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

by India Millar

  “Oh! Auntie’s dead. What’s going to happen to us?”

  The girls screamed.

  I shouted, “Shut up! She’s not dead.”

  I was pushed aside. Bigger—with Ken behind him—took one of Auntie’s arms, and with surprising gentleness, for Bigger at least, lifted her bodily and laid her on her back on the bed. Ken hovered at his side, ready to catch Auntie if she fell. The assembled geisha groaned out loud, and when I looked at Auntie’s face, I groaned with them. Her lips were peeled back from her teeth in a grimace that looked more like fear than pain. Her eyes were wide open, but instinct told me she was seeing nothing. Or at least, whatever she was seeing wasn’t our familiar faces. Worse of all, the left side of her face was hanging down, as if somebody had hooked their nails into her skin and tugged at it until it had parted from her flesh.

  “Has a spirit stolen her body?” Sute asked. “Are you sure she isn’t dead?”

  “She’s breathing,” I snapped. Although it was less breathing than a painful sucking rasp for air. “Bigger, will you go for a doctor?” I remembered my manners and added, “Please?”

  Bigger nodded. “You’ll stay her with her?”

  “Of course I will.”

  Bigger turned, his arms outstretched, and shooed the other geisha out of the room in front of him. At the door, he turned and called to Ken.

  “Ken-san, please take the women into the main reception room and make sure they stay there. Auntie needs quiet, I think. Their chatter will distress her. And nobody,” he added quietly, “is to come in or go out. If an unexpected patron shows up, tell them the truth. Auntie is ill and we are closed.”

  Ken glanced at me and then followed Bigger. I managed a smile of reassurance before the screen door closed behind him.

  Apart from the terrible damage to her face, Auntie looked almost tranquil laid in her vast bed. She was breathing, without a doubt. I could hear the air rattling in and out of her chest. Her hands were clutching the air, grabbing for something I could not see. The gesture was distressing, and I captured her hands and held them tight. Immediately, she grabbed onto my hands with incredible strength. I couldn’t loosen them without hurting her, so I stayed where I was, praying that Bigger would soon return with the doctor.

  Auntie whispered something, and I leaned forward to hear, but still I could not make out what she was saying.

  “It’s me, Auntie. It’s Mineko.”

  Her poor head tossed from side to side. Her sleeping plaits were beginning to come undone, and when she released her grip fractionally, I snatched the chance to reclaim my hands and tidy her hair for her. She tried to rise, and I pushed her back down gently.

  I could feel her shoulder bones jutting beneath my hands. When had Auntie become so delicate? When had she come to lose so much weight? She had never been a big woman, but she always had a wiry strength that—combined with her walking stick—was enough to keep any geisha in the Hidden House in order. And without her traditional heavy makeup, her skin was so pale I was sure if I stared long enough I would be able to see her bones through it.

  “Don’t die, Auntie,” I whimpered, shocked to hear myself saying it.

  Hadn’t all we geisha cursed Auntie at some point? Had actually wished her dead when we had felt the whip of her tongue or the whip of her cane? After all, wasn’t it Auntie who was responsible for bringing us all to the Hidden House? Imprisoned us behind its walls? Made us slaves to any patron who had our price in his pocket? All true, of course. And yet…if it hadn’t been for Auntie, where would we have ended up? The twins would, no doubt, have been behind the lattice in the nasty brothel they had run away from, assuming they hadn’t taken the honorable way out and killed themselves rather than suffer the shame of being public whores. They had Akira to thank for finding them, but it was Auntie who had taught them the skills they needed and made them part of the Hidden House. Masaki? Tiny, tiny Masaki? She had said herself that she had no place in the outside world, that it would have crushed her without a second thought. Naruko too. With her bound feet and tottering walk, what place was there for her in the wide, cruel world? Sute, I didn’t doubt, would have found a home in some brothel or other and would probably have been perfectly happy. Although with her gaijin looks I shuddered to think how she would have been treated without Auntie’s vigilance to keep her safe.

