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Authors: Maureen Lindley
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the water he pulled me close. I clasped my feet behind his buttocks and he moaned with pleasure. We fitted so well together, as perfectly as the carving that old man Teshima had given me on my fifteenth birthday.
Sex with Yamaga was unlike any that I had experienced before. Lips on lips, tongue on tongue, our arms around each other, our appetites equal, I could find no fault in him. I felt complete, a new experience for me, as usually after lovemaking I was ready for the next lover to fill the void that had previously accompanied me through life. I didn't doubt for one moment that Yamaga was as eager to spend his life with me as I was to spend mine with him. When he told me that I was so special that the world had only space for one Yoshiko, my confidence that he would agree to our marrying could not have been higher.
We ate a supper of chicken and peppers and marvelled at how delicious food always tasted after lovemaking. I fed Yamaga the almonds preserved in salt that he loved and we shared one of my Turkish cigarettes. He always laughed when I smoked, saying that women smoking looked wrong somehow, like monkeys swimming.
I thought briefly that I might tell him of the abortion and grieve with him over what had become in my mind our joint loss, but we were so happy that I could not bear to spoil things. Against reason, I told myself that doctors are not always right and that women have a great capacity to heal. For once in my life I looked to the gods to shower me with luck and to so repair my past that it might never have been.
That night, as we lay together in my rosewood bed, I suggested that we should begin the plans for our marriage. Yamaga must go to Kawashima and formally ask for his permission. I spoke of my large dowry and joked that he would be getting a princess from a noble family, and I would be getting a soldier who would one day be a great Japanese hero. We would have a successful and wonderful life together in the new Japan.
Yamaga's body tensed and he rolled away from me and left the bed. There was a long, confusing silence only broken when he gave a short embarrassed laugh.
'You must know, Yoshi, that Kawashima would never agree to a marriage between us. It would be pointless to ask him,' he said.
'No, he will agree,' I cried. 'He cannot keep me here for ever, he must choose a husband for me, so why should it not be you, Yamaga? He admires you and desires your friendship. Why else would he have sent you to me?'
Already at a distance from me, Yamaga put his hands in front of him like a barrier between us.
'I do not love you, Yoshiko,' he said with a cutting honesty. 'Even if I did, I could not marry you. You are delicious and I desire you, but you are too brazen to be my wife. You are notorious in Tokyo and to marry you would bring shame on my father's house and break my mother's heart. I have obligations I intend to meet, and to do so I will marry a modest woman.'
I froze at his words, unable to move. My skin felt painfully thin and transparent. Yamaga must surely see my heart breaking, my blood pounding, veins, tendons, liver, all shrinking. Must surely take pity on me. He did not love me and suddenly, like Tokyo after the earthquake, the landscape of my life had changed. I had revealed myself to him and he had rejected me. He wanted a subservient wife who would defer to him in all things.
'How can it be that I am notorious?' I sobbed. 'I am Kawashima's daughter.'
Yamaga shook his head. 'Kawashima has not used you well,' he said. 'From the moment you were given to him, his plans for you were not those of an honourable father.'
I knew he spoke the truth, I knew too that my nature was different to that of Kawashima's daughters, and that despite being used by him I would not have wished for his daughters' powerless lives. I said as much to Yamaga and he smiled.
'Never underestimate the power of respectable women, Yoshiko,' he said. 'Those wives in Tokyo whose husbands come to you know it and
Sex with Yamaga was unlike any that I had experienced before. Lips on lips, tongue on tongue, our arms around each other, our appetites equal, I could find no fault in him. I felt complete, a new experience for me, as usually after lovemaking I was ready for the next lover to fill the void that had previously accompanied me through life. I didn't doubt for one moment that Yamaga was as eager to spend his life with me as I was to spend mine with him. When he told me that I was so special that the world had only space for one Yoshiko, my confidence that he would agree to our marrying could not have been higher.
We ate a supper of chicken and peppers and marvelled at how delicious food always tasted after lovemaking. I fed Yamaga the almonds preserved in salt that he loved and we shared one of my Turkish cigarettes. He always laughed when I smoked, saying that women smoking looked wrong somehow, like monkeys swimming.
I thought briefly that I might tell him of the abortion and grieve with him over what had become in my mind our joint loss, but we were so happy that I could not bear to spoil things. Against reason, I told myself that doctors are not always right and that women have a great capacity to heal. For once in my life I looked to the gods to shower me with luck and to so repair my past that it might never have been.
That night, as we lay together in my rosewood bed, I suggested that we should begin the plans for our marriage. Yamaga must go to Kawashima and formally ask for his permission. I spoke of my large dowry and joked that he would be getting a princess from a noble family, and I would be getting a soldier who would one day be a great Japanese hero. We would have a successful and wonderful life together in the new Japan.
Yamaga's body tensed and he rolled away from me and left the bed. There was a long, confusing silence only broken when he gave a short embarrassed laugh.
'You must know, Yoshi, that Kawashima would never agree to a marriage between us. It would be pointless to ask him,' he said.
'No, he will agree,' I cried. 'He cannot keep me here for ever, he must choose a husband for me, so why should it not be you, Yamaga? He admires you and desires your friendship. Why else would he have sent you to me?'
Already at a distance from me, Yamaga put his hands in front of him like a barrier between us.
'I do not love you, Yoshiko,' he said with a cutting honesty. 'Even if I did, I could not marry you. You are delicious and I desire you, but you are too brazen to be my wife. You are notorious in Tokyo and to marry you would bring shame on my father's house and break my mother's heart. I have obligations I intend to meet, and to do so I will marry a modest woman.'
I froze at his words, unable to move. My skin felt painfully thin and transparent. Yamaga must surely see my heart breaking, my blood pounding, veins, tendons, liver, all shrinking. Must surely take pity on me. He did not love me and suddenly, like Tokyo after the earthquake, the landscape of my life had changed. I had revealed myself to him and he had rejected me. He wanted a subservient wife who would defer to him in all things.
'How can it be that I am notorious?' I sobbed. 'I am Kawashima's daughter.'
Yamaga shook his head. 'Kawashima has not used you well,' he said. 'From the moment you were given to him, his plans for you were not those of an honourable father.'
I knew he spoke the truth, I knew too that my nature was different to that of Kawashima's daughters, and that despite being used by him I would not have wished for his daughters' powerless lives. I said as much to Yamaga and he smiled.
'Never underestimate the power of respectable women, Yoshiko,' he said. 'Those wives in Tokyo whose husbands come to you know it and
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