Tango (24 page)

‘Yes, but you are different.’

‘How?’

‘You are William.’ She put her hand on his knee. ‘Many women must have fallen in love with you.’

‘I don’t know. I don’t think so.’ It was a novel thought. She took her hand away before he could cover it with his.

‘What about your banker? He must have been in love with you.’

‘Yes.’

‘And you with him?’

‘I only really loved him when he was dead.’ She sipped and smiled. ‘Now you are looking serious and sad.’

‘I am serious.’

‘It is not necessary to look it, it never helps. I know when you are serious. Is that not enough?’

‘Have some brandy.’

‘It is very early.’

‘It is.’ He handed her a glass. ‘To our new government.’

‘Our revolution.’

‘Are you serious about that?’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘Of course.’

She told him that Carlos had sent a message to the club saying that he and the junta would come in late afternoon or early evening. There was a feast in the palace for their families, after
which the menfolk would repair to the club to continue drinking and to have some girls. This was a tradition inherited from the previous government. The message had also said that the president
expected a special effort to be made. She thought this must be a coded reference to themselves but El Lizard, not knowing of the plot, was worried about it. He thought something extra was required
but didn’t know what – whether more girls, different girls, unusual clothes or some sort of live act. He was keen to find out but frightened to go to the palace himself. He had never
been there and, besides, did not know the new leaders as well as the old. He did not know their tastes.

‘So you could offer to go for him and talk to Carlos. Then you can plan,’ she said.

William thought. ‘We need to know who’s coming, we need to know who’s going to make the arrests and where. And whether soldiers or police and which ones can be
trusted.’

‘Soldiers can be trusted if the president tells them. He is popular with the army.’

‘What about the security police?’

‘I don’t know about them.’

‘And where will it happen and what will they do? I mean – physically – where?’

‘Easy. I will show you.’ She led him to the front of the house and up the main staircase, a grand construction with polished banisters and a faded red carpet. On the first floor were
rooms where she said people played cards or were ‘private together’. The two floors above were bedrooms and massage rooms.

A small staircase at the back led to the top floor and gave on to two corridors, each with doors opening off at regular intervals. She explained that they had been the maids’ bedrooms many
years before the house was a club, before anyone living could remember. Then, a year or so ago, they had been converted into massage rooms.

‘That must have been expensive.’

‘It cost nothing. The Minister of the Interior wanted it. Government workmen came.’

In alcoves by the windows there were armchairs and small tables. These, she said, were where people sat and drank while waiting to go in. She took him into the first of the rooms. It was on two
levels, with varnished floor-boards and clean white walls. On the first level, to the right of the door, was a bath set low in the floor. Leaning against the wall beside it was an inflated lilo. On
the second level were two armchairs and a large round bed with, above it, a circular ceiling mirror. Wall mirrors formed the corner behind the bed. High on one wall was an air-conditioner, and on
the other a large clock which looked like old school furniture. There was no window.

‘We have twelve of these.’

‘Do you like them?’

‘
Sí
, they are much better than the other rooms. Much cleaner.’ It was stuffy. She switched on the air-conditioner, which started with a clatter and quickly settled
into a monotonous rushing sound.

‘Why the clock?’ he asked.

‘So the girl knows the time. A massage is an hour. If the man wants more, he must pay for it – except that the government men pay nothing, of course.’

‘Do they usually want massages, the government men?’

‘Always. And not only hand massage, they want full body massage.’

‘What is that?’

‘It’s when you take off your clothes and rub their body with yours. It is more expensive.’

‘Does it stop there?’

‘They can have sex if they want it and if the girl wants. Normally they have to pay her extra, not the club. They pay the club for the massage. But the government people do not pay.’
She refolded a towel on a rail by the bath. ‘You never had massage in England?’

‘No. They have them in England but they’re not . . . well, I don’t know what they’re like. I don’t know what happens.’

‘Have you been with girls like – from places like this?’

‘No.’