  And me? Ah. But I was different, wasn’t I? I looked perfectly normal. I would, I suppose, have found some way to keep body and soul together, even if it meant thieving and begging for a living. But I would never have been warm and fed and secure with a roof over my head and a comfortable futon to sleep on. Above all, I would never have met Ken.

  No matter how we grumbled about our life in the Hidden House, we all owed Auntie for our very existence. She kept us safe, protected us from a world that would have had no pity on us. She was, truly, our Auntie. The one thing in our lives that was constant.

  And now she was dying.

  Even as I thought it, Auntie whispered something. And this time, I heard what she said. A single word.

  “Akira.”

  I coughed with surprise. “He’s not here, Auntie. Bigger has gone to find a doctor for you. As soon as he gets back, he’ll go and find Akira-san for you.”

  Auntie grabbed my hand, levering herself up from her pillows. “Promise.” She hissed. “You must bring him to me. He will want you to do that. He will want to see me before I die. Akira!” She shrieked his name loudly and, exhausted by the effort, fell back onto the pillows.

  I had no idea what to do. I stroked her hair and patted her hand, made sure the bedclothes were snug around her neck. Told her over and over again that she wasn’t going to die. That the doctor was on his way. That Akira would be here soon. The same phrases, over and over again until I wasn’t sure if I was trying to comfort Auntie or convince myself.

  The doctor was the usual one who came and inspected us geisha every now and then to make sure we hadn’t caught the pox. We were all sure he prodded and poked us with unnecessary interest, lingering and gloating over our private parts, and we hated his visits. Now, I was glad to see him.

  “How long has she been like this?” he demanded. Bigger raised his eyebrows at me, and I shrugged.

  “Not long, doctor-san,” I replied. “I heard her scream and rushed in to see what the matter was straight away. Bigger-san followed not long after, and he went to find you almost immediately. Please, what has happened to her?”

  The doctor ignored me. Bigger and I stood side by side, both equally helpless as we watched him look at Auntie’s tongue, pull her eyelids down and peer at her eyes, put his head on her chest and listen to her breathing. He waggled his fingers in front of her face and frowned when her eyes didn’t follow his actions.

  “Something has happened to her brain,” he announced finally. Bigger and I stared at each other in bewilderment. Her brain? How had that caused her face to drop as it had, for her to be almost unable to move?

  Seeing our expressions, the doctor nodded firmly as if we had voiced our doubts out loud. “It is an apoplexy of her brain. It’s very serious. I can do little. Whether she lives or dies will depend on her at the end of the day. If she wants to live, then she will survive.”

  “You must be able to give her something to help,” I blurted. “Akira-san will be very angry if he comes back and finds out that Auntie has been neglected in any way.”

  The doctor blinked at the mention of Akira and frowned. “I will do my best.” He nodded, his expression worried. “You must tell Akira-san that I have done that when he returns.” I nodded impatiently and called for the maid to bring a brush and ink and paper. I was almost hopping from foot to foot with anxiety as I watched him write out the prescription. “Send somebody to the druggist to get this made up immediately. Give her half a sake cup of the mixture at once, and then twice a day from tomorrow. I will come back in the morning. If she is still alive then, there is hope.”

  We bowed as he swept out, leaving Bigger clutchi
ng the order for the medicine in his hand.

  “I will take this to the druggist myself, and make sure it is made up at once. Will you stay with her, Mineko? You are not frightened?”

  I glanced at Auntie’s contorted face and shook my head. If she really had been taken over by an evil spirit, then I would not have been happy on my own with her. Illness I could cope with. As Bigger reached the door, I remembered something.

  “Bigger-san. Earlier, Auntie was calling for Akira-san. I think it’s important to her to see him. Do you know where he is?”

  That had been something else puzzling us all. Akira seemed to have disappeared. Since he had bought the Hidden House, he had spent time with us. Too much time! To begin with, he would appear unannounced, perhaps every few weeks. Then he had come more often, meeting his gaijin business associates here. When he taught Midori to speak English, the meetings became more and more frequent. As did the nights he arranged for his own men to take over the house and take their pick of us geisha. Soon, we had become resigned to the idea that Akira could be found at the Hidden House at any time of the day or night.

