He stopped short of embracing Richard and instead gave him a warm two-handed handshake. It was as if he was slightly intimidated by Richard's tall frame. “How are you Carlos?” asked Richard, beaming from ear to ear, “it’s great to see you old friend!”
“Yes, yes, fine, fine!” said the short man, his small eyes darting around constantly. “Always good Reechard, always good to see you my friend.” Their hands parted, and Richard motioned towards me. “This is my friend Jason Green, I brought him here this evening as my guest.” Carlos’ face turned to mine. Although he gave the impression of being a jovial clown, an eccentric and entertaining host, my instincts told me that he was not to be trusted. His constantly darting eyes unnerved me somewhat and left me feeling cold. I put on a pleasant, happy face and stood to shake hands with the man. His hand was dry and warm and as I had expected, his grip was firm.
“Welcome, welcome,” the man said in his heavy Portuguese accent, “a friend of Reeechard, is a friend of mine.”
“Nice to meet you, Carlos,” I said with a smile, “it's a great party.” His eyes held mine as we spoke as if he was reading me, as if he was somehow looking into my soul. Then the moment was over and he addressed us both with his usual flamboyant showmanship.“Please, enjoy gentlemen. Good food, good champagne, the stars in the sky, music, beautiful people.”
“Thank you Carlos,” said Richard, “will you be singing for us tonight?” The short man feigned embarrassment, “maybe later Reechard my friend, I have bad throat.” As he spoke he turned to look at the staircase he had just come down. “Epa Reechard, see,” he said motioning towards the staircase, “my beautiful wife, she comes now. I go to greet her!” I turned my head to glance at the staircase, half expecting a short, fat, Portuguese woman in a black dress. What I saw left me gob- smacked. My lower jaw almost hit the floor at the sight of her, and immediately alarm bells began ringing loudly in every corner of my mind. She was tall, dark, and stunningly beautiful. She glided down the stairs with effortless grace and serenity. Hers was a face I would never forget in my entire life. Just like the last time I had seen her, she seemed to have a mesmerising effect on everyone that laid eyes on her. She wore a backless white dress that was cut just above the knees revealing her long, slender, silky smooth legs. A diamond wedding ring sparkled on her left hand as it slid down the bannister as she descended. Her huge, perfectly white smile was in stark contrast to the milky coffee complexion of her face.
Her long dark hair was once again tossed over to one side, revealing the diamond necklace and the tendons of her neck. She was the woman I had seen in the restaurant in Cape Town. The woman who had caused such a stir when she met Richard for dinner in Kalk Bay. The woman who had accompanied him to the club and danced the night away. She was the woman Richard had skilfully seduced and taken back to his guest house. And she was the wife of Carlos da Costa. I sat down pretending to show no interest and immediately reached for the glass of Scotch. I needed it by then. Jesus Christ Green, talk about a can of fucking worms! With his duck feet walk, Carlos da Costa made his way over to base of the stairs to greet his wife. Dutifully she stooped her six foot frame over and kissed him on both cheeks. I glanced at Richard to see his reaction and found him standing there, staring at her with a half smile on his face. For a moment, he was totally dumbfounded. Speechless, and unable to move at all. I cleared my throat in an effort to snap him out of it. He shook his head briefly, blinked once, and sat down. Like I had done, he reached for his Scotch, took a large sip, and looked around at the guests. Then he turned to me and raised his eyebrows.
“So”, he said, “what do you think Jase?” I knew he was referring to the party in general but I couldn't help the thoughts that were racing through my mind.
