Chapter 14
All Right for Some
Neither Ção nor her mother answered the door when Ed went around, early the next morning, intending to talk to Ção before she went to work. He listened outside the flat door, but he heard no sound within. He walked through the city, hoping that the cool Spring breeze and the morning light would clear his mind of dark thoughts. When he reached the travel agency where Ção worked, she was not at her desk. Nor had she called in sick. Ed recognised one of the secretaries from his celebratory dinner at the Índia Antiga. It seemed a long time ago. He spoke to her.
“Oh, I shouldn’t worry if I were you. Ção often does this. She’ll probably drop in later, like she usually does. Shall I ask her to phone you?”
Ção’s scant regard for office hours was news to Ed. He phoned her father’s house, but no-one answered. Ed did not have Mr. Cunha’s office number. He left the agency and headed back to Largo do Andaluz. It occurred to him that he should check whether he was being followed. He stopped, started again, doubled back, scrutinised reflections in shop windows, looked carefully at people around him. As far as he could tell, nobody was following him. Let’s not get paranoid.
His flat was as he had left it. He started to make a list of the things he would have to replace. It was long. Well, he was still rich. Relatively.
In the late afternoon, he phoned the agency. Ção answered.
“Don’t ask. You know I was with my mother. She needs me so much, much more than you do. She isn’t strong like you. What have you got us into, Ed, eh?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“Well, don’t expect me back at Largo do Andaluz until you’ve turned it into a proper home again. One that we can live in, in peace.”
“Look, my love, we can stay at the flat in Cascais. There’s everything we need there.”
“Do me a favour, Ed, just get off my back, will you? I’ve got enough things to deal with as it is.”
“What? Tell me, Ção, please.”
“You wouldn’t begin to understand.”
“OK. When you’re ready to tell me, I’m here.”
This time, Ed put the phone down. Gently. So this was what married life was going to be like, after the first year. No, it wasn’t! He would talk some sense into her, sooner rather than later.
Ed received a quick reminder that he, too, had other things to deal with. Paulo phoned, and then, not wanting to go into details over the phone, came to Largo do Andaluz and straight to the point.
“It’s bad news, Ed, I’m afraid. The big boys have noticed us, and they say we’re infringing on their territory. They want you out.”
“What, me in particular?”
“Yes, you in particular. They don’t take kindly to an English amateur doing what they see as their job. What’s worse, in their eyes, is that he’s making a success of it.”
“Thanks a million. It’s good to be appreciated.”
“So they’ve warned you, gently, as they say, and they want you to know that their next warning will be more ... incisive was the word.”
“They seem to think I scare easily. I don’t.”
“After that, they say they’ll shop you to their friends in the police.”
“I see you’ve had a good long chat with these guys, Paulo.”
“Yes, they weren’t hard to find. I got the feeling they were expecting me.”
“Your pretty little face looks unmarked to me. How come they weren’t incisive with you?”
“Cool down, Ed. I warned you that this would happen. I was prepared for it, what do you think? I managed to convince them that my skills and my knowledge were worth more to them than my blood.”
“You did a deal with them?”
“Let’s say that their hostile takeover bid was successful. I’m now a manager instead of my own boss. I can live with that, as long as my heart keeps pumping and the money keeps flowing.”
“Bloody hell, Paulo. What about our network?”
“Anyone who wants to can stay in it, for the time being. On probation, as it were. The stakes will be higher, though. As will the rewards.”
Ed stared at him, but the face in front of him betrayed no emotion. This was not Paulo his friend. This was another creature entirely. Ed felt sick.
“How could you?”
“Self-preservation. Like a cypress, I bend in the wind so that I don’t break. It’s a good strategy, Ed. You should follow it.”
“I think you’d better leave, Paulo. Now.”
“OK, Ed, no problem. By the way, one of their heavies asked me to give you this.”
He took a sealed, unaddressed envelope from a pocket of his light jacket and handed it to Ed. As soon as Paulo left, Ed tore the envelope open. Inside was a key and a sheet of paper. The addresses of Ção’s parents and of the travel agency were written on the sheet of paper. The key would have opened his flat door before he changed the lock.
On the day that Portugal’s Constituent Assembly completed its work and passed the new, democratic Constitution which guaranteed civil liberties and workers’ rights, Ed set out on a round of meetings with the people he knew individually in his marijuana distribution network. Three of them formed the layer of the pyramid below him, and each had three others under them. Ed explained that he was bowing out, and why, outlined what he saw as their options, answered their questions, thanked them for their work and wished them well. He got a mixed reception. However, nobody assaulted him physically, and a couple of them expressed relief at having an excuse to concentrate on legitimate business once again. Ed shrugged off the complaints, and felt glad that he had found twelve business people whom he could trust. He might need them, or be able to help them, in the future.
