The Japanese Lantern

by Isobel Chace

  For a moment she couldn’t speak. That Jason should answer the telephone had never occurred to her.

  “It’s me—Jonquil,” she said at last.

  “So it is.” She could almost hear his amusement.

  “I thought Mrs. Tate would want to know that we arrived safely,” she told him.

  ‘That was very thoughtful of you,” he said. “Do you want to speak to her?”

  “N-no.” It would be too silly to get her to the phone merely to tell her of her own fears.

  “I’m glad you rang up,” Jason went on, his voice suddenly serious. “I hear that Keeving has gone to Kyoto too. You're not to have anything to do with him until I get there. Is that clear, Jonquil?”

  “No, it isn’t!” she exploded. “Why shouldn’t I see him if I want to?”

  There was a slight pause at the other end.

  “Jonquil, did you know that he was going to Kyoto?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And you didn’t say anything, although you knew that was the chief reason why I let you and Alexander go?”

  “I couldn’t see that it mattered,” she said unhappily. And why should it matter? she asked herself crossly. She would see Edward whenever she wanted to, regardless of Jason’s quite unreasonable request—not even request! Order!

  “What else are you keeping back?” Jason asked quietly.

  Irresistibly Jonquil found herself answering, “Mitchi Boko travelled with him on the train.”

  the silence was so long that she called his name several times, but there was no reply. Jason had rung off.

  CHAPTER VII

  Yoshiko and Edward arrived at the house at almost the same moment. Jonquil could see them talking to each other on the path outside. Desperately she tried just once more to recall Jason to the telephone, but the line was quite, quite dead. Numbly she placed the receiver back on its rest. It was easy for Jason to tell her to avoid Edward, but how was she possibly going to be able to when here he was standing at Jason’s own front door! He walked into the house a step or so ahead of Yoshiko and smiled at Jonquil with a friendliness that she somehow hadn’t expected. It was silly, she thought, to make so much of what Jason had said

  “Hullo,” Edward greeted her. “Mitchi Boko told me you were on the train last night.” He smiled, his eyes unaccountably sad. “She told me quite a lot of things, but I’m afraid I couldn’t believe them all. I wish I could!”

  To her annoyance Jonquil found herself blushing. She tried to remember exactly what she had said to the Japanese girl, so that she could laugh it off with some retort, but all she could do was stand there, in a strained silence, wondering what on earth she was going to do.

  Yoshiko looked from one to the other of them with interest.

  “Boko has never been able to distinguish the truth from the things that she wants to believe herself,” she said primly.

  Edward gave her a strange look.

  “Is there anywhere where we can talk?” he asked uneasily.

  “We could go out into the garden,” Jonquil said doubtfully. She cast an apologetic look at Yoshiko, whose green eyes answered hers with a little snap of amusement.

  “Japanese houses are not built for privacy,” she said slyly, “but Jason’s goldfish are very pretty.”

  Edward didn’t wait to ask where they were. He hurried Jonquil out into the garden and found a seat where he suggested that she sat down, standing above her, with one foot on the seat near where she was sitting.

  “Did you mean all of what you told Jason Tate to tell me?” he asked abruptly.

  “Well, naturally,” she said breathlessly. “I was truly sorry to have lost you. It was all rather frightening at the time.”

  “So frightening that you didn’t ever want to see me again?” he asked more gently.

  “No,” she whispered. Whatever happened she couldn’t have him believing that. It would be so unfair when all he had wanted was to give her a pleasant evening.

  “So,” he said thoughtfully, his eyes suddenly dancing, “perhaps Mitchi Boko was right after all.”

  “I don’t know what she said,” Jonquil said cautiously, suddenly furiously angry with Jason for having put her in this position. How dared he say such things on her behalf?

  Edward smiled down at her.

  “She said that you might not be averse to coming out with me again.”

  “I should like to very much,” Jonquil heard herself saying defiantly.

  “Will you come to Osaka to see the puppets with me?”

