Josep Maria de Sagarra - Private Life

He did not swear alone for long, though, because Guillem had just rung the bell. When he heard that Don Tomàs was doing poorly and the father confessor was in house, he headed straight for the spiral of smoke curling out from under the lamp in the center of the dining room. Elbows on the table, his head hidden between his hands, Frederic was letting the minutes tick by, without even enough drive to take a puff of the Camel that was burning out on its own. When he heard his brother’s footsteps, he lifted his gaze and looked at him with utter indifference. Guillem took three hundred pesseta bills out of his pocket and examined them in silence. Smiling the forced smile one adopts on leaving the dentist after he has extracted a molar, Frederic said to Guillem:

“You seem to be flush?”

“Yes, a little business, very minor, nothing much at all, three bills. Blue bills, the pale blue of the month of Mary. I don’t know why they tint money such an innocent shade of blue. Look, King Philip II — what a face, huh? Don’t you think Papà bears some resemblance to Philip II in the portraits of him as a youth? He has the same mouth and protruding chin, and eyes that always seem to be watching a Corpus procession. If Papà had been Philip II he would already have had me killed, just like the Infant Don Carles. Speaking of which, I hear he’s not well, and Mossèn Claramunt is in there humoring him.”

“We had an argument, yes. Let’s say I’m responsible.”

“I don’t know when you’re going to learn how to deal with Papà. Don’t you see there’s no point in arguing? We will never be able to get along with him.”

“I assure you, if it weren’t out of pure necessity, I wouldn’t say as much as half a word to our father.”

“You take the wrong approach. The two of you don’t get along because you’re as alike as two raindrops. You are just like Papà … a little bit more modern, at best.”

“Look, Guillem, I don’t want to hear this cr …”

“Watch your words, brother dear. If Mamà should hear you …”

“Guillem, I tell you I’m in no mood, eh?”

“All right. What’s the matter?”

“It’s none of your business. It’s not as if you could do anything about it.”

“You never know, my dear brother. I take it you argued about money?”

“Look, Papà has a way about him that’s just not right. I asked him to co-sign a promissory note. There is absolutely no danger to him, for now, at least. A year from now is another thing. And he flew into a rage!”

“It’s entirely natural. I don’t know how you dare propose such a thing to him.”

“I’m not joking, you know.”

“Neither am I!”

“You must understand, even if you’re just a kid, that there are moments of gravity in life, and I …”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that if he doesn’t want to sign, he is perfectly within his rights. But for him to say by way of justification that I am this or that, and to threaten me with damnation …”

“Just a bunch of words. Does any of this matter to you?”

“Well, even if he is my father, he has no right to say such things. And I didn’t bite my tongue either. I gave him an earful. I’ve had enough of all his virtue and saintliness and …”

“For God’s sake, Frederic, stop shouting. And enough of this offensive rubbish. You have no sense of diplomacy, my boy. One more episode like this and he’s a goner, and then it will be even worse. Ludicrous as he is, there are still a lot of things that don’t collapse because he’s around — don’t you realize that?”

“You know what, I just don’t care anymore. Let it all go to rot!”

“Listen, how much is this note for?”

“Fifty thousand pessetes.”

“And do you know anyone who would still lend you fifty thousand pessetes?”

“Don’t be an idiot! Of course I can find someone. I can get an extension, they just want Papà’s signature.”

“And who is this very … cautious person?”

“You don’t know him. He’s one of my card partners at the Eqüestre.”

“And his name cannot be revealed?”

“Oh, yes, sure. It’s Antoni Mates, the cotton dealer …”

“Antoni Mates? Oh, this is just too rich! Ha, Antoni Mates.”

“What are you talking about, Frederic, you’re too young to know him. What’s with all this silly laughter? He’s a friend of mine, you know, a perfect gentleman.”

“Antoni Mates! The one who bought his title — el Baró de … what was it?”

“Yes, yes, El Baró de Falset.”

“And you spend your time with pigs like him?”

“I am telling you, he is a perfectly respectable person, who did me a great favor. I abused his generosity, and now the man naturally wants some security.”

“All right, Frederic, all right. Congratulations on the friendships you keep.”

“Listen, Guillem, do you realize you’re being a jerk?”

“I do. But, look, let’s speak frankly now, man to man.”

“Don’t get all uppity on me now.”

“Frederic, I assume you do not have fifty thousand pessetes.”

“Of course I don’t.”

“Nor will you have them a year from now.”

“That’s very likely.”

“And Papà wants nothing to do with it.”

“Nothing at all.”

“And there is no one you can go to with your sob story.”

“No one.”

“So now what?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will Antoni Mates swallow the debt?

“How naive can you be?”

“You’re the one who’s naive, thinking he’s such a gentleman and such a good friend. Now let’s imagine Antoni Mates wants the debt to be paid, and this takes precedence over your friendship and your bridge table. Do you think Antoni Mates is capable of such a thing?”

“Not only do I think he’s capable of it, I’m certain that’s exactly what will happen.”

“And your great friendship …?

“Well, friends, maybe we’re not friends … when there’s money at stake, there’s no such thing as friendship. In any case, Antoni Mates is under no obligation to me. He must have been in a generous mood. Maybe he had had a little too much whiskey. Lately our relations have changed a bit …”

“Listen, Frederic. Do you want to get this note you signed back? Do you?”

“Guillem, unless I pay, I don’t see any way for the note to come back to me.”

“You’re being obtuse. If it were a question of paying so much as a penny I wouldn’t have asked the question.”

“Do you mean I should steal it?”

“Steal? What an inelegant word.”

“Then I don’t get it.”

“Your ‘good friend’ owes me a sort of favor that could obligate him to a an act of absolute generosity. Do you understand now?”

“Listen, I like to play clean.”

“Will Antoni Mates play clean if you don’t pay up?”

“I don’t know, but he will play legal.”

“And to hell with you?”

“All right, that’s enough. If you want to play games, you can play with someone else.”

“I’m not playing games. I want to save your skin, don’t you get it? If you want to play the gentleman, you can pay your debt to Antoni Mates, if you feel so inclined, when you are able. But for now, allow me to speak in our self-interest. I am just as much your father’s son as you are, I carry the same ‘illustrious’ name as you, and, understand me, Frederic, I will also suffer the ill effects of your ‘irregularities’ if the Lloberola name is left at the mercy of the first Antoni Mates who comes along.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that it is in my interest for you not to pay off this note and for Antoni Mates to send it to you as if he were sending you a box of cigars. I do this not only for you, but for me, as well, and for Papà, and for my own personal business dealings.”