Paulo kept phoning him. If he did not find Ed at Largo do Andaluz, he tried Cascais, and vice versa. He said he could not stand there being bad blood between them, and that he was in no hurry to call in the loans he had made to Ed.
“You’re my long-term security, Ed. I mean it: long-term.”
Ed was no longer sure he could trust Paulo, but he needed to hear those words. He had plenty of cash, but a lot less than he owed Paulo, and no income other than the low rent that he charged Seamus and Len. As he devised and discarded schemes which might improve that state of affairs, he put his cash to good use preparing both his flats for Ção’s return. It involved a lot of shopping.
Ção was elusive. Neither she nor her mother could be found. He went to the agency; she had stopped coming in. He could not find her at the Law School on evenings when she had classes scheduled. Ed again collared her father when he left his office. Mr. Cunha was less hostile this time, but said he had not seen his daughter for a month and did not know where she was: he had assumed she was with Ed, and expressed concern over her mental state.
“Don’t worry too much, young man. I’ll find her, if she doesn’t find me first. She still needs her Daddy, like any girl would.”
Ed was sprucing up the kitchen one morning, feeling bereft, when Ção phoned out of the blue. He had the windows open to let in the air and the April sunlight. The level of street noise meant that, at first, he did not hear the telephone ringing in the party room. However, Ção insisted.
“Did you see it?”
“Ção, my love! How are you? Where are you?”
“Never mind. I’m fine. Did you see the programme?”
“What programme? Even your father is worried about you!”
“The quiz!”
“Ção, my love, you know I don’t have time to watch such things.”
“We all watched it together, Ed, you must remember, and then Mark went on it, and he won! He won lots and lots of money! He’s even richer than you are now!”
“That isn’t difficult, my sweet. My career as a rich man is enjoying a little hiatus. But I’ll soon get it back on track, with your help. When can we meet? I need to see you, to touch you.”
“You will see me, Ed darling. Just be patient until we come to the end of this little hiatus.”
She made the sound of a long sloppy kiss and hung up, gently. Ed stared at the receiver, took a deep breath and placed it in its cradle.
Well, good for Mark. At least someone’s happy.
Ed phoned Mark to congratulate him and arrange a celebratory drink or several. Ed suggested a café near the English Council, so that he could visit the library afterwards, but Mark ruled that out: he had become such a local celebrity that they would not be left in peace. Instead they met in the Café Suiça, in the city centre, where Ed had paid his wager debt to Keith. This time the drinks were on Mark. He was radiant.
“How d’you like my new suit, old chap? I had it made to measure by a super little tailor, just around the corner from here. You should try him.”
“I’m not the suit sort, these days. Anyway, I’ve already got a couple.”
“You can never have too many suits, you know. Oh, I’m going to buy so many things for Simone, too! She really deserves it!”
“It’s a good job you like shopping.”
“When it’s for her I do. She was so good when I was out of work after those silly soldiers spoiled my plans!”
“So tell me about your show.” Ed sat back and raised his glass.
“Oh, it was easy really. I have all this useless general knowledge, and at last it came in handy. And I’m not the kind of person who’ll freeze under the cameras, or any sort of pressure actually: cool, calm and collected. Well, you know me.” Mark scratched his beard and smirked. Ed nodded and smiled. He was happy to see his friend enjoying life again. “And then there were the specialist questions. And my topic was ecology.”
“Ecology? What’s that when it’s at home?”
“The environment and stuff. While you lot have been prancing around with Marx and Mao and Movements, I’ve been looking at the world’s long-term future, if it’s got one. Have you read Silent Spring? Well, you should. Anyway, I’ve become quite an expert on environmental issues, though I don’t go on and on about it. I dare say I know more than the people who wrote the questions, they were so easy!”
“My, you are a dark horse, Mark. Good for you! What else are you an expert on?”
Mark looked over his spectacles and chuckled.
“What are you going to do with all the dosh, Mark? Have you thought?”
“First of all, I’m going to get you and I drunk on G and T.” Mark signalled to a waiter for two more gin and tonics. They arrived promptly.
