‘This is your money he’s wasting on such ridiculous profligacy,’ fumed Thomas, when Mayhew had left the room.
Katharine gave a dismissive flick of her head. ‘He struck a deal with me right from the beginning on the percentage of the profits he was entitled to as Norwood Enterprises’ Manaus representative. He’s worked hard, though it pains me to say it. He’s entitled to what he has and I don’t have any say over how he spends what he has rightfully earned – even if I do heartily disapprove.’
None of it mattered any more. Or it wouldn’t, shortly, anyway. She headed out to the bank.
‘Shall I come with you?’ asked Thomas.
‘No,’ she replied, ‘I have to do this alone.’
In the town centre, the Diario do Amazonas newspaper proclaimed the dizzying new heights of the rubber price in dollars, pounds sterling and milreis.
On another day, she would have found it impossible to walk past the University Bookshop without going in and spending a small fortune on books and periodicals that, once back at Norwood, she would read over and over again until the damp and insects got to them and they fell apart. But today, she passed on by, barely registering the notice in the window informing customers that the latest adventures of Buffalo Bill and Nick Carter were now in stock.
The bank was busy as always, full of people withdrawing and depositing funds, taking out loans, repaying debts – though less, as always, of the latter than the former. She had to go to several different counters on several different floors. At each one, her request was met with raised eyebrows but no comment. At her next port of call, it took rather longer to do what she had to do.
When Katharine got back to the house it was well past midday, but even so Antonio did not surface until several hours later. He and Mayhew had been out late the night before, carousing, Mayhew showing off his latest mistress to Antonio. The Polish woman, once the most highly prized and sought after concubine for the rubber elite, had been surplanted by an East Asian beauty: tiny, petite and perfect. Mayhew always had to have whatever was the height of fashion.
‘Antonio,’ cried Katharine, involuntarily stepping forward to take her son in her arms.
‘Anthony,’ he replied, neatly side-stepping her embrace.
After being introduced, Thomas excused himself, saying he would take the girls for a walk. Mayhew, showing uncharacteristic tact, also took his leave, citing numerous important matters to attend to.
Alone, Katharine and Antonio sat across the salon from each other, both avoiding the other’s eyes.
‘I’ve missed you,’ said Katharine simply. ‘I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’m sorry you couldn’t face the voyage and I wasn’t able to come to visit you. I want you to know that you were always in my thoughts, that I always loved you. That I always will.’
Antonio shrugged off-handedly in the way that had always infuriated Katharine. Now it just made her profoundly sad.
She held out her hands towards her son. ‘How could you think otherwise? I beg you to believe me. I loved you from the bottom of my heart; I cherished you, I nurtured you. I still do, now and always. But I couldn’t educate you properly at Norwood, I couldn’t keep you safe. I had no choice but to send you away.’
‘That’s the point, though, isn’t it?’ Antonio challenged. ‘When Mayhew told me I had to go, I was so confused about why you were banishing me. But Mayhew explained – he told me on the boat – that it wasn’t just about schooling, or safety. You wanted to leave the coast clear for you and Thomas to—to—’ He faltered, bit his lip, then began again. ‘I couldn’t make any sense of it except to believe that you loved Thomas more than me. That Mayhew was right. That I wasn’t the most important thing in the world to you any more. And that was hard, Mother, do you understand?’ His eyes, that were so like his father Anselmo’s eyes, were full of tears, darkened with anguised memories. ‘It was so hard.’
Katharine fought back her own tears. Antonio had put two and two together and, at such a young age and with the help of Mayhew’s poison, made fifty.
‘I’m sorry, Ant… Anthony,’ she whispered, misery impeding her ability to speak. ‘Mayhew shouldn’t have told you that. It’s totally wrong. He was the one who finally persuaded me to take the decision to send you to school, who insisted that it was essential to do so. It wasn’t because of Thomas. That wasn’t the reason.’