What do I think Richard? You don't want to know what I think. “Great party Rich, thanks for the invite.” I sat there, tapping my foot to the music, trying to look like I was enjoying myself. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Richard was watching the woman as she walked slowly through the crowds with her mismatched husband. I tried to make some light conversation with him and spoke about the fishing trip earlier that day, but he was clearly distracted by her presence and was a bit vague with his responses. Then I saw his face light up and he waved enthusiastically at the couple who were now behind me. I turned to look and noticed that Carlos da Costa was busy talking to an elderly man in a tuxedo while his wife stood nearby. She was smiling, her head slightly tilted, and was waving back at Richard. She had a sparkle in her eyes and was also clearly pleased to see him. It was a tense moment and I thought briefly that she might recognise me. Thankfully, she didn’t and the moment passed. My head started to fill with questions. How long had this affair been going on? Apart from meeting with Richard, what had the woman been doing in Cape Town? Why was there so much security at the house of Carlos da Costa? Why had I felt so uneasy in the presence of Tintin and Carlos? How could one man accumulate so much obvious wealth by bottling mineral water? How would this man react if he found out that Richard was having a clandestine affair with his wife? So many questions. I decided that there was only one thing for it and the best thing I could do was watch and learn. There was the nagging thought that things were not as I would have wanted them and that the situation was out of my control. But at the same time there wasn’t a lot that I could do about it. Go with the flow, Green, go with the flow. Seemingly relieved by the woman acknowledging his presence, Richard was filled with new zest for life and began to laugh and joke with me again. He swung his chair around to face me as he spoke but I knew the reason he had done so was so he could follow the progress of the couple as they made their way through the crowds behind me. He spoke with a half smile and his eyes constantly flicked towards them. Noticing Richard's glass was almost empty, I finished mine and stood up. “Would you like another Scotch Rich?” I said casually, “I'm off to get one.”
“Yeah, please Jase, same again,” was the reply. I made my way slowly to the bar area, nodding greetings to the various guests I passed on the way. I got to the bar, made my order, and turned as if to watch the band and the guests in the seating area. By then Carlos and his wife were in amongst the tables shaking hands with the guests and generally being pleasant hosts. When my eyes went to Richard it was as I had expected. Although he was making great efforts not to make it obvious, he was watching her like a hawk. Carlos da Costa and his wife stood in the crowd with their backs to me. He was obviously trying to get a point across to one of the guests, and was gesticulating with his short arms as he spoke. She on the other hand stood by his side dutifully, a glass of champagne in her hand. Her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her exposed back. At that moment, she turned in a girlish sort of way and flashed a smile directly at Richard. It was as if she had been trying to force herself not to but the urge had become overwhelming and she had given in. Jesus, why not get a megaphone and tell the world? The barman delivered the drinks, I topped them up with water and made my way back to Richard. After the smile he had got he looked even more flushed and pleased with himself.
“Cheers Jason,” he said as I passed him the glass, “great to have you here with me!” As I sat, I turned my chair slightly to face him. By doing so I could also see the crowd to the left in my peripheral vision. The band played on and I made light conversation with Richard. We spoke about Zanzibar in general and laughed about the foul weather back in England. I played the part of the clueless tourist and Richard was only too pleased to impart his extensive knowledge of the island to me. He pointed out a few important personalities that he had recognised amongst the guests. There were hotel owners, local businessmen, the Zanzibar police chief, even the Mayor of Stone Town.
I realised that whilst doing so he was also able to keep his eye on Carlos’ wife when the tall woman once again leant over to whisper in her husband’s ear. With a nod and a movement of his hand, their greetings and welcomes now finished, he dismissed her. He was still deep in conversation with a guest and s
eemed quite happy for her to move off on her own. I predicted her next move precisely and I was not wrong. She turned and started making her way towards our table. I watched her approach us and for a moment, just like before in Cape Town, I was completely mesmerised. Her expression was a mixture of happiness and embarrassment and I could tell that all she really wanted to do was to run into Richard's arms. Thankfully she exercised some restraint and kept her composure as she walked. Richard did the same and we both stood up as she arrived. “Hello Angelique,” he said warmly as he held out his hand, “it’s great to see you again.”
