laddie," she gasped, managed to put them down and hugged him desperately--all the waiting and standing there, seeing his shock and not the welcome she'd hoped for, trying to be strong and adult, not knowing what to do or how to say that she loved him and could not bear the thought of losing him so she had gambled, gambled and left her sanctuary, she had put her trust in God, took her prayerbook and Bible and her father's derringer in her purse and set out blindly on ten thousand miles of fear.
Inside. But not outside--oh no, never, that's not the Ross way!
"Och, Jamie laddie, laddie..."
"It's all right," he murmured, wishing her trembles away.
In time the shuddering stopped and she released herself, untied her bonnet and let her long plait of red-brown hair uncoil. "That's better," she said. "You're a bonny man, thank you." She handed him his glass and took hers and touched glasses. "Scotland forever," she said as a toast and sipped. "That tastes dreadful, Jamie, but
I'm powerful pleased to see you, I canna say it any better."
Her smile was more tentative now, some of her confidence gone. His embrace had been like a brother's, not a lover's, oh God oh God oh God. To hide from him she looked around as she took off her coat and gloves. Her dress was warm and well cut, another shade of blue and showed off her curves and hourglass waist. "Your
Mr. MacStruan says you can use your suite and I can have the rooms next door until we have a place of our own. Have you packed up your rooms yet, Jamie?"
"No, not yet." Confused, not knowing how to start but start he must. Soon. "This... all my papers and books were first, I was starting upstairs tomorrow. Everything, the furniture here and upstairs belongs to Struan's."
"Never mind. We can buy our own." She sat in the chair opposite the desk and looked at him. Hands in her lap. Waiting. Sure that now she had to bite her tongue and wait for him to begin.
She had done her part by arriving. Perhaps done too much, arriving unannounced, but she had thought about that carefully and done the best she could by writing the letter, and had imagined this meeting hour after hour in the nauseating months at sea, during the storms and once, in the China seas off Singapore, during a mutiny of Chinese steerage passengers, pirates amongst them, that had been put down bloodily. Jamie was her lodestar and now the time of reckoning had arrived.
"He's a bad man, this Jamie
McFay," her mother had told her when she announced her decision. "I've said it and said it, and he'll do you no good, lassie. His letters are anything but encouraging, just the reverse."
"I mean to go, Ma darling. Will Da' lend me the money?"'
"Aye, if you ask him."
"I mean to go. I must. I'm twenty-eight.
I'm old. Past normal marriage age.
I've waited so long and would wait another three years if need be but... it's now or never.
I've decided. Do you understand, Ma?"'
"Aye. I understand. But... well, at least you'll be with him, you'll be with your man, if you marry, not like me."
She had seen the tears and listened to advice never given before, secrets never whispered before, and then her mother said, "Bless you, lassie, go with
God, lassie. Let's tell thy Da'."
He was a Major, Indian Army retired, twenty-five years service, eighteen of those with the newly formed Gurkha Regiment, home on le
ave only every two or three years, before being forced to retire from wounds a decade ago, loathing retirement.
"Aye lassie, go wi' my blessing on two conditions," he said. "If he spurns you, tell him I'll find him and kill him, second, if ever he rapes you, hurts you, cut off his balls--I'll lend you my kookrie, young
Duncan won't need it for ten years yet."
"Yes, Da'." The kookrie, the Gurkha knife, was his most prized possession. She was the eldest of three sisters, with a brother of eight, and the first to leave home--children of Britain were children for the Empire.
Jamie put more coal on the fire and moved his chair closer before he sat down. He took her hand. "Maureen, three months ago I wrote to you."
"You wrote many a letter, not enough," she said lightly, to give herself more time to prepare.
"In all my letters for the last year I tried to point out as best I could that this is no place for a lady, it's not India where there's a regimental life an--"
"I've never been to India, as you know,
Jamie, my Ma only went once and never again." She held his hand in both of hers. "Dinna fash yoursel', this place can be bonny, never fear. That's the job of a woman. I can make it bonny."
The tightness in his throat was choking him. No way to ease into this, his brain was shouting at him, do it or you'll never do it, do it now! Of course it's not fair but you've not been fair to her at all, not fair for years, you're rotten to have taken advantage of her all these years, my God you've been engaged three and knew her two before that and you're rotten... admit it and say it quickly.
Now!
The flood commenced: "Three months ago I wrote you that I felt, it must have arrived after you left, I thought it wise we should break off our engagement and you should forget me and that I was terribly sorry but it was the best for you and I won't go home and live there and work there, I won't leave Asia until I have to, if I get sick or... I won't leave, can't, I love Asia, love my job and there's no hope for a happy time for you, I'm not worth it and I admit I've taken advantage of you but we can't marry, not possible and now that I'm going out on my own..." He stopped for breath then added throatily, "I don't know what else to say, there's nothing more to say except again to apologize
... there it is."
He had taken his hand away. His stomach was churning. Out came his handkerchief to mop his brow.
"Sorry," he said lamely and got up and sat down, then toyed with the glass. "Sorry."
Her hands lay in her lap. Her eyes were concentrated and open and had never left his face. "Dinna be sorry," she said gently with the barest frown. "These things happen, laddie."
