Wind of Destiny

by Christopher Nicole

  ‘It’s a matter of waiting for men to retire, or die, I’m afraid,’ he explained, wondering what she would look like with her hair loose. It was such magnificent hair, with a lustre that almost glowed in the candlelight — Obrigar had not yet obtained electricity — despite the utter jet of its colour. Loose, it would be even more splendid, he was sure. And yet, loose, it might obscure the magnificent contours of her face, the firm line of her jaw, the high cheekbones … although nothing could possibly impair the flare of her nostrils, the depths of her huge black eyes, the wet invitation of her lips.

  My God, he thought, what am I thinking!

  ‘To die?’ she asked seriously.

  ‘Well, promotion only comes when there is a vacancy,’ he said. ‘In peacetime, that can take a long while.’ He smiled at her; she did not seem to smile very easily. ‘What we need is a nice bloody war, with lots of casualties.’ She gave a shudder; he was not at all sure it was mock. Nor did she smile now at his attempt at humour. Instead she looked across the table at Jack Lisle, who had been invited to dine with them; he was apparently treated as one of the family. But it was a look Joe did not like at all — it was too suggestive of at least a mental intimacy.

  ‘Is that all men can think about?’ Christina asked. ‘War, and blood, and death? Would it not be better to remain a lieutenant all of your life, rather than to be promoted because of the death of another man?’

  He actually had never considered that point, nor had he supposed it would ever be put to him by the daughter of a would-be revolutionary. It occurred to him that he might have been totally wrong about this family, merely because young Rafael occasionally shot his mouth off. And this girl was younger than her brother.

  If only he could resolve Lisle’s position, in his mind, at least.

  ‘You know,’ he said, ‘you could be right. I stand corrected.’

  Then she did smile, and doubled her beauty. ‘Now you have made me very happy,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow, I will show you the plantation.’

  *

  Joe thought that was a brilliant idea, but unfortunately this was not America, and there was no question of the pair of them being allowed to take a ride alone together. In fact it was Rafael and Toni who accompanied them, Toni also being anxious to be shown the plantation, which allowed the two brothers to act as mutual chaperones. It took them the entire morning, as they walked their horses first of all to the factory, standing silent and empty now as it was not in use, and gazed at the great rollers and cutters, peered into the vats, while Rafael explained about vacuum pans and the mysteries of maceration — adding water to the partly crushed cane stalks to enable them to withstand another, or even a third crushing, and thus extract the very last drop of sugar juice-before showing them the chemist’s laboratory where the various rum and molasses and the sugar content of the granules was tested, and then the storehouses where even now there was some unshipped sugar. ‘The world situation is bad,’ he explained. ‘There is too much competition from beet sugar in Europe. So prices are low, and sometimes it is not even possible to find a market. But we make out.’

  He seemed totally confident about the future of the industry, at any rate, Joe noted, while his obvious expertise on the subject was reassuring. He decided that his future brother-in-law could well grow on him. Although not as fast as his future sister-in-law. Christina said little on the inspection — although Joe did not doubt she knew as much about sugar as Rafael — merely looked immaculately splendid, with a flat, broad-brimmed black hat secured beneath her chin with a strap, black blouse, black divided skirt — both the girls rode side saddle, of course, much to Toni’s alarm, as she had never done so before — and black boots; to set off the sombreness of her dress she had a crimson silk scarf round her throat, and crimson gloves. Joe thought she was the most magnificent sight he had ever seen.

  From the factory they went to the farm, which itself was very nearly as large as the McGanns’, and where there was a vast number of pigs as well as a herd of meat cattle. ‘We feed ourselves, as regards flesh,’ Rafael explained. ‘Wheat we bring in, but then it is a cheap item.’

  He took them to the foundry where they made all of their own ironwork and repaired their tools or machinery as necessary, to the workshop, where the carts used for transporting the cane were made and repaired, and to the planning office, where the tracks and paths and irrigation canals through the fields were mapped out by a surveyor.

  ‘This is quite some industry you have here,’ Joe was moved to admit. ‘And it all belongs to you?’

  ‘To my father,’ Rafael said modestly. ‘Now let me show you what pays for it all.’