Antonio had the sulky, sullen look on his face that Katharine knew so well. She was suddenly transported to when he was a little boy, fretting about some perceived injustice or slight. He had always believed the world to be against him and on their long journey together Mayhew had clearly stoked that fire until it was a raging furnace. The small boy had been unable to make sense of his feelings, the older boy unable to share them. And so, the embers of hurt, confusion, bewilderment and misunderstanding had smouldered on.
‘The thing is, Mother,’ Antonio was saying, ‘I like Thomas. I really do. But that makes it even worse. I didn’t know until Mayhew told me exactly how wrong it is for a white woman to go with a Black man. Of course, I didn’t know! I lived here, in the Amazon, where mixing of races is normal. But Mayhew told me it was disgusting and at school – well, can you even imagine how much I was bullied when the other boys discovered my mother had married a – a slave? It’s just not the done thing at all,’ he added, his voice imitating the accent of the upper classes and loaded with sarcasm, wobbling with incipient tears, ‘not at all.’
Now the tears began to slide down Katharine’s cheeks. This was too much. She had had no idea that Antonio was persecuted because of her choice to live with and to marry a Black man. It simply hadn’t occurred to her that this would be the inevitable outcome of her union with Thomas. How had she been so stupid, so blind and ignorant? She would never forgive herself. The least she should have done was explain it all to Antonio before he left, and warn him, perhaps, of the prejudice he might expect to face. Instead she had covered it up, thinking that was for the best.
‘We can make it up,’ she said, quietly. She had to believe this was possible. What else was left to her? To them? ‘We can put it right. Please let me try.’
Antonio stood up and began pacing the room, shaking his head vehemently as he strode.
‘Maybe. I don’t know. Probably not.’ He paused and went to a leather case that lay on a side table. ‘I want to. I’d like to. But it might be too late.’
Katharine shook her head. How could it be too late? It would never be too late.
‘The th-thing is,’ Antonio stuttered. ‘I have something to show you. I haven’t been idle.’
Katharine wiped her eyes with her handkerchief and sat up straighter.
‘You know I’ve been in Ceylon since school finished?’
‘I heard as much.’
‘Well, I took over a rubber plantation there. Idiot bastard who set it up drank himself stupid, had to sell at a loss. Mac put me onto the opportunity, lent me the money – it was a bargain in any case. Henry Wickham took rubber seeds from the Amazon years ago and they came good. The trees are ready to tap now – in fact, we’re already doing so. We’ve had our first harvest. Best quality rubber at a fraction of the production and shipping costs of that from the Amazon. The trees in nice neat rows, accessible, a dedicated and disciplined colonial workforce desperate for employment, none of these peasants and savages you to have to deal with here. It’s all so easy.’
He looked at Katharine as if expecting a reaction – horror, surprise, anger… He got nothing.
‘Mac’s heavily invested there himself too, did you know? He saw the future a while ago and started to pull his money out of Brazil and put it into plantations. He’s been planning for the future for ages – you know how astute he is.’ Antonio’s tone was neutral, even.
Katharine stared impassively at her son. She’d learnt something of the Indian ability to give nothing away through their faces in all these years.
‘In Ceylon, we’re undercutting you and your competitors by 50 per cen
t. Dry, fine Pará has had its day. Once the news of how plantation rubber is trading in the markets in London and New York reaches this backwater dump, the banks will pretty soon stop accepting rubber land as collateral for loans. And that will be the beginning of the end. The boom is going to turn to bust in the blink of an eye.’
Abruptly, Antonio stopped his pacing and came to stand by his mother, his tall form looming above her like the Brazil nut trees tower over others in the rainforest. Then he noisily pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. He looked suddenly like a little boy again, longing for forgiveness.
‘I didn’t really mean to do it, Mother.’ His voice was high-pitched, distraught. Agonised. ‘Or at least I did, and I didn’t. Sometimes I wanted to hurt you as you’d hurt me. Other times, I was desperate to throw it all in and come back to Norwood. But I’d borrowed the money and Mac’s terms were strict.’
Katharine laughed inwardly, though it was a hollow laugh. Oh yes, being indebted to Mac was a sorry state to be in, and his terms were never anything but stringent. She, of all people, knew that.