“Well, apart from the frivolous stuff, of which there will be plenty, and in which I hereby invite you and your good lady wife to partake, I mean participate, I think I shall take the good advice which I once dispensed to you.”
“That clifftop village?”
“Azenhas do Mar! I’m going to buy up as much of it as I can, and then do something with it. I haven’t decided exactly what yet, but it’ll be something that makes me even richer. Cheers!”
“Cheers! Here’s to you!”
On the evening of his anniversary, Ed came home from the supermarket to find his wife sitting at the top of the stairs outside his flat door. He saw her legs as he turned the corner midway up the final flight. For a second, he thought he was hallucinating. She thrust a bunch of carnations at him.
“For you.”
Hearing her husky voice made him realise she was real. All of her. He took the flowers.
“My key didn’t work in the lock. I guess you must’ve changed it, is that right, Ed?”
Ed put down his groceries, pulled out his own key, opened the flat door and went in. Ção followed him in. Ed walked into the kitchen, put the flowers on the table and started to put his groceries away.
“Haven’t you got anything to say?”
“Plenty. I’m not sure where to start. Why have you come here? Why now?”
“It’s our anniversary, silly. Two years of happy marriage.” She slipped her jacket off.
Ed’s head began to swim. He sat down. Ção stepped out of her shoes. She eased her short skirt to the ground, then bent and rolled down her panties. Looking Ed straight in the eyes, she straightened up, unbuttoned her blouse and shed that, too. Without breaking eye contact, she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, then shook her shoulders so that it fell to the floor. She moved to Ed and rubbed her breasts in his face. The aroma of cinnamon filled his nostrils. Ed got to his feet, clasping Ção and lifting her as he did so. His head cleared, he carried her down the hall, into their bedroom, where the smell of fresh paint battled with Ção’s scent. Ed placed his wife on the new counterpane. She tugged at his belt and unzipped his trousers. While he focused his senses on the feel of her skin below his hands, she thrust her hand beneath his briefs and pulled out his stiff penis. She guided it inside her, crying his name. Ed’s orgasm was furious and fast. He stayed inside her for the minutes it took for him to get hard again. Ção was crying. Her sobs touched his heart, and comforted him. He took his time, and made sure Ção came before he did. Then he cleaned up, took off all of his clothes, and again made love to his wife, slowly and silently. After each orgasm, he rested inside her until his penis swelled and she asked him to make love to her once more. They drifted into sleep. In the small hours, Ed woke and realised that he was alone.
Three days later, Portugal marked the second anniversary of its Revolution by holding a general election. Again, voters were eager and the turnout high. Despite the upheavals, there had been no big shift in people’s preferences since the year before, and party representation in the new Parliament was similar to that in the Constituent Assembly, which could now disband. The task of directly electing a President was scheduled for the summer. The Monarchists, like Ção’s Maoists, were among the tiny parties who failed to get anyone into Parliament.
Mark Rotherfield found his flash of celebrity extending beyond its allotted span. Advertisers saw his louche, increasingly dandified appearance, coupled with a few words of posh English, or Portuguese with a heavy accent, as just the job for giving their products a competitive advantage, now that he was associated with success. Commercial offers poured in. Mark used some of the money they generated to bolster his image and have a good time, but he poured a far greater amount towards fulfilling his dream of buying up the village on the cliffs. Although he became surrounded by leeches, he did not forget his few friends. He took Ed to lunch at the Trindade beer hall. They sat below elaborate tiles in praise of trade and industry, replete with Masonic symbols. Mark insisted that they indulge in the fresh seafood. He had shaved off his beard and bought contact lenses. He now looked directly at Ed.
“Ed old chap, you were so good to me when I was broke. Even before then, when I was being a stupid silly snob towards you. No, let me finish. Don’t think I’ve forgotten. Last time, down at the Suiça, I was so full of myself and my win that I forgot to ask about you. Well, I’ve heard about you since, and I’m really sorry that you’ve lost your business and then your wife.”
Ed, the vicar’s son, was moved to profanity.
“My wife? The fuck I’ve lost my wife!”
“I’m sorry, that’s what I heard.”
“The fuck I’ve lost my fucking wife! Are you out of your mind?”
“Sorry. Just what I heard.”
“What other fucking shit have you heard?” Ed felt like hitting his friend, but he wanted an answer first.
“Well, that you’d been forced out of the drug business by the Mafia. It doesn’t seem terribly clear which Mafia. And that you were in need of remunerated employment, the University being not entirely punctual in paying its employees. Which is where I come in.”