  He took them into the fields, passing groups of peons, busily weeding around the ratoons, each gang under the supervision of an overseer, and eventually coming upon Arnaldo Diaz and Jack Lisle, sitting their horses together as they discussed a new irrigation project. Both seemed delighted to see them, raising their hats most courteously. Joe watched Lisle to study his greeting of Christina, but it was simply that of an overseer to his employer’s daughter.

  ‘Well, Toni,’ Arnaldo said. ‘What do you think of your future home?’

  ‘I think it’s just breathtaking,’ Toni said. Oddly enough, Joe realised, she was flushing. He supposed they were all fairly hot — there were even pink spots in Christina’s somewhat sallow cheeks — but Toni was definitely at once excited and nervous. And she was looking at Lisle, and hastily away again as the overseer returned her glance, her colour deepening. Joe stroked his chin, thoughtfully.

  95

  ‘I hope you are pleased with everything you have seen,’ Arnaldo Diaz asked Jerry McGann after dinner. The McGanns had now been on the plantation a week, and Joe’s furlough was coming to an end. It was time to discuss serious matters.

  ‘I think it is a superb place,’ Marguerite told him. ‘It is even bigger than my father’s plantation in Louisiana was. I should think Toni will be very happy here. Won’t you, my dear?’

  Toni sat straight; she had been in something of a brown study. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘I think it’s heavenly.’

  ‘Well, then … ’ Arnaldo looked at Jerry again.

  Who grinned. ‘I think we can make it official.’

  ‘That is splendid. Now, as to details … ’

  ‘Toni will receive an allowance for pin money, of course,’ Jerry said.

  ‘My dear fellow, that is quite unnecessary. She will receive an allowance from the estate as well, as do Carlotta and Christina.’ He patted Toni’s hand. ‘We cannot have you ever in need of a pin, can we? I was thinking more about arrangements.’ He looked from Jerry to Marguerite this time. ‘Would it be a great imposition to request that the ceremony be held here in Cuba?’

  ‘Oh, well … ’ Jerry looked at his wife.

  ‘It really would be an event, here in Santiago Province,’ Carlotta explained.

  ‘Why, if that’s what you want,’ Marguerite said. ‘Toni?’

  ‘I think that sounds heavenly.’

  ‘At my expense, of course,’ Jerry said.

  ‘That is something we can discuss later, in private,’ Arnaldo said. ‘Well, that is settled. I am so grateful. We all are. Now, what about dates. Would next May be suitable? It is a good month, when the weather is already warm, but the hurricane rains have not yet started.’ ‘Sounds fine to me,’ Jerry said, and turned to his son. ‘How will that do for you?’

  ‘I can manage it,’ Joe said, wishing Lisle had not as usual been invited to sit in on this very private discussion as well. ‘I’ll be away from the Houston, by then, and the Maine will still be fitting out. They’ll be able to spare me for a week or two.’

  ‘Splendid,’ Arnaldo said again. ‘Now, I would also like to propose that the ceremony takes place here, if that is agreeable to you. The cathedral in Santiago is perhaps more appropriate, but it poses difficulties for the reception. Here we will be able to put up most of the guests overnight. I know the bishop will raise no objection to a house wedding
, and in addition, it will mean that the peons can all celebrate the wedding as well, which will delight them.’ He looked at Marguerite this time.

  ‘That sounds perfect to me.’

  ‘Then there is the question of the best man … ’ he looked at his son.

  Rafael cleared his throat. He was holding Toni’s hand, and looking terribly proud. ‘I would like Joe to be my best man, if he will agree,’ he said.

  Arnaldo raised his eyebrows, but Toni gave a shout of delight. ‘Oh, that will be simply splendid. How sweet of you, Rafael.’

  ‘Joe?’ Jerry murmured.

  ‘I should be delighted to accept,’ Joe said.

  ‘Well, that was simple,’ Carlotta Diaz said. ‘And Christina will be maid of honour … we shall keep it in the family.’ She smiled at them both. ‘You will make a splendid pair, standing together.’

  ‘Not so splendid as Toni and Rafael,’ Christina said quickly. But she did not blush. Joe wondered what it would take to make her do so.

  ‘Well, then,’ Arnaldo said. ‘I think this calls for some champagne. Salvador … ’ he checked at the sound of hooves, gazed at his wife.