  She nodded, a little afraid of her own defiance of Jason.

  “Tomorrow night?”

  Again she nodded. Why not? If she were going, the sooner the better.

  “Thank you very much,” she said. She didn’t look at him, but she could sense his pleasure. She was glad that she had found the courage to agree to go with him. He was nice, she thought. Why else would he have taken so much trouble to make sure that Jason had delivered her message correctly? And then, as if he were echoing her thoughts, he asked:

  “What exactly did make you bolt off like that at the Oeshiki?”

  “It was so silly,” she confessed. “I thought I saw Mitchi Boko in the crowd and I tried to get to her, and then, naturally in such a crush of people, I found that I’d lost you. I was terribly glad when Jason rescued me. All that chanting seemed awfully sinister and I didn’t think that I was ever going to find anyone ever again!”

  “I was worried sick about you,” he said with sudden intensity, but he obviously didn’t mean to reproach her, for he smiled again. “I’m glad Mitchi Boko caught sight of you yesterday,” he said, “because I actually believed Tate! Never, my dear, send me any more messages through him.” He took her hands from her lap, holding them prisoners in his while he looked at them.

  “They’re very small to be able to hold so much happiness in their power,” he commented. It should have been a very pretty remark, but somehow it didn’t ring quite true, and Jonquil tore her hands away from him with a sudden impulsive movement.

  “Don’t you like to receive compliments?” he laughed softly when she shook her head. “We must put that right. You must guard your rights in this country where women seem to have so few! Now Tate has lived in Japan so long that he no longer sees the need to pay any compliments. I truly believe that on the contrary he has come to expect them! Perhaps that’s why Yoshiko is so popular with him!”

  The faint scorn in his voice shocked her a little. She had never thought of Jason as being particularly concerned as to what anyone thought of him, and she had certainly not thought of him as being susceptible to flattery.

  “I don’t want to discuss Mr. Tate,” she said, feeling prim as she did so. To her relief Edward seemed to understand her feelings.

  “I forgot that he’s technically employing you, my loyal Jonquil,” he said easily. “What shall we talk about?”

  “You,” Jonquil suggested. “You have no idea how mysterious you are! Arriving in Japan and knowing so much about the country—”

  “You forget that I came with a purpose. Naturally I read up as much about the country as I could before I came.”

  His kind expression made Jonquil suddenly bold.

  “And why did you come?” she asked baldly.

  “Business reasons. Why else?”

  Was it her imagination that he was suddenly tense, on his guard? She felt rather silly in her questioning and said provocatively:

  “That isn’t nearly a sufficiently romantic reason, Mr. Keeving!”

  “What shall I say, then?” he asked. “That I followed you deliberately all the way from Manila, because I couldn’t bear to stay away?”

  Somehow this time she wasn’t at all embarrassed by his words. She was beginning to enjoy herself. “If it’s true,” she said gently.

  “It is,” he assured her. “How could I not have followed you? But I had business here too. Not so romantic perhaps, but such a very good excuse!” His air of regret was very con
vincing, even though his eyes were twinkling.

  “And did you know Mitchi Boko before you got here?” she found herself asking.

  “Jealous?” he asked her, looking her right in the eyes. “You have no need to be. All my interest is with you.”

  She noted that he hadn’t answered her question and she didn’t really believe him, but he gave her a pleasant warm glow and she liked his company, even if she didn’t want to take him too seriously.

  “I’m not in the least jealous,” she denied. “You know that very well! I’m just interested to know more about her.”

  “Are you?” he asked. “Are you quite sure?” And before she could be aware of what he was about he had swooped down and had kissed her quite gently right on the mouth.

