The Japanese Lantern (17 page)

She was dead to the
w
orld when Yoshiko let
herself into the house. Not dropping of wooden sandals on to the polished floor awoke her, and it was not until the Japanese girl descended on her bedroll
in
a flurry of k
i
mono that she woke up at all.

“Poor Jonquil,” Yoshiko crooned, not in the least repentant. “I am so sorry to wake you up but I had to tell you! It is all arranged. I am to be married next week!”

“Next week!” Jonquil repeated. She felt quite unbelievably hurt. Jason could have told her, she thought. He could have prepared her for the shock that it was going to happen quite so soon.

“My father has agreed!” Yoshiko exulted. “I never thought he would! We are to go to America for my honeymoon and we
shall meet all my mother’s family! Oh, Jonquil, I am so happy! I could, laugh and cry at the same time!”

“I hope you’ll always be very happy,” Jonquil said stiffly.

“But of course we shall be!” Yoshiko exclaimed. “You are thinking about the things that I said, perhaps. I think I was very silly, because of course I am much more Japanese than American. And now that I am to see the States I shall love living in Japan. Anyway, Taki is Japanese and I love him too much to want to be different from him.”

“Taki?” Jonquil felt winded and gasped for breath. “But I thought you were going to marry Jason,” she said.

Yoshiko crowed with laughter.

“Jason
!
” she exclaimed. “How could you think such a thing? Didn’t you know that he is in love with you? Kagami-san and I shall never be able to thank him enough, though,” she continued seriously. “It was he who persuaded my father to let us go. My father is terrified that I shall never come back if once I go to America, but now he is quite happy that Taki will make me return with him.” She ended in such satisfied tones that Jonquil was amused.

“But what did Jason have to say when he heard you were going to marry Kagami-san?” she asked breathlessly.

“What could he say?” Yoshiko said indifferently. “It has always been understood that I should marry
him.
”

“Yes, I know,” Jonquil agreed. “But you didn’t seem very keen.”

Yoshiko’s eyes gleamed softly in the dark.

“There is a great deal more to Taki than I thought,” she said. “I’ve always loved him, but it is only since we came to Kyoto that I found that I
liked
him
too! He is so unlike any other Japanese man I know. He will be a great man in modern Japan, for he understands even American elections
!
”

“Does he indeed?” Jonquil said with the right degree of awe.

They went on talking until Yoshiko could hold her eyes open no longer and went off to bed.

Oh, Jason, Jonquil breathed, I didn’t mean it
w
hen I said I hated you! How am I ever going to live through the days until you get back? And when he did get back, would he ever feel quite the same? But he had said that he would collect an answer from her next week
!
And treasuring that thought to her, Jonquil slept.

CHAPTER XI

Yoshiko’s
wedding day dawned clear and sunny. The soft autumnal air was balmy with the scent of all the flowers that had been sent to Jason’s house preparatory to being taken to the shrine where the ceremony was to take place. It was exactly one week since Jason had gone back to Tokyo and there had been no word from him since.

During the week Mr. Matsui had come round to see Jonquil and had reassured her that Edward had been unable to do any harm to his chemical firm. He had sat on a pile of cushions, looking quite at home, and had said:

“It has been very difficult for Boko-san. Her parents and I have talked the whole matter over and it is agreed that I should find some good husband for her, one who will be able to provide for the family, someone suitable. It will give me great pleasure to do this for her. She is a good girl at heart, and my wife was always very fond of her.”

“But will Boko like that?” Jonquil had asked uncertainty, for it had seemed rather a precarious kind of future to her.

“Yes, indeed,” Matsui-san had assured her. “She will be very happy. I should have thought about it long since.”

Jonquil’s doubts had not been altogether disposed of, but as everyone else approved wholeheartedly of the arrangement she felt there was nothing that she could say, so she had only nodded and offered him another cup of tea.

When he had gone, Yoshiko had arrived and had demanded her services to help her pack all
her personal possessions so that they could be sent round to Kagami-san’s hou
s
e the evening before the wedding. Both Jonquil and Alexander had thoroughly enjoyed themselves, for Yoshiko’s things had been delightfully new to them and they had marvelled at the little Kokeshi dolls that she had played with as a child, consisting of no more than a round, decorated column with a painted head perched on the top.

“I shall give you one,” Yoshiko had announced with a sudden spurt of generosity, her green eyes flashing with amusement. “This one, I think.
”
She had chosen one from amongst her collection and had put it in Jonquil’s hands. “Do you like
it?”

“I do!” Jonquil had affirmed with enthusiasm. It was a comic little doll, a little different from all the others, as though it had been made by a different and not quite so experienced hand.

“I want one too,” Alexander had put
in
.

“Do you?” Yoshiko had teased him. “What does
a boy want with a doll?”

“Well, grown-ups don’t play with dolls either!
”
he had pointed out.

Yoshiko had put her head on one side and had
considered that.

