Never an Empire (17 page)

‘What's this, Maria?'

‘Fried fish.'

‘Not the fish,' he picked up his fork and poked at the pahos, ‘these things. I've told you before I don't like them.'

‘They're good for you.'

‘So is fasting and I prefer that to these things.'

‘You should eat them; they're paho, a national food.'

‘Perhaps, but not liking them, whatever they're called, isn't insulting the national flag.'

‘Well they won't taste any better cold so stop poking at them and eat them.'

Father Enrique picked up his knife.

‘I'll eat the fish.'

‘What was I supposed to do? The woman was small, a thin thing, probably older than me. She must have set out before first light to bring the fruit to the market and it was a load you probably couldn't lift never mind carry. Should I have passed by on the other side, ignored her, made excuses?' Father Enrique knew at once he was beaten and would have to eat the bitter, salty things. Her words, of course, were an echo of the parable of the Good Samaritan which had so often been a theme of his when he preached from the pulpit on Sundays. He knew what was coming next. ‘And if you leave them it will be a waste, a sin, good food being thrown away because you are too faddy to eat it. Isn't that a form of pride, Father, picking and choosing from among the abundance of God's good creation to suit your own selfish tastes?'

‘Oh very well,' and he took a forkful, ‘but I still don't like them.'

Maria smiled, left him and returned to her kitchen.

Standing by the open back door was Carmen. Maria walked across, took a good hold of Carmen's upper arm, led her a few paces out into the garden, then let go of her.

Carmen looked at her sullenly, rubbing the place Maria's hand had held her.

‘So you've turned up, have you? I wondered how long it would be.'

‘Why not? Father Enrique asked me to come and it's his house.'

‘It is, but I'm his housekeeper.'

Carmen's attitude changed. She didn't want to oppose this woman or be opposed by her.

‘Look, he wants me, you know that, why not let him have me? What harm is there?'

‘I don't know yet.'

‘None. I know what he wants and I know how to give it to him. He's a priest but he's also a man like any other, so why not please him? Is it so terrible?' She waited. ‘You didn't seem to mind so much last time. You could have stopped it easily if you'd wanted to.'

‘Oh I don't mind him having a roll around in bed now and then but I might mind a great deal having a woman living here cluttering up my arrangements.'

‘I won't get in your way.'

‘I know; I won't let you.'

A thought occurred to Carmen.

‘You're not jealous, are you?'

That brought a quiet laugh.

‘Of having him poking me? If I'd wanted that sort of thing I could have had it long ago and with better men than him. But you see, I'm not the whore type.'

Carmen blushed angrily but didn't reply at once. With an effort she controlled herself. She needed this woman as an ally, not an enemy.

‘That is a cruel thing to say.'

‘Why, isn't it true?'

‘No. I'm not a whore. I need a home for me and my daughter. I need food, shelter, and a future for us. Father Enrique can give us that and in return I can give him what he wants. That's fair, isn't it?'

‘Who to? Your husband?'

The flush returned but again she held her tongue. The words used against her meant nothing; she could more than hold her own if it was just a matter of words, but not being able to respond in kind, having to toady to this woman was a very bitter thing for her to have to swallow.

‘My husband left me. He went into the mountains. When he comes back it is like the other men, for sex and a good meal then, when he's had his fill he's off to his beloved army again. What sort of marriage is that? What sort of father is he? I need a friend, a protector to watch over me and my child.' It wasn't easy but she tried to get as much humility into her appeal as she could. ‘Won't you allow me my chance? Where else could I go?'

Maria didn't answer at once and Carmen waited.

‘I'll think about it. For the moment you can stay but keep out of sight until tonight then come back after he's gone to bed and tomorrow, early, slip into his bed like you did the first time. Make him remember the first time. If you're married you know that men soon get used to sex and begin to take it for granted. When he's got over the first rush of his passion and calms down a bit he'll start to think and when he does he might decide he's made a mistake. Maybe he's started thinking like that already.'

Carmen smiled.

‘He's a man. When they're in bed it's not their heads that do the thinking, is it?'

‘He's a man, yes, but he's also our priest. We had to wait long enough to get any sort of priest and now we've got a good one. I don't want him unsettled and it's not going to be easy for him to adjust.'

‘But you'll help? You'll help him to adjust?'

‘We'll see. It depends on how things work out. Now go. I'll open the back door and show a light in the window when he's gone to bed.'

‘You mean stand about or walk streets? Why can't I come into the kitchen?'

‘Because I say wait, where you go and what you do is your own business so long as he doesn't know you're back and if you want my help you'll do as I say.'

Carmen didn't like it but she knew she'd have to accept it.

‘Very well.'

She turned and walked away. Maria watched her go. She found herself feeling unsettled, uncomfortable. It wasn't right. Odd things had been happening and all happening too quickly. First Carmen wheedling herself into the house, then the trouble at the village with the police, then the American turning up. Now Carmen was back and looking for her help to get back into the house. It was obvious to Maria that she hadn't liked asking for her help, hadn't liked it at all, but she had forced herself to do it. What was it she wanted? Not just a roof over her and her child's head, that was for sure. She seemed more than ready to leave her child at her village when she first came to San Juan. No, something was wrong. She couldn't be sure what it was but she felt it was all somehow connected and if that was the case then it might very well be something to do with the general. What else was there in this part of the world to make the American interested in their town? And why did Father Enrique interest him? Which brought her back to the thing with the police, which brought her back to the village, which brought her back to Carmen. But there, full circle, it stopped. She could get no further. She was glad she had arranged a meeting for next week. She would make a full report and when the general heard it he would know what to do.

A voice came from the house behind her.

