Close to the Wind (4 page)

Papa beamed. ‘I employ over thirty people. It’s manufacturing mostly. Import, export.’

Angelo Vex smiled. ‘That’s impressive.’ He held a hand out. ‘It’s good to meet you.’

Papa shook his hand, but then Vex swung the torch over into the wardrobe. ‘Is someone else in there?’

Malik closed his eyes from the light. He didn’t want to come out. He wanted the men to go away. He shifted in the bottom of the damp wardrobe.

‘Malik!’ Papa reached inside and took hold of Malik’s arm. ‘I’m sorry. I had quite forgotten you. Stand up, Malik. Stand up and meet our friends.’

Hector turned to the wardrobe. ‘Is Malik here as well?’ He took hold of Malik’s other arm and helped him step out onto the floor. ‘Come out, Malik. Come out and let me see you.’ Hector slapped his back. ‘It’s been a long time. Two years at least.’

Malik wouldn’t look at the men. He stared at his bare feet.

‘I believe he may have wet himself,’ said Angelo Vex matter-of-factly.

‘Oh dear. Yes, I am so sorry,’ Papa apologized. He fumbled for a handkerchief in his pocket and handed it to Malik. ‘We were both very scared. We thought you might be … well … you can imagine, I am sure … Come on, Malik. Come with me. There’s water in the kitchen.’ He took hold of Malik’s arm again. ‘Do you have your torch?’

‘Here, take this one.’ Vex offered them his torch.

‘Thank you, thank you. But here, I have a lighter. Let me light the candle for you. I can’t leave the two of you in darkness. The curtain blocks out the light, so it’s quite safe.’

Papa relit the wick, picked up the rucksack and led Malik downstairs to the kitchen. Malik stood just inside the door, waiting for Papa to fill the bucket
with water before he removed his pants, and then he held the wet clothes at arm’s length, the tails of his white shirt covering the tops of his thin, naked legs.

‘Wash yourself down while I find your clean clothes,’ said Papa.

Malik did what he was told, then put on the dry clothes while Papa washed the wet trousers, scrubbing the legs together roughly.

‘This isn’t perfect but it will have to do.’ Papa pushed the trousers back under the surface and rubbed again. ‘Soap. That’s something else I forgot to put in the rucksack.’

Mama used lavender soap at home. Malik wished she was here washing his clothes.

‘Do you mind wearing short trousers?’

‘I don’t mind.’ Malik preferred short trousers. ‘Why are the men here?’ It felt different now they were with them. He didn’t like it. He wanted them to leave.

‘They’re hiding, Malik. Just like us. Hiding until the time is right to board the ship. You must recognize one of them? No? Not Hector Valentine? He’s been to the house for parties. He’s the family lawyer, worked for me since I set up in business.’

Malik remembered the parties at Papa’s house.
He held them twice a year, once at Christmas and once in the summer, and Malik had been expected to attend with his mother, though he never liked to go. There were always too many people and none of them were children, but Papa liked to show Malik off to his guests and he would have to stand at Papa’s side, breathing in smoke from their cigars.

No, he couldn’t remember Hector and he didn’t see why he should.

Papa wrung out Malik’s trousers and hung them on a metal bracket that jutted from the wall. He dangled the underpants from the handle of the back door. ‘I have never met Angelo Vex, but I know his reputation. He’s a very important man, Malik. Very wealthy. They say he started out selling fruit and vegetables from a market stall. He must have been some trader, eh? To go from selling fruit to where he is now.’

Malik didn’t care.

‘This is a stroke of luck. Believe me, Malik, a real stroke of luck.’

Papa reached across, took hold of Malik’s shoulder and turned him round to face the stairs. ‘Let’s go and see what they have to say for themselves.’

The two men had removed their hats. They were sitting on the floor with the candle between them.

‘Come in,’ said Hector.

Angelo Vex motioned to Papa. ‘We thought the chair must be yours. Come and sit down. And the bed is for you?’ He beckoned Malik to the mattress and Malik went and squatted on the edge. He took his first proper look at Vex and saw a man in his forties with an athletic build and hair that was thinning at the crown of his head.

It felt like these men had made the room their own and now Malik was their guest. Papa pulled his chair closer to the pair of them. Hector had set the full ashtray in front of him, together with an open carton of cigarettes and a silver lighter. He took one out and lit it. Malik watched the smoke curl over toward him.