“Hello Richard,” she said as she shook his hand, “it’s nice to see you too.” Her voice was gentle with a strong French accent. “This is my friend Jason,” he said politely, “Jason, this is Angelique, Carlos’ wife.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said as I took her hand. It was slender, warm, and dry to touch. Her presence was nothing short of electrifying and I had to strongly remind myself that I was there in a professional capacity. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too Jason,” she replied. She smiled and tilted her head slightly as she spoke to me and I was again aware of the genuine warmth and happiness in her eyes. At that moment I understood completely why Richard had fallen in love with her. Like her name suggested, she was an angel. She was astonishingly beautiful. We stood there, making polite small talk for a few minutes, then I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pocket. I excused myself from the conversation and walked over to the staircase to take the call. It was an agent from one of the insurance companies I worked for and as we spoke I leant on the wooden railings and watched the party from a distance. The warm breeze coming off the sea blew on my back as we talked. It gave me an opportunity to have a good look at the house and the guests as I spoke.
Eventually we finished our conversation and I made my way back to the table. I explained that it had been a call from London and sat down leaving Richard and Angelique standing and talking. I had to give it to them. They were doing a good job of keeping things formal and had I not known that they were lovers, I wouldn't have suspected anything. They kept a polite distance from each other as they spoke in hushed tones. All the while the guests mingled and danced to the band.
As I sat, tapping my fingers to the music and pretending to enjoy myself, I realised that the three of us were all playing a complex game of deception. It was then that Carlos da Costa turned around briefly to look for his wife. Without Richard or Angelique knowing, and with dark, beady eyes, he watched them for a second before turning back to his conversation. It gave me an uneasy feeling in my stomach and I could only hope that Richard's game of deception would not turn out to be a dangerous one. Then Angelique leant over to speak to me. “Please excuse me Jason, I have to attend to the dinner now,” she said in her lilting French accent, “I will come to talk to you both later.”
“Thank you Angelique, see you later,” I said as I stood up. She flashed a smile at both of us and then walked off towards the buffet area. We stood for a moment and watched her go. The elegant evening dress accentuated the slimness of her waist and the way her buttocks moved as she walked. “She’s gorgeous,” I said as I took my seat. “She certainly is,” said Richard dreamily as he sat down, “and she’s a really lovely person too. You know Jase,” he paused, “most women as beautiful as her, they won’t even give you the time of day, and yet her, she’s friendly, she’s approachable...” His sentence trailed off and he sat there, shaking his head slightly, watching her go. It was clear that his feelings were getting in the way of his common sense. From what I had seen in Cape Town, the affair was a fairly new thing.
When they had met at the restaurant there had been an obvious attraction but nothing like the chemistry I was seeing that evening. I decided to dig a little. “So how long have you known them Rich?” I asked casually. “Carlos and Angelique?” he asked, “oh about two years I think. I met Carlos through a friend here in Zanzibar two years ago, and then Angelique about a year ago, just after they got married.”
“Oh right,” I said “business or just friends?” Richard's eyes quickly went to the floor and then back up to mine. It was as if my last question had made him slightly uncomfortable. “Ah, just friends,” he said, nodding unconvincingly. Sensing this I changed the subject and began talking about the band and the music. “I heard you ask Carlos if he would be singing tonight. Is this his band?” His face lit up again. “No, no,” he said with a laugh, “as I’m sure you noticed, Carlos is a bit of a showman. He likes to sing at his parties and he’s actually got quite a good voice. He says he used to sing in a hotel in Las Vegas but I’m not too sure if he did or not. Still, he’s got a good singing voice.”
“Oh ok, “I said, “well I'll look forward to that.” We sat around for the next half hour talking and people watching. All the while Angelique moved around the buffet area, organising the staff. Although I was facing the opposite direction I knew she was there because Richard's eyes constantly followed her as we spoke. Then I heard someone tapping on a microphone behind me. I turned to look and saw the diminutive figure of Carlos da Costa standing on the stage removing a microphone from a stand. “Ladies and gentlemen, friends, and guests, the dinner is now ready. Please help yourself from the buffet and the bar and most of all, enjoy yourselves!” There were a few cheers and claps from the crowd and people began making their way over to the buffet tables. “Shall we?” asked Richard.