Ed brought his temper under control, so that he could answer with words rather than punches.
“Well, it’s common knowledge about the University. But what the hell did you mean about Ção?”
“Never mind Ção, for the time being. I don’t know where on Earth she is, or what she’s doing, or why. Nice kid, but not my concern or responsibility. Let me tell you my plans, and what I can do for you.”
Ed looked at the spider crab claw in front of him and felt like vomiting. He took a deep breath, blinked, took a swig of the dark beer and looked at Mark.
“OK. Now tell me something I can believe.” He still felt sick.
Mark seemed oblivious to the danger he was in from Ed’s temper.
“Look, I’ve realised there’s no way I can buy the whole of Azenhas, but I’m already in the process of buying enough to make my voice the loudest that can be heard in the village. I can decide its future, if I grease enough palms, which I’m happy to do. Spread the love.”
Ed had his breathing under control.
“Sure. I know the scene. Go on.”
“What this country needs is a casino. One for real people and serious gamblers. Not that cardboard replica at Estoril, where poor little rich kids go to look at each other, but a place for serious gamblers. What better than a tailor-made casino in a romantic location, with no distractions, for serious gamblers, even if they’re not upper-class prats like me?”
“Whatever turns you on, Mark. What’s it got to do with me?”
“Ed, you are the ideal person to run it! You’re a business man, you’re smooth, you’re suave, you’re even honest. Especially honest. I’d trust you with my wife; better, with my life. You know languages, you’re numerate, down-to-earth. People trust you. You’re the best person in the world I could find to run my casino.”
“You’re very kind, Mark, but there’s one major problem: I don’t want to run a fucking casino. Look, I believe people should earn their money, not get it for nothing, and I especially believe they shouldn’t be lured into losing the money they’ve earned in the pursuit of money for nothing.”
“Wow! Mister High And Mighty. Think about it, Ed. Are you really in a position to refuse such a chance?”
“Look, Mark, I wish you well, and every success, in this venture and in whatever you do, but I’ve had enough of offers I can’t refuse. Yes, I am in a position – I’d rather starve.”
“Ed, damn you, I’ll see you don’t starve.”
Ed relaxed. Mark was on his side. They moved up to the whole-litre measures of beer served in mugs known as “giraffes”.
Ed waited for Ção to re-appear, as she had on the day of their anniversary. Every time he turned the corner on the last flight of steps leading up to his flat, he expected to see her shoes, her ankles, her calves, her soft knees, the smooth skin of her thighs. Each time he was disappointed.
What he did not expect was a phone call from Mr. Cunha. Ção’s father sounded sad, hesitant.
“Mr. Scripps, I’ve been in touch with my daughter. Have you seen her recently, by any chance?”
“Not since April the twenty-second. How is she? Where is she?”
There was a sigh at the other end of the line.
“She is fine. She doesn’t want you to know where she is. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, though I imagine you must have calculated already the way things are.”
“No, I haven’t. What do you mean?”
Another sigh.
“Mr. Scripps, I cannot tell you where she is, but I can tell you whom she is with.”
“Who she’s with? Tell me!”
“This gives me no pleasure. I would rather she had stayed with you. I know you’ve done your best to be a decent husband to her. Excuse me. Let me come to the point. The name is João.”
John the Traitor!
“João? What’s the full name? Where does he live?”
“The full name is Maria João Nascimento Arantes. Known as João. I don’t know where she lives. Somewhere near Coimbra, I think. Ção is with her.”
The world closed in on Ed. All that was left of it was the receiver in his hand and the words echoing in his head.
“I see. What else can you tell me? Please!”
“I don’t have a phone number, I don’t have an address. All I can tell you is that the woman is an unmarried mother. She has a small daughter, of whom the father has custody.”
Ção the Traitor!
Ed felt numb, but lucid.
“And your own wife, or ex-wife, do you know where she is? She doesn’t answer her phone these days.”
“I think she is still in Canada.”
“Canada?!”
“She went to visit relatives of hers there sometime after Christmas.”
“Christmas?! Please, if you hear anything more, tell me.”
“I will.”
“Thank you.”
Ed put the phone down, and sat down. It rang again, and he grabbed it.
“Yes?”
A woman’s voice spoke.
“Edward Clement Scripps? This is the Administration Office of the Old University of Lisbon. Kindly report here at three-thirty tomorrow afternoon to sign your contract and swear the oath of loyalty. You will receive your salary, including all back pay, from the end of this month. Bring your passport.”