by Eric Ambler
“I’m not blaming you, you silly bastard, I’m apologising! How do you think I felt in Makassar, sitting there listening to the bloody radio and wondering how you were getting on up here? I’d sooner have been here myself. I was afraid I’d killed you, dammit! Where were you when all this happened?”
I told him a bit about it. He listened and swore at intervals, and then asked after Rosalie.
“She’s fine. I’m going to see her in a minute. I’m leaving today.”
“My word! On that five-thirty plane?”
“That’s right.”
“Who fixed that? People are fighting to get on it.”
“Lim Mor Sai.”
“What did I tell you? He can fix anything. Well, I’ll see you out at the airport. I’ve got to go out there to clear some stuff through Customs. I came straight in as soon as I touched down. Seen anything of Mina?”
“No, but she’s trying to find somewhere for you to live while this is being repaired.”
“That means a camp bed in her place. See you later, Steve.”
When he had gone, I packed. It did not take long. Mrs. Choong fetched my things from the dobi laundry. They were still damp. But I stuffed them into my suitcase anyway. Then I gave Mrs. Choong a present and went downstairs again for the last time.
I had told Mahmud to wait for me and he was there at the door. On the way, I stopped at a shop in the Chinese quarter and bought a silver box with an amethyst set in the lid. When I had paid for it, I took out all the money I had left on me, set aside what I would need to pay Mahmud, buy my ticket to Djakarta and bribe the Customs at the airport, and put the rest in the box. Then I went on to see Rosalie.
There were two rooms, one hers, one her sister’s. They were clean and simple, like rooms in a kampong house, with bamboo blinds on the windows and mosquito nets over the beds. There was a small verandah with orchids growing in pieces of tree bark.
When it was time for me to go, I went over to the bed and looked down at her. She was lying there with her eyes closed and her body shiny with sweat. There was a smile on her lips. I thought that she might be asleep.
I put the box down on the small table as quietly as I could, but she heard and opened her eyes. For a moment she looked up at me; then her eyes went to the table and she sat up quickly.
“No.”
“You said that if we had liked one another it would make the parting easier.”
“That was before.”
“For me it needs to be made easier.”
“And for me.”
“Then this is the best way. Open it later when I’ve gone.”
I bent over and kissed her once more.
“We love each other,” she said.
“Yes.”
“But we are also wise.”
“I believe so.”
“Yes.” She smiled. “This way we shall always remember each other with love.”
A few moments later I carried my suitcase down the long, steep staircase and walked out into the blinding sun.
Mahmud had put the hood up, and I sat in the shade of it trying to think of the journey ahead as he pedalled me out to the airport.
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Document creation date: 13.05.2012
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