The Betrayal

by J G Alva

  “There,” Yilmaz said, pointing to a building to their left, a little taller than the buildings surrounding it, but the same rough beige stone as the rest of the town. “My hotel. The Victoria Huntsmen. We shall walk, yes? The boys will follow us with the many suitcases.”

  While the boys unloaded the boat, they walked down the gantry off the boat, along the dock, and in to the town.

  Yilmaz, Agathe and Kate walked slightly ahead, leading the way, holding hands and chatting happily to each other in Greek, and Nick and Rebekah followed behind, trying to take in the people and the buildings and not quite succeeding. It was more visual stimulation than they had experienced in a long time, and their brains were sluggish and unprepared for the assault.

  Nick felt something, and looked down and saw that Rebekah had taken his hand. She smiled at him shyly and swung his hand back and forth; he couldn’t help smiling in return. Toad spoke up briefly, whispering to him that they probably looked more like father and daughter than lovers, but Nick smothered the voice. There was nobody here that knew them, why should they care? The air was filled with the smell of suntan lotion and cooking, and the happy sounds of voices, and they both followed Yilmaz and his family, a little stunned, but pleasantly so.

  In no time at all they reached the hotel, and as Yilmaz entered dark figures greeted him with happy exclamations. Nick and Rebekah were introduced to many smiling faces, and the pressure of eyes on him made Nick let go of Rebekah’s hand.

  They all followed an attractive black woman up a flight of stairs to their rooms. Nick was surprised when Rebekah and himself were shown to the room they would be sharing, but when the door was opened was not surprised to find it had twin beds.

  Yilmaz drifted over as Rebekah wandered to the balcony, spreading the doors wide. The room filled with sunlight. Everywhere she goes, there’s sunlight, he thought, and felt a wave of sadness wash over him. He had been in a melancholic funk all morning and could not seem to shake himself out of it. It felt like the end of everything. He stared at Rebekah’s delicate back. Was there a way he could keep her? A way they could have a life together?

  Yilmaz slapped his shoulder, bringing him out of his ruminations.

  “My good friend, you like the room, yes? If you are liking a drink there is a bar downstairs, on the front, and many shops nearby. Along the road is galleries, and further the museum.” Yilmaz pushed something in to his hand and slapped him on the back and turned to leave the room. Nick looked down and saw a bundle of currency folded loosely in his palm…an embarrassingly big bundle of currency. He remembered that it was Rupees in the Seychelles. He looked up, and Yilmaz was smiling at him from the doorway. “Tonight, at eight, we will go to my favourite restaurant. You will come. We will have good time.”

  And he was gone, down the hall and in to his own room, not two doors down.

  “Look at this, Nick,” Rebekah said, her voice consumed with wonder.

  Nick looked at the currency, humble and grateful beyond all measure, stuffed it in to a trouser pocket, trousers that Yilmaz had provided him with, shut the door and came to where Rebekah was standing.

  “Woh,” he said.

  They could see all of the curve of the harbour side, and most of the town, moving away from them in a long crescent. A dazzling array of boats bobbed happily in the water, their masts at this distance like a line of TV aerials. Birds cried, strange bird sounds, and he looked up to see them passing overhead. Sunlight sparkled on water so clear, it looked almost green.

  Almost without thinking about it, he came up behind her and put his arms around her. She leaned in to him, gripped his hands.

  “Talk about falling on your feet,” she said, in a hushed voice.

  “Yeah,” he said. He kissed her neck. “Hey. Fancy seeing the town?”

  She turned in his arms to look at him.

  “Really?”

  “Sure,” he said, kissing her nose. “Yilmaz has given us some spending money.”

  “He’s too good to us.”

  “I don’t know. I think we’re pretty amazing, don’t you?”

  She smiled, and turned back to the view.

  “I like him. And Agathe and Kate. They’re almost like...family.”

  “Mm.”

  “I suppose,” she said, and stopped.

  “What?”