‘I didn’t think it through!’ Antonio’s face was screwed up with distress. ‘But the reality is that you will be ruined.’ His face suddenly became blank, looking as Katharine imagined it might have when the school bullies were assailing him. It was a look of self-preservation, utterly closed-up.
She gazed sadly at her only son. ‘It doesn’t matter, Antonio. I’m your mother and I will love you from the bottom of my heart whatever you do. I wish you every success with your rubber plantation.’
She paused, thinking about what she’d read in Mabel’s journal, of the conversation Mabel had overheard between her employer and a friend about rubber from the Far East wiping out the Amazon. Apparently, she’d written to Katharine to warn her but the letter, as was so often the case, had never arrived. Mabel had been trying to tell Katharine something with her last few breaths – Katharine was sure it was this – but death had come before the words were out. It was only Katharine’s reading of her journal that had brought the truth to light.
She pushed the vision of Mabel’s last moments firmly from her mind and turned to her son, hands folded matter-of-factly on the table.
‘I would advise you to watch out for disease; if too many trees of the same type grow too close together, they are liable to infection.’ Katharine’s tone was brisk now, business-like. ‘Hopefully yours will stay strong and healthy.’
Antonio nodded miserably. He seemed to have shrunk in size, overtaken by grief and remorse and love and huge amounts of emotion he had no idea how to express.
‘Yes, yes. But that’s a small concern. The real issue is that the Amazon is over. Your estradas are worthless. Mac has done the clever thing in getting out – but you – you’ve lost everything.’
‘Oh, Antonio. Mac may have taken some astute decisions by investing elsewhere. But unfortunately he has made a lot of mistakes, too. Today he has been arrested and he is now languishing behind bars in Manaus prison, charged with embezzlement, tax evasion and fraud.’
As she spoke, Antonio’s expression froze into one of utter disbelief and then, as he realised it must be the truth, morphed into a terrible acceptance.
‘How… how did they find out? How did he get caught?’
‘Mabel,’ answered Katharine, simply. ‘I found papers in her trunk that she’d gathered up after he’d carelessly left them lying around in…’ she hesitated, unable to say the words in her bedroom because of the awful reality they brought to the surface, ‘in London. I gave them, together with her diary in which she’d documented everything he told her, to the police and they acted immediately. No government or law enforcement agency anywhere in the world likes to be defrauded to the extent Mac has done. He will be incarcerated for many years to pay for his crimes.’
Now it was Katharine’s turn to pace restlessly around the room. She could hardly bear to think of her little sister and what she had suffered – but through it all Mabel had managed to keep enough of her wits about her to save the papers and write down all of Mac’s confessions.
Speechless, Antonio sat in silent bemusement. It was only when a clock on the wall began to chime that he jolted back to life.
‘I don’t understand. I don’t understand at all.’
‘Mac fathered Mabel’s child,’ explained Katharine, plainly and matter-of-factly. It seemed that Mayhew had not already spilled the beans. ‘Under pressure and coercion and by making her drunk, not just once but time and time again. That is the calibre of the man we all trusted. He also committed other despicable, reprehensible crimes against his servants, several of them young girls. The man is a monster. I’m sorry. I know it will be hard for you to hear. But it’s the truth, and not only must the truth come out but we all understand that, on occasion, the truth hurts. I reported all of this in addition to the financial matters, though I doubt that anything will come of it. The evidence is all gone, melted into the forest or buried beneath it. But at least Mac is under lock and key now, and cannot hurt anyone else.’
Antonio appeared unable to process what his mother was telling him. ‘So – so he was busy destroying Mabel – and others, you say – and making himself rich by any means possible. But now – even if he’s got his own comeuppance, you are left poor, your rubber trees worthless.’
Katharine settled back down at the table, calmer again now. This was no time for being over-emotional. She needed to keep a cool head.
‘I can see how you might think this to be the case,’ she said, slowly. ‘But you are wrong.’