  ‘Always at night,’ Carlotta said. ‘He is a thief of the night.’

  ‘Trouble?’ Jerry asked.

  ‘No, no. An irritation. I had expected him before this; he keeps his fingers in everything. Or tries to.’ Arnaldo got up and went to the door himself, before Salvador could get there. ‘Open some bottles of champagne from the cold cellar, Salvador,’ he said, and opened the door. ‘At least he is alone, tonight,’ he remarked. ‘Welcome, Colonel. Are you not afraid to ride these lonely country lanes by yourself, especially at night?’

  ‘Afraid?’ Lumbrera echoed. ‘Ha, ha. Not I, Don Arnaldo. Besides, my men are halted only half a mile back. I did not think it appropriate to bring them up here. This is a social call.’

  ‘Indeed?’

  Lumbrera’s spurs jingled as he mounted the steps. ‘I have come to congratulate you.’

  ‘On what?’ Arnaldo asked.

  ‘Why, the news is all over Santiago, that your son is to marry an American lady.’

  Salvador popped the first champagne cork, and Arnaldo stepped through the doorway. ‘Then I think you had better join us, Colonel, and meet the young lady yourself. As you say, we are celebrating the engagement.’

  Lumbrera followed him into the house, took in the assembly, saluted, and removed his shako. ‘Will you not introduce me, Don Arnaldo?’

  Don Arnaldo did so, while Salvador hurried forward with the tray of glasses. Joe studied his hosts as Lumbrera shook hands with his mother and father, and then kissed Toni’s hand most effusively. Don Arnaldo was confidently calm, but Rafael was almost bursting with fury as he saw the police chief touch his fiancée — with some reason, Joe thought, as Lumbrera’s sleepy eyes seemed to devour the girl, clearly mentally stripping off the gown to imagine what lay beneath.

  He looked at the Diaz women. Carlotta was as if turned to stone, but Christina for the first time since he had met her looked agitated — and at last there were pink spots in her cheeks; no doubt, he thought, suddenly angry himself, she has been the subject of such insulting stares, in the past. He glanced at Lisle, at whom, predictably, Christina had given one of her quick glances. But the Englishman seemed the least perturbed of anyone present.

  ‘Such a happy occasion,’ Lumbrera said, at last releasing Toni to take a glass of champagne and raise it. ‘I drink to you all. It is so much better to be celebrating a wedding than to be smuggling guns, eh?’

  ‘Do you know, I have never thought of that,’ Arnaldo said. ‘But I am sure you are right.’

  ‘Do you have a lot of trouble with gun running, Colonel?’ Jerry McGann asked.

  Lumbrera considered, and then shrugged. ‘Some trouble, from time to time, Captain McGann. But then, trouble is a policeman’s business, is it not? We shall get to the bottom of it, I can promise you. Now I must take my leave. Senorita … ’ again he took Toni’s hand, and Rafael stamped his foot in anger. ‘To know that you are coming to live in Cuba is to feel confident that the future of our country will be bathed in sunshine. I will light a candle when I return to Santiago, that nothing ever happens to interfere with your happiness. But God helps those who help themselves, eh? You must take care that nothing ever interferes with that happiness.’ He released her, replaced his shako, stepped back, and saluted. Then looked at Lisle. ‘A wedding is always more enjoyable than a funeral,’ he remarked, apparently at large. ‘Adios, my friends. Hasta la vista.’

  His boots clumped on the verandah. ‘Ugh,’ Toni said. ‘What a slimy little man. I’m not sure I understood everything he said. Something about a candle?’

  ‘It was his little joke,’ Rafael told her. ‘He is not worth thinking about.’

  ‘And he is not even a Spaniard,’ Don Arnaldo commented. ‘He is a Cuban like ourselves, given authority by our Spanish masters. They are the worst.’

  Christina Diaz had gone out on to the verandah to watch the colonel ride down the drive. Joe seized his opportunity to follow her. ‘Had I a gun, I sometimes think I would shoot him down,’ she remarked.

  ‘Is he that bad?’

  She half turned her head, as if surprised that it should be be at her shoulder. ‘He gives the impression of being such a sweet little man,’ she said. ‘I thought that, until very recently. Then my mother told me the truth. He is horrible. And a murderer several times over. But his crimes have always been condoned by the government, because he is useful to them, doing their dirty work.’ She shuddered. ‘The thought that he might one day have the power to arrest my father or brother … ’

  ‘Or Senor Lisle?’ He could have bitten his tongue, but the words just slipped out.

