It transpired that Hector’s job was to go from one equatorial country to another, starting up plantations for Pinker and checking on his existing ones, making sure that each was run along exactly the same lines whether it was situated in Bangalore or
Buenos Aires.At one point the sour Scot launched into a long ex-planation of the difficulties of growing coffee in the mountains of Jamaica.
“Come now,” I muttered.“It can hardly be that challenging.” He glared at me.“Wha’?”
“Listening to your account,” I said, “I am struck by an obvious inconsistency. On the one hand you tell us that coffee is now the most cultivated crop in the world—more plentiful even than cot-ton or rubber. On the other, you wish us to believe that it is fiendishly difficult to grow. Surely it cannot be both.”
“Robert,” Emily murmured reprovingly.
“No, he makes a good point,” Hector said equably. “But I’m afraid, Robert, you reveal your ignorance—your ignorance of conditions in the field. Aye, coffee’s easy enough to grow. But that disnae mean it’s easy to make a profit. It’s four years from clearing the forest to picking your first crop—four years of planting, weeding, tending, irrigating, before you see so much as a penny. Four years in which ye have to pay your workers, unless of course you’re—” He stopped.
“Unless what?” I asked.
“I will not have slavery, or anything approaching it, on a Pinker’s plantation,” Pinker said firmly.“That is never negotiable.” “Aye, of course,” Crannach said, recovering himself. “Quite right, too. As I was saying, you have obligations for years before you take a crop. And by its very nature coffee is grown in mountainous regions. It has to be dried, transported—that’s the biggest cost of all: not so much the last two thousand miles by sea, but the
hundred miles getting it to the sea in the first place.”
“Which is why, increasingly, we are establishing plantations in areas that already have good trading routes,” Pinker added.
“And why we must ensure that—” Hector began, but Pinker interrupted him.
“Hector, we have talked business long enough. My daughters are getting bored.”
“I’m not bored,” the Frog said.“I like hearing about all the different countries. But I should most like to know if you met any cannibals.”
Hector, it seemed, had not only met cannibals, but had been received into the very highest echelons of cannibal society.After ten minutes I stifled a yawn.“What adventures you have had, my dear Crannach. And you relate them so thrillingly. You shot them all, you say? How I do envy you. I myself have never shot anything more exciting than my cuffs.”
The Frog giggled. Hector glared. Emily merely sighed.
The food
was excellent. Pinker had served us a proper meal— none of these
à la Russe
sideboards for him: there were enough forks, knives, silverware and so on to supply a whole team of sur-geons. By each plate there stood a handwritten menu. If I remember rightly, the bill of fare was as follows:
Huîtres natives Petite bouchée norvégienne
Tortue claire Crème Dubary
Homard sauté à la Julien Aiguillete de sole. Sauce Germanique Zéphir de poussin à la Brillat-Savarin
Selle d’agneau à la Grand-Veneur Petits pois primeur à la Française Pomme nouvelle persillade Spongada à la Palermitaine
Jambon d’York braisé au champagne
Caille à la Crapaudine Salade de saison
Asperges vertes en branche. Sauce mousseuse Timbale Marie-Louise
Soufflé glacé Pompadour Petits fours assortis
What with one thing and another, it was several hours before the ladies excused themselves.The footman placed a box of cigars on the table and withdrew. Crannach took his leave. I think he had probably had rather too much to drink; if so it was fortuitous, as I needed to speak to Pinker man to man.
My employer poured himself a tumbler of port. “Tell me, Robert,” he said thoughtfully,“where do you see yourself, say, five years from now?”
I took a deep breath.“Well—married, I suppose.”
“Married?” Pinker nodded. “That’s good. Marriage is a wonderful thing. It makes a man more settled—gives him purpose.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
“Of course, a man with the expense of a household needs money.”
“He certainly does,” I agreed, pouring myself some more port. “And tell me something else,” he said humorously, clipping the end off a cigar. “I have noticed that, while the specific task for which I engaged your services is now essentially completed, you
are still coming to my office almost every day.”
“I cannot deny it,” I answered with a faint smile.
“And there is, perhaps, a reason for this—a particular reason?” “There is,” I agreed.
“I thought as much.” He puffed at a candle to get his cigar go-ing, then chuckled.“I was the same at your age.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I was—oh—burning with ambition. I had met Susannah— the girls’ mother—and I only had one thought in my head.”
This was an unexpected stroke of luck. If Pinker had once been in the shoes of an impoverished suitor himself, my job would be that much easier.
“So.” He puffed contentedly. “Pinker’s is, as you’ll have observed, a family business. More than that: our business
is
our family.”
“Of course.”
“It’s something we pride ourselves on. And you”—he pointed with the cigar—“fit into that family very well.”
“Thank you,” I said.This was going far better than I could have hoped.
“You are a little—well, shall we say when I first met you I had my doubts. I wondered . . . to be frank, I wondered if you were quite man enough for the job. But you are an amusing young fel-low, Robert, and I have become increasingly fond of you.”
I nodded modestly.
“Let me get to the point. I want you to become a permanent part of the Pinker family.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Far from me having to convince Pinker of my suitability as a husband, it almost seemed that he was trying to convince me of it!
He puffed on his cigar. “Perhaps you are wondering if you are up to it.”
