have sons of your own. They have their wild phase when they’re young, but then they settle down and take over the household, just like their fathers.’
‘But you weren’t forced to marry a stranger, Mother. You and Father …’
General Kitaoka had never been a stern patriarch, aloof and distant, like other girls’ fathers. When he’d lived there with them she’d seen him stroke her mother’s hair when he thought no one was looking, and pillow his great head on her bosom. She knew how much they cared about each other.
It was nearly three years now since he’d fallen out with his colleagues, resigned his government positions, packed his bags and disappeared in a cloud of dust at the head of a train of rickshaws. Every now and then a letter came. He was a gentleman farmer now, he wrote. He hunted, he fished, he walked in the hills with his dogs, he practised swordsmanship, he read books, he wrote poetry. Sometimes Taka tried to picture his new life. She knew he lived with his samurai wife in the city of Kagoshima in Satsuma province, at the southernmost tip of the island of Kyushu, so far away it seemed like the end of the world. How dreary it must be, she thought, after the culture of Kyoto and the excitement of Tokyo.
When he’d left she’d wished he’d taken them with him to Kagoshima. It would have been so easy just to set them all up – her mother, her brother and her – in a separate house, away from his wife. But now she was relieved he’d left them behind in Tokyo. She couldn’t imagine a worse fate than to be exiled to such a place.
Nevertheless, no matter how strange and inconsistent his behaviour, she knew he would not have forced her into marriage. He was too unconventional and he loved her too much.
‘I’d rather be a geisha, like you.’ She’d blurted out the words before she could stop herself. Her mother bristled.
‘That’s quite enough. We’re the subordinate family of General Kitaoka and don’t you forget it. We’ve all come up in the world and I’m certainly not going to let you bring down the family name. You’ll do much much better than I ever could. And that’s an end to it.’
‘But why did you spend all that money to have me educated if all you intended was to marry me off and have me spend my life locked away in someone’s house?’ Taka wailed. ‘It’s no better than being a servant. Why can’t I work? I’ll teach poetry, or painting.’ Her mother raised her caterpillar eyebrows. ‘I know I’m just a woman, but I can be a scholar, a good scholar,’ Taka added miserably, trying to drive the mocking smile from Fujino’s face. ‘I’ll be the first woman scholar. You wanted me to be progressive. That would be very progressive.’
Her mother flapped her fan impatiently.
‘I knew all that education wouldn’t do you any good. I told your father so,’ she sighed. ‘You’ve turned out just like him, dear, and, I have to confess, like me, too – headstrong. I suppose I couldn’t have expected a geisha’s daughter to be as well behaved as a samurai girl. But you’ll do as you’re told all the same.’
The maids had brought in tea and she poured out a cup each for Taka and herself, then leaned forward and patted her hand.
‘But you’re right, my dear. This is the age of civilization and enlightenment and we do things the modern way. Masuda-
sama
is eager to see you so I’ve invited him over to meet your brother. You’ll welcome him and serve tea. I can assure you, you’ll be won over. Such a charming young man. You see, I have no terrible secrets to conceal.’
Taka was startled. It was quite unheard of for a man to look over his bride before the wedding day. If her father had been here he would never have allowed it. It was only because her mother was a geisha and had no idea of the way respectable people behaved, she thought.
‘In fact he’s coming this afternoon. I only wish your father could have been here too.’ Fujino’s voice had
‘But you weren’t forced to marry a stranger, Mother. You and Father …’
General Kitaoka had never been a stern patriarch, aloof and distant, like other girls’ fathers. When he’d lived there with them she’d seen him stroke her mother’s hair when he thought no one was looking, and pillow his great head on her bosom. She knew how much they cared about each other.
It was nearly three years now since he’d fallen out with his colleagues, resigned his government positions, packed his bags and disappeared in a cloud of dust at the head of a train of rickshaws. Every now and then a letter came. He was a gentleman farmer now, he wrote. He hunted, he fished, he walked in the hills with his dogs, he practised swordsmanship, he read books, he wrote poetry. Sometimes Taka tried to picture his new life. She knew he lived with his samurai wife in the city of Kagoshima in Satsuma province, at the southernmost tip of the island of Kyushu, so far away it seemed like the end of the world. How dreary it must be, she thought, after the culture of Kyoto and the excitement of Tokyo.
When he’d left she’d wished he’d taken them with him to Kagoshima. It would have been so easy just to set them all up – her mother, her brother and her – in a separate house, away from his wife. But now she was relieved he’d left them behind in Tokyo. She couldn’t imagine a worse fate than to be exiled to such a place.
Nevertheless, no matter how strange and inconsistent his behaviour, she knew he would not have forced her into marriage. He was too unconventional and he loved her too much.
‘I’d rather be a geisha, like you.’ She’d blurted out the words before she could stop herself. Her mother bristled.
‘That’s quite enough. We’re the subordinate family of General Kitaoka and don’t you forget it. We’ve all come up in the world and I’m certainly not going to let you bring down the family name. You’ll do much much better than I ever could. And that’s an end to it.’
‘But why did you spend all that money to have me educated if all you intended was to marry me off and have me spend my life locked away in someone’s house?’ Taka wailed. ‘It’s no better than being a servant. Why can’t I work? I’ll teach poetry, or painting.’ Her mother raised her caterpillar eyebrows. ‘I know I’m just a woman, but I can be a scholar, a good scholar,’ Taka added miserably, trying to drive the mocking smile from Fujino’s face. ‘I’ll be the first woman scholar. You wanted me to be progressive. That would be very progressive.’
Her mother flapped her fan impatiently.
‘I knew all that education wouldn’t do you any good. I told your father so,’ she sighed. ‘You’ve turned out just like him, dear, and, I have to confess, like me, too – headstrong. I suppose I couldn’t have expected a geisha’s daughter to be as well behaved as a samurai girl. But you’ll do as you’re told all the same.’
The maids had brought in tea and she poured out a cup each for Taka and herself, then leaned forward and patted her hand.
‘But you’re right, my dear. This is the age of civilization and enlightenment and we do things the modern way. Masuda-
sama
is eager to see you so I’ve invited him over to meet your brother. You’ll welcome him and serve tea. I can assure you, you’ll be won over. Such a charming young man. You see, I have no terrible secrets to conceal.’
Taka was startled. It was quite unheard of for a man to look over his bride before the wedding day. If her father had been here he would never have allowed it. It was only because her mother was a geisha and had no idea of the way respectable people behaved, she thought.
‘In fact he’s coming this afternoon. I only wish your father could have been here too.’ Fujino’s voice had
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