  “Well.” She shrugged. “After the shitty people we’ve got in our lives, it’s a real shock to find someone who is so...good.”

  He thought about that, listening to the birds and the sound of the sea lapping at the docks, and feeling the delicious weight of Rebekah in his arms, and not for the first time in the last few days couldn’t believe that it had turned out this way.

  ◆◆◆

  As they perused the shops of Victoria Town, Rebekah came alive in a way Nick had not seen before, cooing over the clothes on display, trying on this and that, posing in one or another for his inspection, and subsequent approval, and it seemed such a natural state for her that he came to realise how limited their life on the island had been. He had always known it, but he saw it anew now, and in such comfortable surroundings, with the money burning a hole in his pocket, the realisation came back with the force of a roundhouse blow, so much so that he was swept up in a tide of anger over Mike Ross and what he had done, it was one thing to attack him, sure, but Rebekah had been nothing to him, and he had stolen precious years from her, formative years, years that she could never get back.

  So in some sort of compensation for that loss, Nick spoilt her on that shopping trip around Victoria Town, buying whatever tickled her fancy, so that on their return to the hotel they were both laden down with bags and boxes full of clothes for Rebekah. Whereas Nick only had one bag for the things he might need.

  “Oh,” Rebekah said, stopping Nick with a hand on his chest.

  Across the road from the hotel was the post office, an old and scabrous looking three storey building, which was home to both a shop and a bar, at its far end.

  Nick was confused, and as he looked around to try and find what had caught Rebekah’s attention, Rebekah drifted toward the post office, and then to the phone in a small niche by the door.

  She turned back to Nick.

  “Have you got any change?”

  Nick dug in his pockets as he asked, smiling, “who are you going to call? National Geographic?”

  As he passed her some change, she made a face and said, “my aunt, silly.”

  “Oh.”

  Nick waited some distance away as she dialled, feeling vaguely self-conscious and not knowing why, until he thought suddenly because she’s Rebekah’s only living relative, you idiot, and you haven’t exactly guarded her virtue. In fact, quite the opposite.

  In a few moments, after speaking briefly on the phone, Rebekah hung up and came back to where Nick was standing.

  “That was quick,” Nick said. “How is she?”

  Rebekah’s brow was creased with a frown.

  “Not there.”

  “No?”

  “No. She’s moved back to England.”

  “England. Whereabouts?”

  “They gave me the address.”

  Rebekah crossed the street to the hotel and Nick followed behind her, and when she realised he was not beside her she stopped, wiped the frown from her face, smiled, groped for his hand and said, “I’d like you to meet her. At some point.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Nick said uncomfortably.

  “Rubbish. She’ll love you.”

  “Hm.” He was not convinced.

  “I’m tired. Shall we go back to our room now?”

  ◆◆◆

  In the afternoon they made love, but it was tinged with a flavour of guilt, and sadness, and Nick thought that Rebekah must sense that, although she said nothing.

  Later in the evening they showered and were dressing when a knock came at their door.

  Nick answered. Yilmaz was wearing an impressive tan suit and terracotta tie and looked every bit the
millionaire entrepreneur.

  “Ten minutes,” Rebekah called from the en suite bathroom, and Yilmaz smiled and said, “we will meet you down in the bar, yes?”

  As they came in to the bar heads turned and it was not to admire Nick. Rebekah in her black dress was a vision, and Nick felt proud showing her off.

  “Rebekah!” Agathe exclaimed, in delightful surprise.

  They were sitting at a table on the veranda. Agathe looked lovely in white, and Kate older than her years in a blue dress with white trim.

  Rebekah was wearing a black, off the shoulder dress, that presented all of her curves with elegance. Nick could even see the slight bulge of her stomach, it sat so snugly against her skin, and he thought well, we have been eating enough for ten men in the last two days.

  Yilmaz rose as they approached and bent to take Rebekah’s hand and kissed it.

  “You are a vision,” he said simply.

  Rebekah giggled and hugged closer to Nick, as if uncomfortable with the praise. This is your time, Nick thought, looking at her. You deserve it. Lap it up.