  “Quite sure,” she said demurely, and stood up. “I must go in and see what Alexander is up to.” She forced herself to walk slowly up the path, though all her instincts demanded that she ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Whatever had come over her that she should have allowed him to think that she wanted him to kiss her? For honesty forced her to admit that she had done nothing to discourage him in such an idea. It was all Jason’s fault! she stormed inwardly. If he hadn’t made her so angry—Oh, she hated him with a bitter anger that settled somewhere around her heart. She wished that he had been there so that he could have seen the incident! And then, an instant later, she was heartily glad that he had not, for it was hardly the sort of behaviour that one expected in the governess to one’s nephew.

  When she reached the house, she looked back to see if Edward was following her, but he was still standing in the same position. She saw Nobuko go running up to him, evidently affronted that a man should be left in such a manner without anyone looking after him, but he said something to her and she went scuttling back to the kitchen door, her face worried. It wasn’t until Jonquil had walked right into the house that she realized that she had been able to hear what he had said, and that he had said it in Japanese.

  Yoshiko had brought in an enormous egg of red-hot charcoal and had laid it in the hibachi with what looked like an outsize pair of chopsticks.

  “It is so sad that the summer is over,” she sighed as she prodded the embers. “Now it is beautiful still, but soon it will be winter and that is sad.”

  “Why?” Alexander asked.

  “Because the year will die and we shall all be older.”

  “Why?” Alexander asked again.

  “Because it will be Toshitori and we shall all be one year older.”

  Alexander looked puzzled.

  “My birthday is in the summer,” he said.

  “Mine too,” Yoshiko told him, smiling, “but I am too old for a birthday now. That is for children. When one is older one receives age every New Year’s Eve. Toshitori—receiving age!”

  “I shall always have my own birthday,” Alexander maintained stoutly. “Mummy and Daddy always do.”

  “That is because they are not Japanese,” Yoshiko agreed.

  Jonquil listened to them without paying much attention. She had become accustomed to Yoshiko’s sudden moods of nostalgia for the old customs of Japan, when, half rebelliously, she would insist that the old etiquette should be played out, or would tell them some fairy story, handed down from the beginning of time, that she more than half believed in. Also Jonquil was worried about Nobuko. The old woman had crept round the house all day, eyeing her unhappily whenever she felt that she was unobserved. Jonquil badly wanted to know what it was that Edward had said to her.

  With sudden decision she got up from her cushions and left the other two. She was pretty sure that she would find Nobuko in the kitchen, getting Alexander’s supper ready, and so she hurried out there, just as the Japanese amah was coming in from the garden, bearing one tawny chrysanthemum to decorate the tray she had prepared with loving hands.

  “I came to talk to you,” Jonquil began shyly.

  The old woman huddled into her enveloping white apron, her eyes enigmatic.

  “Hai,” she murmured. “Yes, miss.”

  It wasn’t a very promising beginning, Jonquil thought helplessly. She smiled, wondering what more she could say, watching as the old woman sat herself down on a stool and busily stirred some mixture in a pot on the charcoal stove.

  “You marry that man?” Nobuko asked at last, breaking the silence which had gone on for far too long.

  “Mr. Keeving? No. He’s only a friend.” Nobuko somehow gave her to understand that the ways of Europeans were quite beyond her understanding. She said nothing, but there was plenty in the atmosphere.

  “Jason-san say you were his girl,” she said flatly. “That his girl bring Arex-san and rook after him!”

  Jonquil looked at her in astonishment.

  “He must have meant Yoshiko,” she suggested blindly. Surely Jason couldn’t have said such a thing of her. Perhaps in Manila—but that had all come to an end as soon as they had arrived at Hanedin Airport. It was quite dreadful, though, how much she wished that it was in fact true.

  “Not Yoshiko,” Nobuko said flatly, with complete certainty.

  “But—” Jonquil stopped. There was some mistake, she knew. Nobuko had misunderstood whatever it was that Jason had told her. Her English was not terribly good. But then Jason would have spoken to her in her own language. Her heart beat a little faster and a delightful, heady confusion took possession of her.

