Michael Pearce - A dead man in Tangier

After they had gone a little way, de Grassac halted.

‘Is there really any need to go to the police station?’ he asked.

‘No,’ said Seymour firmly.

‘She assaulted me,’ said Madame Poiret.

‘Perhaps not undeservedly, Madame,’ said Seymour.

‘She called Chantale a black,’ said the young Arab hotly. ‘If she had called her a Moroccan, that would have been all right. Chantale would be proud to be called a Moroccan. But to call her a black was an attempt to denigrate.’

‘He speaks like a lawyer,’ said Madame Poiret.

‘I am a lawyer,’ said the young Arab. ‘Or will be one soon.’

‘Did you do anything apart from sit next to her?’ de Grassac asked.

‘No. And I sat next to her because that was the only table free.’

‘Is this true, Madame?’

‘They should have directed him to another place.’

‘Why?’ demanded Chantale excitedly. ‘Why?’

‘Calm down, Chantale. You are not behaving in a seemly way. And nor are you, Madame.’

‘I don’t believe in letting people get above themselves.’

‘Who is this you’re talking about?’ demanded the young Arab fiercely.

‘You,’ said Madame Poiret. ‘And her,’ she said, pointing to Chantale.

‘Madame,’ said de Grassac, ‘Mademoiselle de Lissac is the daughter of a very gallant gentleman with whom I served and I will not allow any aspersion to be made against her honour. Tell your husband that, and tell him that it is Captain de Grassac who says so. If he would like to take it up with me, he knows where to find me.’

‘Come, come,’ said Seymour. ‘There is no need for things to get so far. Captain de Grassac is absolutely right. This is all best forgotten.’

‘I am not sure I can let it be forgotten,’ said the young Arab stiffly. ‘I have been insulted!’

Seymour took him to one side.

‘Certainly you have been insulted,’ he said. ‘And deserve an apology. But I am not sure how much one from this lady would be worth. And there is a complication, which you as a lawyer will certainly appreciate: about the only hard breach of the law that has occurred is that Chantale has struck the lady. Now, do you want her to have to answer for that in a court of law? Or wouldn’t you prefer to forget the whole thing?’

The young man hesitated.

‘Given the sort of justice we get here,’ he said reluctantly, ‘it might be best to forget the whole thing. Although when such things happen all the time, it is hard to forget them.’

‘Thank you.’

He looked at de Grassac and nodded. De Grassac turned to the two policemen.

‘Okay!’ he said.

They evidently agreed, for he nodded back.

‘Right,’ said Seymour, ‘off you go!’

The young Arab walked away, with dignity

‘You’re not going to let him go?’ said Madame Poiret.

‘Why not?’ said de Grassac. ‘He appears to have committed no offence.’

‘I shall complain to the Resident-General.’

‘Do. And perhaps I will have a word with him myself. I think, Madame, that it would be best if you went home and sat quietly for a while.’

Madame Poiret paused rebelliously, then shrugged her shoulders and marched off.

The two constables watched her go and then departed, with relief.

‘As for you, Chantale-’ said de Grassac.

‘I am sorry,’ said Chantale humbly. ‘I should have kept my mouth shut. But when I heard what she was saying to Awad, and saw that the police were going to take him away — it was so unjust!’

‘Yes, well, these things happen,’ said de Grassac. ‘It might be wiser if you didn’t get involved so readily.’

‘I’m just an unbalanced, emotional Moroccan,’ said Chantale, not altogether acquiescently.

‘You, Chantale,’ said de Grassac, ‘are sometimes just a pain in the ass.’

Seymour recalled that he had left his tea abandoned and unpaid for and returned to the cafe. He invited de Grassac to join him. He also invited Chantale but she declined.

‘I have to get back to relieve my mother,’ she said. ‘Besides, I’ve caused enough trouble for one day.’

De Grassac watched her go.

‘I’ve known her since she was a child,’ he said. ‘And sometimes I don’t think she’s changed a bit.’

‘You knew her father, I think you said?’

‘De Lissac. We came out to Africa in the same year. We served together. A good man to have beside you. We were very close.’

‘You obviously know the family well.’

‘Yes. I was the first person he told. When he got married. I warned him. I said, “There will be problems, Marcel!” “So?” he said. “You will help me solve them.” And, of course, I said I would. We were comrades. I was the best man at the wedding. Actually, the only other man at the wedding.’

He laughed.

‘Of course,’ he said, ‘they tried to break it up. They posted him all over the place, usually to places she couldn’t come to. But, then, to be fair, we were all being posted all over the place, often to places no one had ever heard of, places deep in the Sahara without a name. And I was often posted with him.’

He sipped his tea, and stroked his moustaches.

‘In those early years we were always fighting. You really get to know a man when you’re under fire together. Especially in tight situations. He saved my life, I saved his. Once we were out on patrol and my horse was hit. It went down and my leg was caught underneath. They were coming in on me and I thought I was done for. But then he came riding back, alone, and pulled me out and up on to his horse, and we rode away together. And once I did the same for him.

‘That’s when you really get to know a man. And not just then. There were times when we were together at some lonely outpost where nothing happened for weeks, months. You were thrown on each other. It is important then to have good comrades because otherwise you go mad. As some did. You talk, you talk — that is all you can do. And de Lissac and I talked. We put the world right together. For me especially it was an education. I came from a family which didn’t talk much, an old army family, you understand? His was like that, too, but he had a grandfather he talked with. About the great things, you know: life, death. And now he talked with me. I had never talked like that before. It was a revelation. So there were these things to life? I had never understood that before.

‘And then they had the baby, and we talked about that. Uncomprehending, on my part. I couldn’t see why he was so excited. A baby, just a baby, I thought. But now I come to see — I was the godfather. “You ought to get one for yourself,” he said, laughing. But I never did. We were always moving, you understand? At the places we were posted to there were never any women of the right sort. So, well, no wife, no baby. The only child I ever held in my arms was his.’

He stroked his moustaches again.

‘And then we were posted to Morocco. We even spent some time in Tangier. He was very happy because he could spend time with his wife.’

He looked at Seymour.

‘You know Marie? No? A remarkable woman. Stayed with him through thick and thin. And so — so aware of things! At first I was — well, you know, I had my doubts. About her being a Moroccan, you know. But I could see — see she made him happy. And in time I got to know her too. So easy to talk to, so understanding. I forgot she was Moroccan. What did I care about that sort of thing? What did it matter if she was brown, black, pink or whatever? She was the wife of a brother officer. That was enough.’

He stopped.

‘And then we were sent to Casablanca.’

He hesitated.

‘You know about Casablanca.’

‘A little.’

‘Yes. Well. There you are.’