“Very well,” she had said at last.
“
You may
have this one.”

Overjoyed, Alexander had grasped it to him, and thereafter, wherever he went the doll went
him.

But to Jonquil
none of the other dolls had quite the droll charm of her own. The face had a curious, whimsical expression that made her want to laugh and the round peg of a body had a slightly lopsided air that added to the clow
n
ish look.
It
was not so perfect, but it was somehow infinitely more human than any of the others.

It had taken them the whole day to pack up Yoshiko’s clothes and the things that had been collected for her from childhood, waiting for the great day when she would be a wife in her own right. They had packed them traditionally in a chest of drawers, called a “Tansu,” and a long chest, called a “Nagamochi”, and had heaved a sigh of relief when the last thing had been put in and they could still just shut the chest.

“Not that it really matters,” Yoshiko had said practically. “I could always have come back for the other things later, but it
is
nice to do the thing properly!”

Jonquil turned over sleepily on her mattress and peered out at the sunshine. Happy the bride that the sun shines on, she thought. There was no doubt about it, it was going to be a lovely day. She sat up, hugging her knees to her, and wondered what the day was going to bring. Surely Jason would not miss the wedding! Her heart beat faster at the thought. If he did come she could hardly avoid seeing him. Not that she wanted to! Indeed there was nothing she wanted more than to see him! But now that it seemed they would at last be meeting without any of the misunderstandings that had dogged their relationship ever since they had left Manila, she was unexpectedly shy of the thought of seeing him. Supposing he didn’t really want her after all
?
She didn’t really believe that, but the dreadful possibility had lurked behind everything she had done during the last week.

“Jonquil.”

She looked up to find Alexander standing in the doorway.

“Yes,” she said.

“Can we get up now? And go for a walk before breakfast?” he asked. “I’m not a bit sleepy.”

“You’ll be up very late tonight,” Jonquil reminded him.

The small boy nodded.

“But I’ve slept an awful lot,” he pleaded.

There was another knock at the door and Nobuko appeared with some tea.

“Morning,” she grunted. “Now then, Arex-san, you not to tease. You walk far enough with flowers later and you go to wedding tonight. I put you to bed after and I want to hear all that hoppen, you understand?”

Jonquil thanked her for the unexpected cup of tea and was rewarded by a wry smile.

“Very hoppy day today,” Nobuko said enigmatically
.
“What you eat for lunch?”

That question having been settled it was more than time to get up. Yoshiko would come round at any moment and it looked like being a very busy day.

It took her only a few moments to dress, but even so she was hardly ready when Yoshiko did indeed arrive. The Japanese girl came running into the house, quite breathless from her hurry.

“Oh, Jonquil,” she greeted her, “I couldn’t sleep a wink last night, could you? Do you think we ought to take the flowers round now? How long do you
think
it will take me to dress this evening? You will come round and help me, won’t you? Taki is going to wear a kimono, he told me so. I
think
he was afraid that I would wear a Western dress. Of course I wouldn’t, but I suppose he couldn’t know that! He much prefers to see me in a kimono, so it would be silly, wouldn’t it?”

“Very silly,” Jonquil agreed as Yoshiko took in a new breath.

“I am too excited, I think,” the Japanese girl said more soberly. “I must calm down.”

She sat down firmly in the middle of the room and remained motionless, apparently lost in
thought.

“I didn’t wear a kimono at the Miai,
”
she said at last. “Perhaps it was that that made him think I would want a white wedding dress.”

Jonquil looked bewildered.

“I’m not with you,” she murmured.

“But I told you!” Yoshiko said impatiently. “In Japan we meet our future husbands at a hotel, or somewhere, and then we are officially engaged and exchange gifts, the Yuino. Didn’t I tell you about it?”

“Yes
,
I think you did,” Jonquil admitted, “but I didn’t recognize the Japanese word for it.”

“Oh, I see,” Yoshiko said, magnanimously agreeing that that was reasonable. “I think I am not quite myself today,” she added thoughtfully.

The day passed all too quickly. It took them a long time to get all the flowers round to the Shinto shrine and arrange them ready for the evening. There was a language of flowers, the women explained to Jonquil. Every flower had to be in its exact position, denoting rejoicing at the wedding. There were separate set arrangements for all sorts
o
f occasions, they told her, and it was important to get them correct or the whole effect would be spoiled.

Jonquil would not have dared to compete with them in any case. She had never seen such loving care expended on flowers. The Western idea of sticking a few flowers in a vase would not have been at all acceptable. They would have considered even the best of her arrangements cluttered and meaningless, and therefore it was very much better to leave them to it, contenting herself with passing them flowers and admiring the results. Each bloom had to be perfect of its type, and she was almost shocked at the numbers that they threw away as unusable.

It was time for lunch long before she would, have believed possible, and she and Alexander had to hurry home in case they were late.

“Old Mrs. Kagami liked you,” the boy informed her. “I heard her telling one of the others. She thought it nice of you to go today.”