She smiled. ‘You are not like other men, William.’

‘Is that good or bad?’

She took his arm. ‘Good, of course. Now, please switch off the air-conditioner. We must go downstairs.’

She thought the massage rooms would be the best place for the arrests to take place. The generals would be naked then and naked men were always more vulnerable. They would be ashamed and would
not resist. They would not have their guards with them. They could be photographed and the photographs published if they misbehaved whenever they were let out of prison. And the girls would like it
because they would be famous.

‘You sound as if you’ve done it before,’ he said.

She laughed. ‘No, but when you start to imagine, many things become possible – and why not do them? What else is the future? The government will get worse, I will get old, the
president will tire of me and I will live at home with my family and we will all be poor even if I make money now.’

‘There is an alternative. I offered—’

‘You are married to a nice girl. You cannot marry me and be cruel to her.’

‘It might not be cruel. It’s very common in England.’

‘It would be cruel to make her unhappy. It would hurt her, wouldn’t it?’

‘I expect so.’ He thought. ‘But I don’t really know any more.’

He wanted to go on talking but she walked quickly downstairs. El Lizard was at the bottom. Theresa told him that William had been inspecting the massage rooms in advance of the visits that
afternoon and that he would now, if El Lizard wished, talk to his friend the president in order to find out if there were any special requirements. It needed only that El Lizard should ring the
palace, refer to the message he had received, and say that someone was coming to discuss it.

Her tone was direct and business-like. El Lizard was obsequious and grateful to William.

‘I am delighted you had time to inspect our suite of massage rooms,’ he said, with the faintest glint of humour in his lidded eye. ‘I hope everything was
satisfactory.’

‘
Sí, gracias
.’

‘Theresa is an expert masseuse.’

‘She is a remarkable lady.’

El Lizard’s head dropped. ‘
Gracias, señor
. We try to do our best.’

He went off to the telephone. William looked at Theresa but she was doing something to her hair. When he did catch her eye she smiled from beneath her raised arm. ‘You will come also this
evening?’

‘Yes, with Arthur. We must see that it works and that you are all right.’

‘I shall have to be with Carlos.’

‘Of course.’

In the palace reception rooms military personnel and uniformed functionaries guarded, aided, prevented, bullied, cringed and lounged. A group of civilians wearing suits talked
in low voices amidst the thick cloud of cigarette and cigar smoke. They were, William learned, members of the chamber of deputies, the body that had replaced the elected parliament – summoned
even on Síerra Blanca Day to approve an urgent measure connected with the press. Approval would be automatic and they had been told they would be home in time for the feast.

William was directed to the side door that led to the president’s living quarters. As he followed the soldier who accompanied him he recognised the passage where they had smuggled in
Carlos. He was shown into a white-panelled room overlooking a small courtyard of rose bushes and lawn. French windows gave on to the courtyard where Carlos sat eating breakfast at a white table. He
wore a white silk dressing-gown and waved William to a chair with the same gesture that dismissed the soldier.

He held up a silver pot. ‘I hoped it would be you. Tea, or have you had breakfast?’

‘Yes and yes.’

Carlos poured untidily, splashing tea on to the tablecloth. He had a copy of the
New Yorker
on his lap.

‘A lot of people here today,’ William said. ‘I was surprised.’

‘Yes. I’ve got to sign something later. So I’m told.’ Carlos smiled. ‘I think they’ve all been informed that the junta has been in all-night session and that
we’re still wrestling with our consciences over this new measure. In fact, we’re going to meet later and make an announcement. I don’t suppose the others are up yet, apart from
Herrera, of course. He’s around. He always is.’

‘Will he come here?’

‘No. He knows I don’t like to talk business so early in the day. Or later, really.’ He smiled again. ‘He’s such a bore, Manuel. Always so serious, though he can be
quite charming. I can’t imagine how he will take it when we lock him up. Have you come from Theresa?’

‘Yes.’

‘I assumed you’d get the message. How is she?’

‘Very well.’