  Now, he was no longer amongst us. He had brought Ken to the Hidden House and had visited a couple of time since. But for the last two weeks or so we had seen nothing of him at all.

  I watched Bigger’s face carefully, sure I would know if he lied to me. He frowned, and seemed to hesitate before he replied.

  “Akira-san has business that has taken him out of the Floating World. In fact, out of Edo altogether.”

  Then I remembered what Kiku had told me, about rival yakuza causing great trouble for Akira, and understood. At the time, I had doubted that things could be as serious as she said. If Akira had really been forced out of Edo, then I knew that it was very bad indeed.

  “Please,” I said softly. “If you know where Akira-san is, if he can come back safely, get word to him. Auntie needs him.”

  I heard Bigger draw in his breath in a hiss and knew immediately that I had made a blunder. I was not supposed to know that Akira was in danger.

  “Is there anything that you don’t hear, Mineko-chan?” he said softly.

  I dared to raise my head and meet his gaze. “I know that if you don’t bring him here Auntie will die.”

  He thought about it for a moment, and then grunted. He glanced from me to Auntie. The doctor had closed her eyelids, but her hands were still plucking at the bedclothes. She was whispering constantly to herself, but then she said one word clearly.

  “Akira.”

  Bigger nodded. “I will go to the druggist straight away. When I have given you Auntie’s medicine, I will go in search of Akira-san. He would want me to get him for her. But I expect you know that as well, don’t you?”

  I kept my eyes downcast. I had no idea why Auntie needed to see Akira so urgently. Even less idea why it would matter to him that Auntie was close to death. But Bigger thought I knew, and I wasn’t going to disillusion him. To have even the smallest power over this terrible man could only be fortunate.

  Bigger was as good as his word. He was back very quickly, but not before I had had many anxious moments. Twice I was sure Auntie had stopped breathing and held my breath for her. He banged in without knocking and handed me a paper bound bottle. I read the instructions carefully, half listening to Bigger at the same time.

  “The druggist says to give her the first draught straight away, and then twice every day.” I nodded. That was what the doctor had said. “And also, get her to drink as much as you can. Water or tea, it doesn’t matter which. If you can make her drink some good broth, he says that will help. He thinks she may benefit from acupuncture, but not just yet.”

  When I looked up to thank him, he had already gone.

  I asked one of the maids to bring my futon in and lay it out on the floor next to Auntie’s bed. The girl was obviously reluctant. She stared at Auntie fearfully, as if she was sure she had been taken over by an evil spirit. I had to snap at her to get her to move. It took me so long to coax the medicine down Auntie’s throat, I was shattered by the time the sake cup was empty.

  But in spite of my weariness, sleep would not come. Auntie moaned and tossed in her sleep constantly. Every time she spoke, I awoke to see to her. In the brief periods that she was quiet, my mind was full of Ken. I worried at what he had told me, like a cat that is intent on torturing a bird. Would he have left me if he thought he might suffer hurt? Did he—could he—possibly care for me as much as he said he did? What future was there for us? Round and round and round my thoughts ran, until eventually exhaustion claimed me and I fell asleep. Dreamlessly, thank the gods.

  The morning sun on my face woke me. I knew where I was instantly, but lay still for a moment, luxuriating in the silence. And then I jumped up, terrified that Auntie was quiet not because she was asleep, but because she was dead. I let my breath out in a whoosh of relief as I saw she was breathing. I hated myself for waking her, but I had to get the medicine down her. This time, she seemed to be ready for me, and literally spat the draught back in my face.

  “Akira-san has asked me to give this to you, Auntie.” I spoke in desperation, but it worked. Her eyes flickered from side to side, but she was still. I tried again. “Akira-san asked me to make sure that you took your medicine. He will be here soon.”