“I think I'll wait a few minutes for the rush to finish Rich,” I said sipping my drink.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he replied. The guests busied themselves with what looked like rich pickings from the buffet and slowly made their way back to the tables to eat. When the crowd had died down a bit, Richard and myself headed over to see what was on offer. For a private party it was a mind boggling spread to say the least. For starters, there was a choice of oysters, fishcakes, calamari strips, snails, mussels, prawn tempura, and cheese and crab-stick spring rolls. For the main course there was hake, calamari, dorado, kingklip, sole, salmon, giant prawns, and crayfish. To top it all there was an extensive choice of French and South African wines. “Carlos’ wife certainly knows how to throw a dinner party,” I said turning to Richard.
“Oh yes, she does indeed,” came the reply. We made our choices and headed back to the table to eat. I noticed that Carlos and his wife were sitting on a table to my left with some friends. She ate quietly at his side while he joked and made toasts, clinking wine glasses. By the time we had finished, there was no room for dessert and Richard and I sat back and smoked a cigarette. A waiter came across, removed our plates, and asked if we would like coffee. We refused and opted for another drink from the bar, which Richard went to collect. Alone and feeling full and satisfied, I looked at the scene around me. The candles flickered in the moonlight and the band played softly. The food and the entertainment so far had been superb. I wondered if the uneasy feeling I had got from Carlos and Tintin had just been paranoia. Perhaps Carlos was just a colourful, eccentric character who liked to show off and have a good time. Maybe I had been wrong about him and his excessive security. After all, Richard and I had been through an attempted robbery the previous night. Maybe Robson the barman had been right and Paje was full of thieves. All of the hotels and resorts had security guards, so perhaps there was nothing out of sorts with this man having his big wall and his armed guards.
Then my thoughts went to Richard and Angelique.
There was no escaping what I knew was going on between them. I had seen it with my own eyes and I had followed them, in the middle of the night, to Richard's guest house in Cape Town. They were lovers, pure and simple, and she was married to this man. I hoped that they would play their game of deception sensibly and not rock the boat too much. Richard returned as the band started playing louder and some of the guests got up to dance. Carlos and his wife were still sitting at their table and as if like clockwork, Richard kept looking over at them. I tried to put myself in the position of the person I was pretendi
ng to be; someone who didn't know that there was an illicit affair going on. A‘happy-go-lucky’ tourist who happened to save Richard from a mugging. Surely it’s obvious Richard? I thought, surely you shouldn't keep looking over at her like that? But then again, who could blame you? And with a wife as good looking as she is, I'm sure the man is used to it.
We sat in the warm sea breeze, talking occasionally and listening to the band. Despite all that had happened in the past week I had that familiar mellow feeling I always got after a good meal. A sense of satisfaction and control. Then, from behind Richard, I noticed a tall dark figure coming up the staircase we had used when we arrived. As the person got closer I realised it was Tintin, the head of security. I watched him as he walked along the wooden railing around the seating area and headed behind the stage. He was clutching a radio to his ear and although I couldn't hear him, he was speaking rapidly to whoever was on the other side. He looked agitated, almost angry, and he walked quickly taking giant strides as he went. I watched the huge man with mild curiosity as he went but as soon as he had disappeared I figured that he was probably just doing job and soon forgot about it. The music was getting progressively louder with each song and more and more of the guests were getting up to dance. Then I noticed Richard’s eyes again. Instead of crossing to where Carlos and Angelique were sitting every thirty seconds or so, they were locked onto something else and I turned to see what was going on. Carlos and his wife had got up from their table and were making their way to the now crowded dance floor. When they arrived, the two of them began shuffling to the music. Again I was aware of the striking difference in height between the two of them. She was at least a foot taller than him and the couple looked awkward to say the least. Now that's a pretty comical sight, I thought to myself as I watched them. Then they turned as they danced and through the crowd, I saw Angelique glance at Richard briefly. Although she wore a smile, for a split second, I saw what looked like a certain sadness in her eyes.
The Jason Green series Box Set Page 22