  ‘Jack too,’ she said, not apparently disturbed by the question. ‘He is our dearest friend. And he is the most vulnerable of us all.’

  ‘Because of his father?’

  Now she did turn her head. ‘You know about that?’

  ‘Of course.’

  She sighed. ‘He is an unhappy man. He bums with anxiety to find his father’s murderer.’

  ‘Isn’t Lumbrera a likely prospect?’

  ‘It is difficult to be sure. Twenty years ago Lumbrera would have been hardly older than I am now.’ She shivered. ‘Why must men be such beasts?’

  ‘I don’t think I’m the one to answer that,’ Joe decided. ‘But remember this, senorita: Colonel Lumbrera, not even Colonel Lumbrera, can ever arrest anyone unless they have committed some crime.’

  Her eyes loomed up at him in the semi-darkness.

  ‘But I would like you to know,’ Joe went on, while his heart pounded as it had not done since his passing out parade, ‘that if your family, but more especially yourself, ever needs assistance in any way, then you have but to call on me. If I am not being presumptuous in suggesting this.’

  She continued to look at him for several seconds. Then she said, ‘No, Joseph McGann. You are not being presumptuous. You are being most reassuring. I should be flattered, and so relieved, to be able to call on you, were I ever in need.’

  *

  The men had glasses of brandy together in the smoking room after the colonel had left. ‘That scoundrel’s appearance has put quite a gloom on the evening,’ Arnaldo said. ‘I apologise, Jerry, and to you, Joe. It is one of the crosses we have to bear, that when people like Lumbrera appear we cannot merely show them the door. That would be to get us into bad odour with the government, and that would mean all manner of petty restrictions on our daily lives. You see … ’ he smiled, ‘all is not total happiness, even on Obrigar, although we do the best we can.’

  ‘I’m sure you do,’ Jerry said. ‘What exactly was he referring to, when he talked about gun running?’

  ‘Oh, there are all manner of rumours,’ Arnaldo said. ‘There have been for years. And there can be no doubt that there are still guerrillas maintaining themselves in the mountains, certainly here in Santiago Province, leftovers, you m
ight say, from the revolution, who have never been brought to book, and who dream of a return engagement.’

  ‘Do you ever see any of them?’ Joe asked.

  Arnaldo shrugged. ‘We see people from the hill country, certainly. It is impossible to tell if they are guerrillas or not, when they are not carrying guns. Anyway, perhaps I choose not to know. My father suffered for his politics. I have no desire to become involved. They do not trouble me, and so I shall not trouble them. I have sufficient problems trying to grow sugar cane.’

  ‘And of course you would never dream of importing guns for their use,’ Jerry said.

  Arnaldo raised his eyebrows. ‘Good heavens, Jerry. What a suggestion.’

  Jerry opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Joe knew it had been on the tip of his father’s tongue to ask for an assurance of that, but he had decided against it because it would certainly have insulted their host. He was rather glad Pa had taken that decision. If Arnaldo Diaz was up to any tricks involving the bandits in the mountains, he didn’t want to know. Not right now. He was suddenly more nearly happy than at any previous moment in his life.

  But for the thought of Jack Lisle. On two counts.

  *

  Lisle in fact took his leave a few minutes later, shaking hands with both the McGann men as well as Arnaldo and Rafael, and pausing in the drawing room to say good night to the ladies before going on to the verandah. There he checked, as he heard footsteps behind him.

  ‘Mr Lisle,’ Toni said.

  She was framed in the doorway. He turned to face her.

  ‘I know about your father,’ she said.

  ‘It’s a well known story, miss.’

  ‘I wanted you to know how sorry I am, about what happened,’ Toni said. ‘How I do share your feelings, towards the government. And now, towards Lumbrera.’

  He gave a little bow. ‘Thank you very much.’

  She stepped outside, ignoring the looks which had to be directed against her back from within. ‘I have a feeling that you do not like me, sir.’

  ‘Not like you? My dear Miss McGann, I think everyone on this plantation has quite fallen in love with you.’