  She took the liquid silently, in small sips. I tasted a bit where it had run onto my finger and understood why she didn’t want it. The medicine was intensely bitter, with an undercurrent of something that was both sweeter and at the same time very nasty. I pulled a face for her.

  By the third day, I was nearly at my wits’ end.

  It seemed to me that Auntie was neither better nor worse. I wondered if I should call an acupuncture master in to treat her, and then worried that it might make her worse, so I did nothing. Bigger still had not returned. Ken kept the house closed to patrons, telling them honestly that Auntie had been taken ill and was not to be disturbed. Some of the patrons grumbled, he said, but others obviously worried that Auntie might have something contagious and left quickly. Ken came in to see me every couple of hours, standing and looking at me in bewilderment, his expression lost. He offered to sit with Auntie while I got some rest, but I guessed he would have had no idea at all what she needed, what he should do for her, and sent him away gently.

  The other geisha came to see me as well. They stared at Auntie in horror, their question clear in their faces. Only Sute dared to ask it out loud.

  “Is she going to die?”

  “I don’t know,” I said wearily. “The doctor says she has had an apoplexy on her brain. He’s given her some medicine, but I don’t know if it’s doing her any good. He says it’s up to her whether she lives or not.”

  Sute brightened immediately. “Oh, well. That’s all right then. Auntie would never want to die like this.”

  I almost managed a laugh. She was right. Auntie would want to die in her own time. In her own way. Never helpless like this.

  Little Kiku refused to leave my side except for the briefest moments when doggy needs called, but she was not a great deal of practical help. But all of the geisha in turn tried to persuade me to let them look after Auntie. I had none of the misgivings I had with Ken. Any of them—even Sute—would be quite capable of taking care of her. After all, hadn’t we been trained by Auntie herself to meet the needs of the most demanding men in Edo? Eventually, Naruko and Masaki virtually bundled me out of the room between them, insisting I needed to take a bath and eat. I allowed myself to be persuaded. I wasn’t hungry, but I felt dirty. Auntie had had her medicine and seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

  The maid soaped and rinsed me repeatedly, and I slid into the steaming bath water gratefully. I was there long enough to begin to relax when Sute ran into the bathhouse, nearly skidding on the slippery tiles.

  “Mineko. Quick. Auntie’s woken up and she’s trying to get out of bed. Naruko and Masaki can barely keep her there. She’s screaming for you.”

  I ran back to Auntie with
only a robe pulled over my dripping body, my feet leaving wet footprints behind me. As soon as she saw me, she smiled, turned over, and went back to sleep. None of the girls offered to give me a break after that. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to, they simply knew there was no point.

  Although the doctor hadn’t told me to do it, I massaged Auntie’s face every day with camellia oil. Carefully, as if I was smoothing a baby’s delicate skin. If she had to die, then I was determined she was not going to the next life with a face that drooped like that. And every day, I forced her medicine down her, although I was beginning to think that even coaxing her with Akira’s name was beginning to lose its charm.

  She was sweating constantly, as if she had a fever, although her forehead was cool to the touch and she shivered non-stop. I felt uncomfortable for her and decided I would give her a bath. Not in the bathhouse, of course—I shuddered to think what moving her might do—but in bed. Surely it couldn’t hurt her, and if the gods were with me, it might even make her feel better.

  The maid bought me a deep bowl of warm water, and I poured in the tiniest drop of almond oil. I knew Auntie would be repulsed by the thought of wearing any scent but that of her own body—perfumes were, after all, only for either very rich and powerful women or the highest paid courtesans—but I thought the oil would make the water sweeter and smoother for her skin. She lay in my arms like a limp doll as I stripped off her sleeping robe.

  Her body shocked me. Auntie’s face might bear the wrinkles appropriate to her years, but the flesh on her body was smooth. Her breasts sagged, yes, but her belly still had the roundness of youth, and her hips and legs were shapely. For the first time, I realized that Auntie had been young once, and had probably been an attractive woman. The knowledge was somehow more shocking than the fact that I was handling her naked body.