Carlos looked thoughtful. He pushed out his long lower lip with his finger. ‘She’s not the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had. That was an English girl from Wolverhampton,
strangely enough. But Theresa is probably the best all round. Probably. It’s too early to say, of course. My wife is also beautiful.’

‘I didn’t know you were married.’

‘Naturally, I am married. An unmarried president is inconceivable. That’s why I tell Manuel he could never be president even if there were no other reason. Even an unmarried officer
is unusual. That is also why I have three children. But I keep my family in another part of the palace, for security reasons. Also, one needs one’s privacy.’

William looked around the courtyard. ‘It’s very pleasant here.’

‘Yes, I am quite fond of it. It’s quiet, which is important to me. If only one didn’t have to work. Mind you, it’s not really work. It’s just talking to people.
That’s all you do when you’re president. Talk, talk, talk and sign things. That’s how I became president, just by talking. But my ranch is even more pleasant than this. You must
come there when we have everything sorted out here.’ He leaned back and stretched, exposing the tanned skin of his chest and stomach. ‘What will you do with my generals?’

‘That was what I was going to ask you.’

‘I thought Special Information Services plc would have a plan.’

‘I’m sure they will – have – but I haven’t talked to Arthur yet. I wanted to find out from you what was happening first.’

‘Arthur, yes. He is an excellent fellow. I like him. He will have a plan. But no more coffins, please.’ Carlos laughed. ‘Tell him we are all having a big feast with our wives
and families here and afterwards we will come to the club. There will not be any guards because it is a holiday and a celebration and no one knows. The arrests will have to be made by my old
regiment. They are the only ones I can trust. They are very loyal to me. The security police troops are not controlled by me and even other parts of the army I am no longer so sure about. Tell
Arthur he will need to plan how this is to be done.’

‘And what then?’

‘When my colleagues are in prison I shall be very pleased.’

‘But what after that?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What we do when you’ve locked them up. What next?’

Carlos looked irritated. ‘I head the new government, as I head this one, but with new people.’

‘Which new people? How? I mean, how does it actually happen?’

‘I will make a broadcast. I will speak to the people.’

‘But you might need help. I mean, if the security police or the Russians or Cubans—’

Carlos held up a hand. ‘Thank you, William. You have no experience of politics. Things can be done. Also, you do not know how my people love me. They will support me. And in order to get
help from your country, I will write to your Queen. Your secret service can give her the message.’ He picked up a small hand-bell and rang it. ‘They are used to passing her messages, I
suppose?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Please do not look so worried. Believe me, I know how to manage these things. I will write a letter and tomorrow your government can send warships and soldiers and lots of
money.’

‘I was just wondering whether the Queen is the right person.’

‘The prime minister, do you think?’

‘Possibly.’

‘But I am both a political figure and a head of state. So I am like both of them in one.’

‘Either, then.’

‘I will send it: “To Whom It May Concern”. That is the formula, I believe?’ He chuckled. A servant appeared and he ordered pen and paper to be brought. ‘Normally,
of course, I dictate, but this time perhaps writing would be more discreet. I am enjoying this. Are you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Especially as I shall make love with Theresa while the arrests are being made. Last night I made love with my wife. She surprises me sometimes. But the secret is not to do it very often
with one’s wife. One needs variety otherwise one loses interest and becomes impotent. The feast should be good.’

Paper and pen were brought on a tray. Carlos’s flippancy was affecting William; he could feel himself becoming nonchalant when in fact he wanted to be filled with enthusiasm. It seemed to
him that he had not done much in his life and now at last he was – or hoped he was – he wanted it to be big, dramatic and serious, not silly. He began to see Box’s dog-like
dedication in a better light.

‘There.’ Carlos passed his letter across the table. His hand was elaborate and childlike, with many loops. The letter read: ‘To Whom It May Concern: I, Carlos Calvaros,
President and General, request all such assistance in maintaining my country as I may require. Signed, Carlos Calvaros.’