His mouth dropped open. "Then you agree?"
She laughed. "Of course, to part of what you said, no' to all, of course--you're a man and
I'm a woman and we see things differently."
"Eh? How?"
"Well, first about jobs," she said. "A woman's job, her work, is to look after a man, to make a home, that's what I've been trained for, home and family are the most important things in the world." She saw Jamie about to interrupt so she added quickly, "My Da' thinks the Empire comes first but he's a man. Men have jobs to go to, to work at to bring home the porridge, a little meat, and aye some wusky. But there has to be a home to bring it to. Without a woman there's no home. It's very important for a man to have someone you can trust to share the burden while you work, or seek a job or start your own business. You can trust me. Of the two, trying to start your own business is best for you. Mr.
Gornt wants to do the same."
"He does?"
"Aye, sometime in the future, he says. Now he's back here to take over Brock and Sons an--"
"He is?" Jamie blinked, diverted.
"Aye. He says he's taking the job of this man who tried to kill you, Mr. Greyfifth."
"Greyforth. Norbert Greyforth." Jamie's mind slammed back into gear: I must be losing my wits with you appearing like a ghost, I'd forgotten about Hoag and Malcolm and Hong Kong. "What happened in Hong Kong? About Malcolm
Struan? Did Gornt say anything about
Morgan Brock or Tyler Brock?"
"Patience, my bonny laddie, that comes later. Back to you and me since you brought the subject up as you did. We'll make a grand team, the best, I promise. We're engaged.
I promise I will make the best wife ever, I promise."
"But don't you see, lassie, it won't work," he said hating himself, but totally sure. "This place is rough, the life rough, there are few women here, you'll have no friends, nothing to do."
She laughed. "Jamie, Jamie, you hav'na heard a single word I've said. Now this is what w--"
A knock on the door stopped her. She called out, "Won't be a second!" She got up, continuing in the same gentle but firm voice,
"That'll be Dr. Hoag, he was urgent to see you but I begged a couple of minutes first, I could'na' wait to see you. Now I'll leave you to him." She collected her hat and gloves and coat and scarf. "Dinna concern yourself about me,
I'll be changed and ready in good time. I'll knock on your door. Dinner's at nine, dinna forget now."
"Eh?" he asked blankly.
"This Russian Count, Zerevev, some name like that. We've accepted for dinner, Mr.
MacStruan told me all about it."
She swept out, thanked Hoag, and before
Jamie could say anything, Hoag had closed the door and had rushed up to him and said breathlessly, the words tumbling out: "Hong Kong went like a dream,
Jamie, Malcolm was buried with full honors, at sea like he and Angelique wanted!"
"He was what?"
Hoag chortled, "You could have knocked me down with a feather too, Tess arranged it off
Shek-O, one of his favorite places in all the world, a few days before I arrived. Full honors, Jamie, all flags at half mast, ships dipping their flags, cannonade salutes, pipers, everything, the funeral of the tai-pan, though he never was. The papers covered everything, I've the cuttings, month's mourning for Hong Kong, Governor ordered a special service in our church on the knoll in
Happy Valley of Culum fame, Gordon
Chen threw the biggest, most explosive procession and wake in Chinatown's history-- except for the one he gave Dirk--of course starting the usual bloody fires on the slopes and they say a few thousand squatter shacks went up in smoke, not only that, when I saw Tess
... can I have a drink, I'm parched!"
"Of course. Go on, don't stop," Jamie said and poured for both of them, his own glass long since empty. He noticed his fingers were shaking.
Christ, why would Tess do that, a sea burial, and what the hell is Maureen doing accepting for dinner when we've got to talk? "Go on, for
Christ's sake!"
First Hoag drank, "My God, that's good!"
He took off his coat and sat down, took a deep breath and felt better. "My God I'm pleased to see you. Where was I? Oh yes! When
I saw Tess the first time I was so upset for her. It was awful. I met her in Culum's old office and she said, "Ronald, tell me the bad, all the details, tell it as it happened." She was standing by the huge desk, straight as a spar, pale, never so pale,
Jamie--the painting of Dirk on the wall, staring at you with that green-eyed challenge, daring you to lie.
I told her as best I could, of course she'd heard bits and pieces from Strongbow--you remember I'd told him to tell her I was on the mail ship and sorry couldn't come by Cloud because there was an operation I had to perform.
"She never wavered, she never wavered,
Jamie, just listened as I told about the
Tokaid@o, engagement, marriage and death as best I could, as gently as I could, the duel,
Norbert, you and Gornt. It all came out, don't remember my exact words but I told it as it happened." He stopped a moment, less nervous now. "You know how she is, always holding back always hiding, the stiffest upper lip in
Christendom, she just thanked me, told me she had the death certificate and inquest p
apers from
Strongbow. Remarkable woman. Uncanny.
That's about all--oh yes, she thanked me for taking care of the coffin with the undertaker which went perfectly, thank God."
"Eh?"
Hoag's eyes brightened. "Naturally I didn't want the coffin opened up. I'd told
Strongbow to send it directly to Blore,