The Golden Scales (34 page)

‘
Ya
Ramzi,’ she screamed.‘I told you to tidy up your things! I told you!’

‘Hey, whose house is it anyway? Eh?’

Still, he took his feet off the table and moved about the room trying to look like he was doing something. He tossed a few shirts in the direction of the bag, managing to miss with all of them. Then the effort seemed too much for him and he sank back on to the sofa, muttering to himself. Mimi reached for a packet of cigarettes on the table and lit one.

‘I can’t stand this,’ she said. ‘I can’t take it any more.’

‘Calm down, will you? I’m trying to watch this.’

Mimi gave a high-pitched scream. She picked up the remote control and threw it at the wall where it came apart with a loud crack, dropping in pieces to the floor. While the boy screamed at her, Makana took the girl’s arm and led her out of the room, through to what turned out to be the kitchen. Here the debris was an accumulative log of what had been consumed in the house over the past week or so; plastic bags and boxes from various takeaway restaurants in the neighbourhood added up to a diet of pizzas,
fateer
and roast chicken. Empty bottles testified to a high consumption of sweet fizzy drinks and beer. Mimi leaned on the counter and chewed her fingernails.

‘Is he the reason you wanted me to come over?’

‘Can’t you get rid of him?’ She paced up and down. ‘Make him go away?’

‘Who is he?’

‘He’s my cousin, so I can’t kick him out, but he’s a real bully.’ She was fighting back tears. Ramzi appeared back in the doorway, holding up the smashed pieces of the TV remote.

‘What are you going to do about this, eh?’

‘Go away!’ She put her hands over her ears. He moved towards her menacingly and Makana stepped into his way. Ramzi scowled.

‘Who are you anyway, and what do you want? Why are you defending that
sharmuta
?’

‘That’s no way to talk,’ said Makana. ‘Go back in there and calm down.’

Ramzi did the opposite. He reached for the front of Makana’s shirt and thrust him back against the wall, pushing the broken plastic pieces into his face.

‘Who’s going to fix this, eh? Who?’

Makana hit him as gently as he could. A quick punch to the solar plexus which brought Ramzi to his knees, doubled over and gasping for breath. Makana pushed him out and closed the kitchen door behind him before turning back to Mimi.

‘Your uncle is still away on business?’

‘He’s not away on business. He fled! The police are after him. He was involved in some kind of scandal. A building that collapsed. He cheated everyone. A whole family died. Anyway, Ramzi thinks he’s going to sort all that out.’

‘He seems very spirited.’

‘He’s a psychopath.’ She carried on chewing her nails as if she hadn’t seen decent food for a week which, judging by the state of the kitchen, was a distinct possibility. Makana lit a cigarette and then looked for somewhere to tip the ash. The only available space that might not catch fire was the sink, which was already cluttered with glasses and plates.

‘After you left it got me thinking, about me and Adil and everything.’ Mimi pushed herself away and crossed the room, clearing some of the discarded packets and bags and lifting herself up to sit on the counter. ‘I remembered how it was when we first met. Adil spent his entire life trying to live up to other people’s expectations . . . trying to prove that he was somehow worthy. But he never did . . . never got used to it, I mean, not really.’ Mimi tapped ash into the sink and straightened her back, suddenly assertive and sure of herself. ‘It’s what we had in common, the sense of playing a role, of constantly having to be something we didn’t feel we were, not really.’

‘Who were you trying to be?’ Makana enquired softly.

‘A thousand people, all rolled into one.’ She spoke in a dreamy way, as if talking about the world where she really belonged. ‘I thought my looks meant everything would come to me easily. And when it didn’t, I was lost. Acting was the only way forward that I could see. I had some early luck but then it all just seemed to slip away. My heart wasn’t really in it. I was set on becoming one of the golden ones. Those celebrities who shine – dazzle the world just by their presence. But that’s a tough act, all alone up there on the high wire. And I toppled off and came down hard in the wrong place. I would have come down harder if it wasn’t for Adil.’ The way she spoke, Mimi seemed to be looking back on her own life as if from a great distance.

‘I have this terrible feeling I shall never see him again,’ she finished.

She helped herself to one of Makana’s cigarettes. ‘Do you think there’s any chance for us . . . I mean, of us getting back together?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Makana.

She smoked in silence for a moment, watching him, before going on.

‘The film business is full of people trying to convince you that they are important. It’s all about bluffing your way through. Adil spent a long time telling people what a big fish he was going to be. How he was going to invest all these millions in new productions. At first people listened, the way they do. After all, Adil is not just anybody, he’s a national treasure. People like to be around celebrity like that. It makes them feel special.’

‘Then what happened?’

‘What always happens.’ She shrugged. ‘Nothing. People lose interest. When there was no sign that any of what he was saying was going to happen, they moved on.’ Mimi exhaled in an absent fashion. ‘I think Adil was hoping that all his talk of the future would somehow make somebody take an interest in him. You know, give him a part in their movie? But film people don’t work like that.’

‘It had nothing to do with Hanafi, then?’

Mimi drew back. ‘What an odd thought. You mean the old man might not want him to go into the movies? I never thought of that.’

It made sense. If Hanafi had known about Adil’s plans to go into the film world, he would have known that control of Hanafi Enterprises could never pass to his son. Had he then used his influence to close all those new doors before Adil?

‘Tell me how he ended up with Farag.’

‘That reptile belongs under a rock somewhere! He was the only one Adil could turn to, and he was already up to his neck in sordid business. Everyone knew that, except,’ she leaned her head to one side and pushed her hair behind her ear, ‘Adil, naturally. He’s always been naive that way.’

‘How did they meet?’

‘At Vronsky’s place, at one of his fabulous parties.’

‘It was Clemenza who introduced Adil to Vronsky, do you know why?’