“How do you know?” Jonquil asked him, pleased in spite of herself. “They were all talking Japanese.”

Alexander smiled up at her.

“But I speak Japanese,” he told her.

Nobuko took charge of Alexander after lunch, so that Jonquil could help Yoshiko get ready for the evening. They spent a happy afternoon, pottering round the Matsui house getting everything ready. This was quite an undertaking. Yoshiko had put out fourteen kimonos, each one a beautiful garment in its own right, and each one had to be pressed and laid carefully on the table ready
for her to get into.

“They are so heavy I don’t: know how I shall walk,” Yoshiko laughed. “It will be a very slow procession.”

Then at last came the big moment when it really was time to get ready. Fresh from the bath, Yoshiko began to put on the kimonos, ending with the special ceremonial one, that stood out from her stiffly, held in place by a gorgeous obi. Then last of all a triangular headband, the
“Tsunokakushi.”

“You know what this is for? Yoshiko asked.

Jonquil shook her head.

“Everything seems strange to me,
”
she said. Yoshiko gave a quick, breathless laugh. “It is called a horn cover,” she explained. It is to hide the horns of jealousy that all women possess.
D
o you require one too?
”
she asked slyly
.

Jonquil chose to ignore that. Yoshiko was for ever making these little remarks, sure that Jason and Jonquil would eventually come together And Jonquil would not have minded
in
the least if she could have been anything like as sure herself! As it was it merely put her in a flutter which she rather resented, so she hastily changed the subjec
t
by telling Yoshiko of the old superstition that every bride should carry something old and something new, something borrowed and something blue, and was amused when Yoshiko insisted on carrying it out with all the solemnity of a small child.

“What can I borrow?” she cried out.

Laughingly, Jonquil handed her a clean handkerchief from her bag.

“How about this?” she suggested.

The sun was just setting when everyone gathered in the living room. Jonquil found herself introduced formally to all the women she had met that morning, some of them Yoshiko’s relatives, some of them Kagami-san’s and some of them merely friends who were taking an interest in the match. They were all in Japanese national costume except for the sprinkling of Europeans who were attending because they knew Matsui-san through his work.

At last everyone was ready and they began to set out in procession for the shrine where the wedding
w
as to take place. Yoshiko looked quite breathtakingly lovely, if a little pale, and as she had said the weight of the many kimonos made , the walk difficult for her and she was glad of the support of her father’s arm.

The shrine was not far from her father’s house, but it took them all of twenty minutes to walk it, and then the full beauty of the place burst upon them. It was a mass of flowers and candlelight, with a Shinto orchestra in the background playing for all they were worth. Weird music, it sounded to Jonquil, but her ear became accustomed to it and she grew to like it, even though at first it had sounded merely off-key.

They stood around in little groups while Yoshiko went over and stood beside Kagami-san, smil
ing
shyly up at him. Alexander had been delivered by Nobuko, who stood somewhere in the background, and he came to Jonquil, clinging tightly to her hand.

“What’s happening?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” she whispered back.

She let her eyes wander round the shrine, the flickering candles, blurring the outlines of the flowers until they all ran into each other in one blaze of beauty. The scent from the flowers lay heavily on the air, the smell of chrysanthemums mingling with the perfume of dianthus, autumn crocus and anemone. Someone came and stood beside her, but she didn’t bother to look round to see who it was, until he took her hand lightly in his and whispered:

“Miss me?”

She couldn’t answer. She tried, but no words would come, and all she could do was to answer his pressure on her hand and hope that he would understand.

“Hullo, Uncle Jason,” Alexander greeted him. “What are they doing?”

“They’re waiting for the sake,” he explained in a low voice. “Then comes the San San Kudo, they exchange cups thrice, three times in succession, three times—nine times in all, and then they are married and will inform their ancestors of the fact.”

Alexander stared at Yoshiko, suddenly removed from him by this strange ceremony that he didn’t understand.

“Did Mummy and Daddy get married like this?” he demanded.

“Ssh,” Jonquil whispered.

“Did they, Uncle Jason?”

“No, they were married in a church.”

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you afterwards,” Jason said repressively.

Alexander lowered his voice to a more suitable tone.

“Jonquil,” he began, “why doesn’t Yoshiko get married in a church?”

“This is a sort of church,” Jonquil explained. “You ask her to explain afterwards.”

“Okay, I’ll do that,” he agreed, and watched in silence as the sake was brought forward and placed in front of the bride and groom.

Jonquil was very conscious of Jason beside her as Yoshiko and Kagami Taki exchanged the little cups of rice wine, their faces serious with the solemnity of what they were doing. Soon perhaps it would be her turn to exchange vows with Jason. She gave him a quick, upward glance and he smiled at her.

After that it seemed as though the ceremony would never end. The orchestra played on and on. The marriage contract was signed and the marriage was registered, changing Yoshiko’s name for ever to that of her husband. And still the ceremonies went on.