Katharine reached for her purse and took out a piece of paper which she slid over the table towards Anthony, keeping her fingers lightly resting on the edge. She allowed him time to read it and then withdrew it, folding it up and putting it back in her purse.
Antonio stared at her: eyes wide in amazement.
‘As you see,’ she said, slowly and calmly, ‘I have sold up. Everything is gone. I got the best price possible. Everyone else is buying, not selling, the rubber price is so high. I would be rich beyond my wildest dreams – I probably still am. But as well as seeing that Jonathan, Santiago and all the compound Indians and rubber tappers are well provided for until the end of their lives, I have put nearly all the remaining money into a trust. Jonathan and Santiago will administer it, and they will use it to build schools, homes and healthcare facilities for all the Indians on the Rio Poderoso, in addition to the ones I have already established at Norwood. I hope that the money I have made will do some good in the world, to make up for the bad that Mac and his ilk have sowed and propagated here.’
She stood up and walked to the door, her head held high, though a voice of anguish and agony screamed in her head.
‘It is unbearable for a mother to know she has failed her child so badly,’ she said, upon reaching the threshold. ‘But it’s all right, Antonio. Anthony. You have nothing to feel guilty about and I will always be here for you when you need me or want me. Whenever that may be. We’ll be in London for the foreseeable future, in case you are interested.’
She had tried so hard not to collapse, not to cave in beneath the weight of the terrible emotions she was feeling. At this moment, though, it all became too much. She bowed her head, felt her knees go weak, and leant against the doorjamb as stars darted behind her tightly closed eyes. She remained like this until a sudden screech of chair legs against the hard wooden floor caused her to look up. Antonio was approaching, cautiously, as if towards an injured animal, his demeanour broken and bereft.
‘Mother, stop,’ he cried, a suppressed sob clutching at his throat. ‘Please stop.’
He halted a foot or so from her, as if some invisible force field prevented him from coming closer. ‘We can’t part like this. I’m sorry too, sorry for everything. I listened to Mayhew; I believed every word he said when I know I shouldn’t have. I just didn’t understand. But,’ he paused, his eyes flitting from Katharine to the ceiling to the windows to the floor, ‘I want to love
you. I do love you. Remember when I saved you from the snake? And you rescued Mac and I from drowning. We have both saved each other. We will again. I will. I want to come with you to England.’
Katharine listened in stunned disbelief. Which suddenly transmuted to delight. ‘Th-thank you. Thank you, Antonio.’
Each took a step forward and then they were hugging, the first close contact they had had with each other for so many years. Katharine felt that finally all was well, that she no longer had to live with regret and self-reproach. That perhaps her relationship with Antonio could be salvaged – which, if it were the case, was the only thing that really mattered.
When the embrace ceased, Katharine suggested they take a walk in the garden. They stopped by the dancing fountain, held their hands under its cooling water.
‘You’ve saved me again, Antonio,’ Katharine said. ‘Just by coming here. Your imminent arrival prompted me to read Mabel’s diary which I’d been ignoring all this time. As I said before, I wish you nothing but well with your venture in Ceylon. I, on the other hand, am done with rubber, with this magical substance that has done so much good, and so much harm. Everything has changed. I came to the Amazon a naïve girl, following my husband, no idea what I was doing, barely a sensible idea in my head. I leave an independent woman. I have learnt so much. Most of all, that it is an industry that is rotten through and through, run by men riddled with maggots like the bolachas themselves. I have repaid my debts, given away my money and now I want no further part in it.’
The fountain gurgled and splashed and the equatorial sun blazed in the shimmering sky. Together, mother and son turned and walked back to the house. They gathered up the two girls, Thomas, their goods and chattels and took them to the floating quay, where they boarded the steamer bound for Liverpool. Standing on deck, the whole family was silent as they set sail. Katharine gripped tight to the rails as she squeezed back the moisture in her eyes. She knew that none of them would ever see the Amazon again. This was the final farewell to the place where she had loved and lost, hoped and despaired, and shed so many tears of triumph and disaster. The fact that all five of them were alive was all Katharine cared about now.
Along the Endless River Page 35