  “But not as beautiful as my Agathe,” Yilmaz said, with a quick eye on Agathe. Agathe stood with her hands on her hips, in mock display of anger.

  “I should think not,” Rebekah said, and there was laughter.

  ◆◆◆

  “Nick thought it was dead. He even put it on the fire. And we were talking while it cooked, and when we looked around, expecting it to be done, it was halfway down the beach, running for the water.”

  There was laughter, but Nick could see them trying to imagine life on the island, the hardships, and it stole something of the lightness of the evening conversation.

  “I didn’t have the heart to go after him,” Nick said. “He’d suffered enough. I thought he deserved a chance to survive. Old Crusty.”

  “We called him Crusty because he had all this coral stuff growing over his back,” Rebekah explained. “He was probably an ancient wise man amongst crabs. A crab Yoda.”

  “We never did see him again,” Nick admitted, smiling at Rebekah. “He’s probably still out there somewhere. Doing his thing.”

  Rebekah smiled as well.

  “Good old Crusty.”

  The restaurant was called Le Phare, which Yilmaz informed him knowledgably meant The Lighthouse, and sat halfway up the first mountain closest to Victoria’s southern edge. Nick thought that Yilmaz must be a regular visitor to this restaurant, as the staff were tripping over themselves to serve him. There was nothing wrong with that, of course, as the food seemed to be there almost as soon as they had ordered it, and after they finished the plates were taken away just as quickly, almost as if they had never been. The conversation of the evening had a wide ranging scope, from Agathe’s stories as manageress of the Preveza Royal Hotel (hilarious), to Yilmaz’s brief venture in to internet cafés (perplexing), to Nick’s days as a student bachelor at Swindon Technical College (embarrassing), to the unlikely events that had brought them all here, now, to this place, at this time, in relatively good health.

  As the glasses were replaced by coffees – at least for the women anyway – Nick sat back for a moment – to distance himself from everyone – and looked about him: at Yilmaz and his family, at the glorious location of the restaurant overlooking the forlorn lights of the town, to Rebekah at his side…and he knew that this was a moment he had to keep for himself, to help him get through whatever might lay ahead. Be it light or, as he suspected, very dark.

  ◆◆◆

  Nick came back from his warm contemplation of the evening to find Yilmaz gesturing to him.

  Nick excused himself from the table and walked to where Yilmaz was at the bar, getting drinks.

  “Beer, my friend?” He asked.

  “That’ll be fine.”

  Two beers came, and wordlessly Yilmaz got up from his stool and went out on to the balcony on the far side of the restaurant, and Nick followed. The balcony was about ten feet by ten feet, and was only prevented from sliding unceremoniously down the mountain by eight foot stilts under the floor.

  There was only one other couple on the balcony, and it was easy enough to guess why: the balcony caught a good wind from the south, probably a blessing in the heat of the summer, but too cool now.

  Yilmaz lit his customary cigar and looked thoughtfully out over the balcony railings, out to the cove beyond Victoria’s limits, a dark shape in the night, lit only by a scattering of lights, except where boats were moored in the dock: here, deck lights lit up the boats, giving illumination to boat parties and small groups of happy, carefree people.

  “We must talk,” Yilmaz said.

  Yes, Nick thought. They had to talk, but he remained silent.

  “What is it you are wanting to do?” Yilmaz asked him heavily.

  “You know.” Nick made a gesture with his hand. “To destroy him.”

  “Yes.” He puffed at his cigar. “How is this to be achieved with this man? What is his position?”

  “Well,” Nick said, and stopped. He shifted in his chair. “I don’t know. I’d need to find out where he’s at.”

  “So. We hire some men. Investigators.”

  “Yes. But I’ve got to assume he’ll probably have control over my whole company. I think that’s a given.”

  Yilmaz grunted.