‘Maria, what are you doing idling out here? I've finished my lunch. Where's my coffee?' Father Enrique stepped out into the garden. ‘Has there been somebody? Were you out here gossiping?'

Maria gently shepherded Father Enrique back into the kitchen.

‘No, I had the beginnings of a headache and I came outside to see if it would help.'

‘A headache?'

She kept him moving until he was back in the dining room.

‘Yes, not too bad but I've been getting them lately.'

Father Enrique's voice was full of concern.

‘Really? You should have told me. I would have gone to the doctor and got you something.'

She sat him down and picked up the empty plate.

‘I see you finished them all.'

‘Yes, but I still don't like them.'

‘I'll get you a coffee and I'll pour you a small brandy to take away the taste. How's that?'

She was like a mother fussing over her son. Father Enrique rather enjoyed it. His mother had often fussed over him in much the same way. It brought back fond memories.

‘That will be nice.'

Maria turned, went back into the kitchen, and poured a coffee, then went to a cupboard and took out a bottle and a small brandy. She took both drinks in and put them on the table.

‘Relax a while, Father; you work hard, you need to rest and relax occasionally.'

‘Thank you, Maria, I think I will.'

Maria went back into the kitchen, then to the back door and looked out into the empty garden. He was a good priest. If he wanted a pretty woman in his bed, well, why not? But she didn't want him unsettled. Her mind moved on to other things. Next week she'd send her report to the general and whatever it was, whatever the American was up to, the General would know how to take care of it.

Chapter Twenty

On the same day the following week and at her usual time Maria was in the market. She stopped in front of the paho seller who was sitting in the same place, her wares displayed in front of her on the straw mat.

‘Well, mother, did you carry it all yourself or did your son help this time?'

‘My son is a good boy.'

‘He helped?'

‘Yes.'

‘And where is he now?'

‘In church praying for me. He is a good son, very devout; he'll stay in church for an hour, no more, then he must leave. He has other work to see to besides helping his mother.'

‘You are lucky to have such a son.'

Maria turned to go but the woman called to her and she stopped.

‘Aren't you going to buy anything?'

‘No, I don't like sour things. I only bought them as a treat for someone I know.'

The woman looked down at her fruit.

‘They're not to everyone's taste. Won't you buy some for your friend? My son and I walked a long way to get them here.'

Maria picked up half a dozen of the small, green fruit, haggled for a moment then paid and went on her way. Instead of strolling and stopping to talk and buy, she hurried, leaving the market with her basket not even half full. She walked quickly back to the church, covered her head, and went in. Morning Mass and Confessions were long over and the church was empty except for a young man in one of the pews, whose head was bent in prayer.

Maria left her basket beside the door, genuflected to the altar, then moved into the pew where the young man knelt. He looked round, made the sign of the cross and sat up.

‘Yes?'

‘I have a report to make. Things have been happening, unusual things. There is a young woman who managed to wheedle her way into the house. She has slept with the priest.'

She waited in case the young man wanted to make any comment or ask a question.

‘Slept with the priest, yes, go on.'

‘She told me she had been sent by her village. That they wanted her to try and get the priest to go there.'

He turned this time and looked at her.

‘For what reason?'

‘There hasn't been a priest in their village for many years.'

‘To say Mass, baptise, and marry?'

‘Yes.'

‘Nothing more?'

‘That is what she told me.'

‘And you helped her?'

‘It didn't seem unreasonable. She gave him something so he should give her something.'

‘And he went?'

‘Yes.'

‘With a police escort?'

‘Yes.'

‘Did he ask for the escort?'

‘No, not that I know of. In fact I'm sure he didn't.'

‘But he got one anyway.'

‘Yes.'

‘And a lieutenant from our army was waiting?'

‘We didn't know that at first, but the next morning he was there and the policemen were taken. The woman who slept with the priest was the lieutenant's wife.'

That got a surprised look.

‘Are you sure?'

‘Yes. She was at his side when he presented himself to the priest. They had their child with them.'

‘I see. What else?'

‘Then there has been an American.'

Another surprised look.

‘An American? What sort of American?'

‘He said he was a reporter from New York.' And slowly, carefully, and as accurately as she could, Maria told him about the American's visit and what had passed between him and Father Enrique. She finished with Carmen's return and her taking up residence in the house once more.

‘She doesn't like me and I don't make it pleasant for her but she bites her tongue. It's not easy for her to do that, I can see, she's a cat and she'd prefer to claw but she wants Father Enrique to take her back. She seems to want it very much. Too much.'

‘Yes. How did the priest explain having her there in the first place?'

‘He didn't, I did. I told people she was the daughter of my cousin who has come from her village to stay with me and look for work. I said her father's sick and her family need the money for medicine. While she's looking she's helping me out.'

‘And people accept that?'

‘He's our priest, a good priest; people want him to stay. Why make trouble for him? If I say my cousin has a pretty daughter who needs to find work and lives in the house why should they bother if I'm telling the truth or not?'

‘But you're worried?'

‘Too many things, too quickly, connected but not connected and all to do with the woman. I thought the general should know.'

‘Yes, I agree. The general needs to know.'

‘Do you know this lieutenant?'

‘I know of him. Lately we've all come to know of him. He's very close to the general since he got our men back.'

‘Is there anything else? Think carefully.'

‘No, I don't think so.'

The young man then asked Maria a few more questions which she answered as best she could. Neither looked round while they were talking so neither noticed a face look round the church door and watch them. It was Carmen's face.

When Maria arrived back in her kitchen Carmen was sitting at the table. Maria ignored her and put her basket on the table. She took out the pahos and threw them into the waste bin.