Hector turned to Papa. ‘You must tell us everything, Salvatore. How did you get here? How long have you been here?’

Papa leaned forward. ‘We only arrived at the house a few hours ago. It has taken us two days walking.’

‘Two days? From where?’

‘From the suburbs in the west. We found our way through the back streets but it wasn’t easy.’

Vex scratched at his short moustache and Malik saw he had a fingernail that was black and pointed and longer than the rest. ‘Did you notice the Stock Exchange? I heard it was burning.’

Papa nodded. ‘We had to go out of our way because of it. And it’s not alone. There isn’t a bank that isn’t burning. Not a shop or a business that hasn’t been ransacked.’

Vex shook his head. ‘They’re going through the place like rats. They blame the bankers and the businessmen, but what can
we
do? I tell you, I’m glad I got my family away when I did. All of my accounts are frozen. I found out three days ago. The money has all gone. Vanished.’

Hector blew smoke across the room. ‘That’s not legal, either. I should know. But they can do as they please. I have also lost everything.’

Papa nodded as though he knew it was the same for everyone. ‘And how is it you’re together?’

‘We met at the docks just this afternoon.’

‘Ah,’ said Papa.

Malik felt a dull ache in his stomach. Perhaps he was hungry.

Hector stubbed the end of his cigarette into the ashtray. ‘And what about Maria? Is it just the two of you?’

Malik sat up straight at the mention of his mother’s name and Papa glanced across at him. ‘She’s not with us. She had some things to see to but she will meet us at the ship tomorrow.’

Hector looked concerned. ‘But we’ve been told that the ship won’t leave tomorrow.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘They have changed its schedule.’ Hector tapped some ash from the tip of his cigarette. ‘The ship won’t leave now till the following morning. The peacekeepers must secure the port and supervise the evacuation, but that will give time for more people to arrive and that may make things difficult for those of us without tickets.’

Malik could tell that Papa knew nothing of this. His grandfather had nothing but questions: ‘How can you know such a thing? Who told you this?’ Papa had raised his voice. He glanced over at the window before whispering, ‘There have been many different rumours.’

‘We’ve been to the docks,’ said Hector. ‘We’ve spoken to the official who will allocate places on the ship.’

‘And who is that? I use the port a lot for my work. Perhaps I know him.’

The two men hesitated. ‘It is Nicholas Massa who has the last word.’

Papa threw his hand up in disgust. ‘The man from the council?’ He shook his head. ‘He’s a crook! Always has been. He’s more guilty than anyone for this mess. How can he be involved?’

Hector shrugged. ‘He must intend to stay and fight it out. He has a finger in every pie – he always has had. Good luck to him, I say –’

‘I know this man,’ interrupted Vex. ‘I once did him a favour.’

‘And will that help you?’ asked Papa quickly. Malik didn’t like Papa asking so many questions.

Vex shrugged his shoulders. ‘Perhaps it will count for something, but unless we have money it won’t count for much.’

Papa looked quickly from one man to the other and back again. ‘No one said anything about money. They said this was a ship that had come to take families and children. They said it would take orphans.’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Hector. ‘A charity has sponsored some places for orphans. But most of the other places will be sold for cash. It’s always the way. Nothing
is ever assured in life unless you can pay for it.’

‘And do you have the money? Have the two of you already bought tickets?’ Papa was agitated and didn’t wait for the answer. ‘I mean, I have some money – it’s not much, but I had thought it might be enough for me and the boy if we needed it.’

‘How much do you have?’ asked Hector. ‘If you don’t mind me asking?’

Papa stood up. He took a leather wallet from his trouser pocket and opened it, took a fistful of notes from the back, sat down on the chair and leaned forward into the huddle of men. He held the money up. ‘Surely this is enough?’ Malik saw the two men exchange looks and Papa saw it too. ‘For heaven’s sake, I’m not trying to buy the ship.’ Papa laughed at his own joke, then stopped abruptly. ‘Listen, I don’t doubt what you say. It makes sense. It’s always about contacts.’ He lowered his voice and bent closer to the centre of their circle. ‘But how much? Did Massa tell you the price of a ticket?’

Malik leaned forward in case Hector whispered.