  Nobuko picked up a bowl of chopped meat and added it to her mixture on the fire with one chop-stick, shaking her head in a manner so reminiscent of the old aborigine woman who had nursed Jonquil as a little girl that she chuckled. Nobuko gave her a sharp look.

  “That man no good to you,” she said sternly.

  “No,” Jonquil agreed easily. She wondered what had come over her that she should so easily have jeopardized Jason’s good opinion of her by agreeing to go out with Edward again. She would have to get in touch with him somehow and tell him that she would not be going. If Jason— But she would not allow her thoughts too much freedom in that direction. “What did Mr. Keeving say to you this morning?” she asked.

  Nobuko puckered up her mouth into a prim, straight line.

  “Not good thing. We say ‘the mouth is the entrance of iniquity’ ”— she rolled out the words with justifiable pride—“Keeving-san would know this, but never hoppen! He bad man!”

  “Why?” Jonquil asked, laughing. “Most men swear.”

  Nobuko shrugged her shoulders.

  “No swear in Japanese,” she informed her coldly. “No words!”

  The old woman smiled at her suddenly and picked up the chrysanthemum from the tray.

  “Here,” she said. “You like, no?”

  Jonquil accepted the flower, her pleasure at the tribute showing clearly in her face.

  “It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed. “You do have the most lovely flowers in Japan. I wish I could take some of them home with me, but I’m afraid that they would never grow in our climate.”

  “Never hoppen,” the old woman agreed smugly. She tipped the mixture in the saucepan into a clean bowl and placed it carefully on the tray.

  “You take to Arex-san,” she ordered. “I cook for you now.”

  Obediently, Jonquil picked up the tray and carried it back towards the living room. But in the hall she was stopped by the front door bell going and she put the tray down and went to answer it.

  “Miss Kennedy? You remember me? I am Kagami-san.”

  He looked oddly ill at ease standing on the doorstep, as though he were unaccustomed to calling.

  “Please do come in,” she said warmly. “I am just taking Alexander his supper, but you won’t mind that. Yoshiko will be so very pleased to see you.”

  He followed her inside, .standing aside as she shut the door and picked up the tray again.

  “We’re in here,” she told him, and pushed back the sliding door with one foot. He smiled at her politely and allowed her to go through first, pushing the door to behind them.

 
Yoshiko and Alexander were still where Jonquil had left them: Yoshiko deep in an involved story of her childhood that Alexander was listening to with only half his attention, for he was hungry and was beginning to wonder what he was going to be given to eat. It was a second, therefore, before Yoshiko saw Kagami and she gasped quite audibly when she did so, leaping to her feet and biting her lower lip with dismay.

  “Won’t you sit down?” Jonquil suggested to him. He thanked her charmingly and dropped down on to the nearest pile of cushions, smiling to himself.

  “What do you eat?” he asked Alexander.

  Flattered by his interest, the small boy gave him a detailed account of all the different things that he could find in his stew, which he listened to solemnly, putting in an occasional suggestion of his own.

  “Why did you come, Taki?” Yoshiko asked suddenly, breaking into the conversation as though she couldn’t bear it any longer.

  Kagami looked at her with mild surprise.

  “I came to see you,” he said slowly. “I thought you might like to go to Osaka to see the new revue.”

  There was an astonished silence.

  “But you don’t like modern shows,” Yoshiko objected.

  Kagami smiled.

  “It is true that I prefer the Kabuki Theatre, he admitted, “but I like other things too.”

  Yoshiko was silent, staring at him as though she had never seen him before.

  “I think there is chicken in it too,” Alexander put in, a little annoyed that his audience had apparently deserted him.

  “Eat your food,” Yoshiko told him.

  Alexander looked at Jonquil, hoping that she would countermand that order, but she only nodded at him and so he picked up his spoon in disgust and began to eat.

  “Do you come?” Kagami-san asked quietly.

  “My father would not approve,” Yoshiko reminded him in bewildered tones.

  “He need not know. I shall not tell him.”

  Yoshiko still looked doubtful.