Хеннинг Манкелль - A Treacherous Paradise

She was already standing on the veranda when dawn broke. There was an expectation within her that she tried to dampen down, but without success. She had never felt as strongly as this when she had been waiting for Lundmark, or Senhor Vaz. But she certainly felt that way now.

Moses didn’t show up. After having waited in vain all morning, she decided he must have already gone back to the mines. He hadn’t meant what he said about coming back to her house. She didn’t feel he had deceived her: he had been certain that she would understand his decision. He didn’t want her money. All he wanted was to return to the mines, where he felt at home.

However, at around noon a little boy came to the front door of the house and handed in a sealed envelope with Ana’s name on it. Julietta carried it up to her room. Ana asked her to leave before she opened the envelope. She didn’t recognize the handwriting, but it was — as she had hoped — from Moses. He asked her to go to Beira and try to find his and Isabel’s parents, and tell them that she was dead. It was a mission he wanted to entrust to her, and was sure that Isabel would have felt the same.

She put the letter in her desk drawer, and locked it. As usual, she hung the key round her neck.

The letter had made her both upset and disappointed. Why had Moses chosen to give her a task that he ought to have carried out himself? Had she misjudged him, just as she had misjudged O’Neill? Did Moses lack the courage his sister had possessed? She felt increasingly despondent, but at the same time wondered if she had misunderstood his motives for bestowing the honour of undertaking this journey upon her. She didn’t even know who to talk to, in an attempt to understand better. Could Felicia be of help again? She was doubtful, and chose in the end to speak to Father Leopoldo, who had met Isabel after all, and might be able to explain Moses’ behaviour.

She found him sitting on a chair in the cathedral, listening to the children’s choir practising. Ana recalled her first visit, and tears came into her eyes. She wasn’t sure if this was a result of the children’s singing, or of the memory of that first time she had ever entered the cathedral.

Father Leopoldo noticed her, and took her into a room where the priests kept their vestments. The singing of the children’s choir could be heard faintly through the thick walls. She told Father Leopoldo about Isabel’s burial and Moses’ letter.

‘Why is he asking me to go and look for her parents?’

‘Perhaps he wants to show them the greatest respect he can think of: sending a white woman to inform them about a death. How often does a white woman or man do something like that for a simple black miner?’

‘But he was her brother, surely?’

‘I think he wants to honour her memory by asking you to do it.’

‘Then why didn’t he say so? Why did he promise he would come back, and then simply send me a letter?’

‘In a way he did come back. He wrote down his plea to you.’

Ana was still doubtful, despite the fact that there was something convincing about Father Leopoldo’s voice. She thought that he might well have understood better than she had why Moses had done what he did. Then Father Leopoldo asked her cautiously how she had reacted to Isabel’s death. She told him the truth: her sorrow still hadn’t hit her with full force, and she was afraid of the moment when it eventually arrived.

‘What are you going to do now, Senhora? You have frequently talked about leaving here.’

‘I don’t know. But I do know that I must soon make up my mind.’

The conversation was interrupted by Father Leopoldo being summoned to listen to a confession. Ana walked through the empty church. The choir had stopped singing and the children had left. Then she noticed somebody sitting in the darkness next to the big entrance door. It was Senhor Nunez. He was waiting for her. I’m being watched all the time, she thought. There are so many who see me without my seeing them.

Nunez stood up and bowed. She raised her hand.

‘Don’t say anything! Give me a moment to think!’

Nunez nodded and sat down again. Ana flopped down on a chair after having turned her back on Nunez.

She stared out through the open door, straight into the bright sunlight. And she made up her mind almost immediately. She didn’t need to hesitate any longer. She knew what she wanted to do.

She turned her chair to face Nunez.

‘I’m going to sell my establishment,’ she said. ‘I want paying in English pounds, and I want the whole amount in one go. You must promise to observe the same rules and procedures as apply now. I don’t care what you do after the women who are working there now have moved on. I don’t believe in the children’s home you spoke about.’

‘I shall respect your demands, of course. But I’m still thinking about that children’s home.’

Ana stood up.

‘You don’t need to lie to me. Come round to my house tomorrow afternoon, and bring the money with you.’

‘But we haven’t agreed on a price yet.’

‘I’m not going to name a price — but I’ll tell you if you come with too little money. In that case I’ll sell to somebody else. A lawyer will have prepared a contract. I want the whole affair to be settled immediately.’

She didn’t wait for a response, simply stood up and left the cathedral. Now I’m the one who’s leaving the underworld, she thought; but in contrast to Isabel, I’m still alive.

The following day Andrade drew up two contracts. One was for the sale of Ana’s house, for which he was to pay £4,000, with all the furniture included in the deal. He also promised to keep all the staff on for at least a year, and after that to pay Anaka’s and Rumigo’s pensions.

The other contract concerned the sale of the brothel business to Senhor Nunez. To Andrade’s surprise Ana requested him to leave a line blank for the selling price to be written in. Nor did the contract include any mention of the brothel being converted into a children’s home.

At three o’clock in the afternoon Nunez arrived. He offered £4,000 for the establishment. Ana said that she wanted £5,000, as she was convinced that was the sum he had in his fat leather briefcase. Nunez smiled and agreed. All aspects of the sale were completed in less than an hour.

‘Four days from now you can take over everything,’ she said. ‘Before then you are not allowed inside the premises. And you are not allowed to breathe a word about our deal until I’ve spoken to everybody who works here. Where have you got all your money from?’

Nunez smiled and shook his head.

‘Revealing my source of income is not a part of our deal.’

‘Elephant tusks? Lionskins? Secret diamond mines that nobody knows about?’

‘I’ve no intention of answering your question.’

‘As long as you are not a slave trader,’ said Ana.

‘What will happen to the chimpanzee?’ Nunez asked, pointing at Carlos who was sitting on top of the tall cupboard. ‘Is he a non-specified part of our agreement?’

‘He’s coming with me,’ said Ana. ‘His future is my responsibility, not yours. I hope you also noticed that I didn’t require that the brothel should be converted into a children’s home. Why should I demand something that you have no intention of doing? I want you to leave now. We’ve concluded our business, and don’t need to talk to each other.’

Nunez eyed her up and down. He suddenly appeared sorrowful.

‘I don’t understand why you distrust me,’ he said. ‘Just like you I am upset about the way in which we treat black people. Maybe I’m not good through and through, but I hate the contempt we show towards these people. It is lunacy to believe that such an attitude can continue for ever and a day — an illusion, and very stupid.’