  “If you return to England, could you not claim it back for yourself? It is your company, no?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Nick said. “Sure, I could turn up and say, look, I’m not dead, give me my company back, but then what am I going to do? Carry on working there, with Mike there as well, knowing what I know about him? And let’s face it, Mike’s not going to just walk away from Mitchell Cole, he’s worked too hard to get it. It wouldn’t surprise me if, before long, he tried to arrange another attack on me.” Nick paused, chewing a thumbnail. “I suppose I could sack him, but without a reason he could sue, and that would cost me a lot of money. Maybe more money than the company could handle. And if Mitchell Cole goes under where will I be then? No. I can’t just reclaim it. There has to be some other way.”

  “Mm.” Yilmaz’s eyes had shrunk to slits as he thought. “Yes. A man like this...he will fight. He is not afraid to do things to win. You may lose against such a man.”

  “Not this time,” Nick said, shaking his head, steel in his voice. “But I don’t think confronting him is the best way. He thinks I’m dead. If he continues to believe that, then I’ve got the element of surprise on my side.”

  Yilmaz rolled his cigar between his fingers, back and forth.

  “You will need a passport to get back to England.”

  “Yes.”

  “In your own name, there will be questions.”

  Nick’s face was grim.

  “Yes.”

  “So I am thinking you will have to be somebody else. I know of a man who can do this. He has many contacts.”

  “You can do that?”

  Yilmaz nodded gravely.

  “Okay,” Nick said. He felt a little winded.

  Yilmaz nodded, the deal struck.

  “Very well. And may I suggest...it might be good to change your appearance in some way. Perhaps hair colour?”

  Nick touched his hair, thought about it.

  “Okay.”

  Yilmaz nodded.

  “And Rebekah?”

  “Rebekah need only apply for a replacement passport. Mike never knew who she was. There might be questions, but...they should be easy enough to field.”

  Yilmaz stared at him.

  “Is she happy to see you go about destroying this man? Michael Ross? In my experience, women do not understand these things.”

  “No,” Nick admitted. “She doesn’t want me to do it. But that works out alright – I don’t want her involved either.”

  “Women cannot understand the...honour of this. Is this not true?”

  “I don’t want your family involved either, Yilmaz. I don’t even really want you involved.”

 
Yilmaz smiled, gripped his shoulder.

  “I am your friend. I am already involved in this.” He set his mouth in a grim, unhappy line. “I have told you that I have done bad things. When I was a young man. Perhaps it is time that I was to do some good. You know? I will help you. You cannot stop me from doing this.”

  Nick sighed with resignation, but he couldn’t help feeling some relief as well. Without Yilmaz’s help, what he planned to do would have been almost impossible to accomplish.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Yilmaz flapped his hand at Nick as if a fly was annoying him.

  “So. We will get you a passport. This may take some days. We will stay in Victoria until then. We cannot go anywhere else, no? Then, when you have the new passport, we will go to England, to begin. What is Rebekah to do?”

  “She’ll be coming with us,” Nick said. “She has family in England.”

  Yilmaz nodded.

  “Very good. We will go to England. Where is your company? In England."

  "Just outside of a city called Bristol."

  Yilmaz nodded.

  "I know this city. I have a hotel there. This is good. We will go there. We will have men to investigate Michael Ross. Then – "

  “And Arthur Keats,” Nick added.

  “Keats?”

  “The accountant.”

  “Ah, yes.”

  Nick paused.

  “And my wife.”

  Yilmaz studied him.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I think so. I think she’s involved. If she isn’t then...great. But I think she had a hand in this. Either way, I’ve got to be cautious. We investigate her too.”

  Yilmaz sighed deeply.

  “Very well. We will have them investigated, and when we have the information, we will decide what to do.”

  Nick coughed in to his hand.

  “This...this may take a lot of money,” he began, but Yilmaz brushed away the imaginary fly again.

  “Do not think of such things. You saved my wife and daughter. I would give up all my fortune for them, and consider it a good bargain. If you ask for my fortune I will give it. It is as simple as that.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t be asking for your fortune,” Nick said.