But Mimi was already back in her own reverie. ‘The thing no one understands about Adil is how obsessive he is. When he wants something, he doesn’t take no for an answer. That’s what it was like for him with film. He was determined to get into the business, which is what led him to take up with Farag. And it was the same with me.’

‘He was obsessed with you?’

‘Some people are like that. Men in particular. Obsessed with everything. First it was football. I suppose when he was a kid Adil was mad about that. Then he lost interest and it was movies. He went to every director in town and begged and pleaded and offered them money, anything to get himself into the business.’ She stared at Makana as if she had just made a discovery. ‘It’s a disease, this obsession thing. It’s got a name.’ Her voice tailed off, then resumed. ‘Anyway, after that, he wanted me.’ She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. ‘I imagined this whole life we would have together. Such a glamorous couple, going to all the parties. That’s how it works in this country. A director or producer sees you and that’s it. The doors open.’ She laughed, a hollow, empty sound that echoed up from some place deep inside her. ‘I guess I was a little obsessed with him too. Now I just want to leave, really. It’s all I dream about. Just get out of this country. This city. I can’t breathe here.’

‘What’s stopping you?’

‘I told you, I spent all the money. And besides, what would he do without me?’

A crimson beam from the setting sun caught Makana’s eye and he glanced out of the window. He could see a thin plume of dust whirling across the empty square below. A jinn, they used to call them, whipping itself round and round and away into the distance.

‘Tell me more about what went on at Vronsky’s place?’

‘Vronsky has contacts with Russians all over the place, girls willing to do anything. And so he organises these parties. Wild, lavish affairs. Legendary. Very exclusive. He invites top people.’

‘What kind of people?’

Mimi aimed the ash from her cigarette into a Styrofoam box and tapped. ‘Politicians. Businessmen. The kind with lots of money. They would come down to the coast and lie around for three days, drinking and screwing.’

‘Where does he get the girls?’

‘He flies them in. Costs him nothing. Contacts, you know. Actresses, he calls them, but they don’t act in any films I’ve ever seen. They walk around like glamorous princesses, but there is nothing innocent about them. I mean, I don’t mind talking to people, having a bit of fun, but these girls, they were dirty.’

‘What was Farag’s connection? Was he filming at these parties?’

‘If he did so, he did it secretly. I mean, I never saw him with his camera, except for that first time when he persuaded Adil that he was going to turn him into a star.’

Makana thought it over. If Vronsky were looking for ways of blackmailing politicians and businessmen, then Farag would be just the man to provide the evidence. Vronsky wanted to build an empire and there was nothing he wouldn’t stoop to to get what he wanted.

‘Adil used to say that Vronsky was going to get him what he deserved.’

‘What did he mean by that?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘He wouldn’t tell me more than that.’

‘When did it all go wrong between them?’

‘I told you last time – after he came back from the exhibition match in Sudan.’ Mimi gnawed some more on her fingernails. ‘Everything changed after that.’

‘Including his relationship with you?’

All she could manage in response to this was a brief nod.

‘It all got out of hand: the parties, the drinking, the drugs. One of the girls who worked there, at the resort, died. I heard that she killed herself, but maybe it wasn’t that. Maybe she was killed. That’s what I’m thinking now. What if she was killed because she knew something?’

‘You think Vronsky might have killed her?’

‘Dunya, that was her name. She was really popular. Just this simple
baladi
girl. The funny thing is . . . she had a thing for Adil. She was really fond of him, like a little puppy following him around. And he . . . well, he didn’t do anything to discourage her. It annoyed me. He said he couldn’t help it.’

‘You think that’s why she killed herself?’

‘Like I said, maybe she didn’t. Maybe she was murdered and that’s why Vronsky was so angry with Adil. He knew who did it.’

‘You’re saying Vronsky had the girl killed?’

‘Sure. Why not? All they would have to do is get rid of the body.’ The way she told it made it sound completely obvious.

‘How would they do that?’

‘Probably they took her out and dropped her in the sea. There are sharks out there, you know, and all kinds of other things.’

‘Who was she?’

‘Dunya? I don’t know, she just worked there.’ There was something about his response which made her lose her temper. ‘You don’t believe me,’ she said, upset. ‘Why would I make up something like that?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe you’d like to get your revenge.’

‘I told you, I’m finished with all of them, finished with this country. All I want is enough money to leave. You’re like the rest of them. You think I am just a mixed-up girl whose head needs examining, making up stories for the hell of it.’

She was scared. Makana kicked himself for not having seen it before.

‘You need the money because you’re afraid? That’s why you want to get out of the country?’

‘Vronsky is a very dangerous man.’ Her voice had dropped to a whisper.

Makana decided it was time for him to go. He moved towards the door to the hall, hoping to avoid the psychopathic cousin. He reached into his pocket for the envelope and handed what was left to Mimi.

‘Buy yourself a ticket. Get away somewhere. It doesn’t matter where, just out of this town.’

‘I have relatives in Beirut.’

‘That sounds good. You have my number. You can call me when you’re there.’

‘What about Adil?’

‘Let me know where you are, and as soon as I know something I’ll call you.’

Mimi looked down at the envelope and Makana told himself he was a fool. Most likely she would waste it on whatever she was smoking or sniffing and that would be the end of it. Still, sometimes you had to take a chance on people, otherwise where would we all be?

As he stepped out into the hallway there was a cry from his left. He jerked back instinctively as a tall vase narrowly missed his head. There was a rush of air as it went by and then a crimson flower of enamelled porcelain exploded against the wall. Turning, Makana put his hand to Ramzi’s head and thrust him back and round, using his own momentum to send the youth spinning into the wall. Ramzi’s face crashed into a mirror which splintered, silver shards of glass raining down on him as he fell.