‘Ten thousand.’ Hector said it clearly. ‘That was the price.’

Papa dropped the money he was holding into his lap. ‘Good God, I hadn’t expected that.’

Hector stood up and walked over to the window. ‘What did you expect?’

‘I don’t know.’ Papa tugged at his beard. ‘But I didn’t expect that.’

‘How much have you got there?’ asked Vex. ‘Perhaps we should all count our cash?’

Hector took a wallet from his pocket and Vex opened up a leather satchel that he had left on the floor and took out a silver clip of notes. The men moved closer together in the candlelight, slipping banknotes from one hand to the other, muttering figures under their breath.

Hector declared his hand first. ‘Two thousand, four hundred and fifty.’

Vex said, ‘Exactly eighteen hundred.’

Papa shook his head, ‘I have four thousand, one hundred.’ He looked apologetic. ‘It’s not enough.’

Malik remembered the money he had back at home. He had kept it in a box in the chest of drawers in his bedroom, but he knew it was less than a hundred and he’d spent some of that on a book about steam trains. It wouldn’t be enough, either. ‘Mama might have some money when she arrives,’ he added helpfully.

The men didn’t respond.

Vex traced the gap between the floorboards with his finger and Hector had pulled the curtain back from the window and was watching the street.

Papa had sat back in the chair and was tugging at his short white beard. Then, out of nothing, he said, ‘Would it be cheaper for four people?’

‘For five, Papa.’ Malik was suddenly alert. ‘There will be five of us with Mama.’

‘Yes. You’re right. See what’s happened to me?’ Papa gave a short laugh. He watched Vex intently. ‘Would there be a discount if there were five of us?’

Vex appeared to have lost interest in the whole thing. He answered Papa with a sweep of his hand. ‘There’s no discount. Massa could sell the tickets five times over, I am sure. He would be doing me a favour simply by selling them to us, but we haven’t the money.’

Papa nodded. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Yes, yes. Of course.’ He put his head in his hands and looked at the floor and the room returned to silence.

Even Malik couldn’t think of a question.

He wanted to be alone. No, not alone, that would be too frightening, but he wanted to be on his own with Papa. He wanted the men to leave.

He wondered where they would sleep if they
stayed. Surely Papa wouldn’t let them stay here in this room? He would send them downstairs at the very least? But Papa showed no inclination to either speak or move. He was sitting in the chair and he was thinking. He hung his head and held onto his beard and Malik felt forgotten by him.

And he was still hungry.

Malik’s stomach began to make a sound like the radiators did at school when they had only just come on. He wondered if Papa had heard it. Perhaps it was a good time to ask for one of the apples in his pocket.

In the centre of the floor, the candle flickered and its light jigged across the floorboards. Suddenly Papa stood up. He looked at Vex, wagged a finger and smiled. ‘I know who you are.’ He walked closer to him. ‘I have heard your name spoken in all the right circles. I didn’t like to say anything and it’s none of my business, but people say you are very rich.’ Even in the candlelight, Malik could see that Papa had a glint in his eye. He smiled craftily. ‘You must be very well connected to go from a market stall to where you are now.’

Vex shook his head, annoyed. He pointed a finger back at Papa. ‘No, I really must … I have to
contradict you. That is a story which persists in following me however much I refute it.’ He came close to Papa and fixed his eyes on his face. ‘I have never owned a market stall. Please believe me. I made my money from an idea, a very simple idea – although, yes, I grant you, it did concern a vegetable.’ Vex stood toe to toe with Papa. He cupped his hand and held it up between them as though he were holding a cricket ball. ‘I noticed that an onion appeared to have a far greater volume when chopped than it does when it is whole. I bought my onions cheaply, chopped them, then packaged them as instant ingredients: healthier than fast food, but convenient. It’s a modern idea.’ He glanced at Malik as though he should be young enough to understand. ‘I marketed them to appeal to those people who believed they didn’t have the energy or the time to chop an onion.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you see? I sold them the
idea
of an onion rather than the onion itself. I sold a lifestyle. I made a simple foodstuff into a luxury product and sold my onion for forty times what it cost me.’ He smiled with satisfaction. ‘Of course, I have moved into very different fields since then – banking, selling bonds, that kind of thing – but I believe that is probably where this myth of the market stall comes from.’