“No, I am confident—”
He chuckled. “Of course you are. And why not? You have the energy of youth.” He leaned forward, underlining his words with the glowing tip of his cigar. “
Energy.
It’s the critical ingredient. Never forget it.”
“I won’t.”
“Every morning you have to wake up and say to yourself: I
am ready. I am equal to this challenge. I am man enough. Every morning!”
“Quite,” I said, slightly taken aback by Pinker’s unexpectedly physical attitude to matrimony.
“What you are considering is an adventure—a great challenge.
There will be times when it is difficult.” I nodded.
“You will think, why am I here? Why am I doing this?” I laughed along with him.
“My advice,” he said, suddenly serious again, “is not to ask too much of yourself, Robert. No one expects you to be a saint, eh? Not in those conditions. Give yourself a few days’ holiday every once in a while. Then come back to the task with your vigor re-newed.You understand what I’m saying?”
“I think so,” I said cautiously. This was certainly rather more man-to-man than I had been expecting. But Pinker might simply think that encouraging his son-in-law to visit prostitutes occasionally was the Rational, modern thing to do.
“Of course, your lack of experience will make it harder. You have none whatsoever, I suppose?”
“Well, I’ve, er, actually there has been the odd occasion—” “Believe me, it will still be a shock. Oh yes—I’ve been there,
and it’s a shock. But we were all inexperienced once—and what I wouldn’t give to be in your shoes, a young man again, setting out on this great journey! Now then. Let’s talk money.”
“Very well.” I took a deep breath.This was the point at which it could all become unstuck.“I really don’t have very much.”
To my surprise, Pinker grinned.“I thought as much.” “You did?”
“Everything I’ve paid you so far has been spent, hasn’t it?” “I’m afraid it has, yes.”
“Do you have debts?” “A few.”
Emboldened by his unexpectedly indulgent smile, I explained about Ike and his loans.
“So you’ve been borrowing more principal to pay the interest?” Pinker winced. “Oh, that’s bad.That’s very bad.” He glanced at me shrewdly. For a moment I was struck by how much his own expression resembled the moneylender’s.“But it’s a detail, it can be taken care of when you have an income. Shall we say—three hundred a year? With another three hundred for your expenses? And a year’s money in advance?”
It was not quite as much as I had hoped, but it seemed ignoble to haggle.“Very well.”
“There’ll be a bonus after four years if the enterprise is as fruitful as we both expect.”
I stared at him.The coffee merchant was actually proposing to give me a bonus for getting Emily pregnant! Just for a moment I reflected what a shame it was that I was forced to marry into such a family.Then I remembered the three hundred a year, with three hundred expenses. And all for doing nothing more onerous than fornicating with his beautiful daughter on a regular basis.“I accept with pleasure.”
“Excellent.”
“I just hope Emily does,” I joked. Pinker frowned.“Emily?”
“I’d better go and ask her, hadn’t I?” “Ask her what?”
“If she’ll marry me.”
The frown deepened.“You will do no such thing.” “But—now you and I have agreed these terms—what is left to
delay us?”
“Oh, my God.” Pinker passed his hand over his brow. “You prize fool—you surely didn’t imagine—what do you think I am offering you?”
“Well—your daughter’s, er, hand—”
“I was offering you a career,” he snapped.“You said you wanted to go abroad—said you were ambitious—that you needed employment in order to become marriageable.”
“I was rather hoping that marriage would mean the end of needing to be employed,” I said nervously.
“Of course you can’t marry Emily. It’s unthinkable.” He stared at me, aghast.“What does
she
know of this?”
“Um . . .”
“If you have so much as touched her,” he hissed, “I’ll have you whipped from here to Threadneedle Street.” He put his hand to his forehead. “Your debts—oh Lord—that bastard moneylender must be hoping—we must avoid another scandal.” He picked up the tumbler of port, looked at it, then put it down on the table again. “I need to speak to Emily. I will see you in my office, sir, at nine tomorrow morning. Good-night.”
Misunderstandings, cross-purposes, mixed messages. Yes, yes, I know—how droll that the first consequence of producing the Guide should be muddle on such an epic scale.
[
twenty-one
]
walked as far as the City. It was raining: the Jacquard
jacket and turban were soon drenched, the cloth heavy as a dou-blet and barely more waterproof. Eventually I found a cab that would take me as far as Marylebone. I trudged back to my rooms through the drizzle, wondering how the evening could have gone
so disastrously wrong.
There was a public bar on the corner. From the outside it was all warm lights, gleaming brass, and glowing windows etched with the names of the brewer’s products. I could not face the silence of my rooms. I stepped inside.
It was almost empty. I ordered brandy and sat down.There were a few girls in there, sheltering from the rain: one of them caught my eye and smiled. I suppose I must have smiled back, because she picked up her glass, said something to her companions, and came over.
“Do you tell fortunes?” she asked. “No,” I said brusquely.
“Are you a Hindoo, then?” “No, I’m as English as you are.”
“Oh.Why are you—?” She indicated my clothes.
“I went to a dinner.” I pulled off my sodden turban and gulped the brandy.
“Would you like me to sit with you?”
I glanced at her. She was pleasant enough, but I did not find her remotely attractive.“Not for business, I’m afraid. Sorry. Not in the mood.”
She shrugged.“For company, then?” “How much do you charge for company?”
She sat down and pushed her glass across the table. “If you fill that up, you can watch me drink it for free. On a night like this, I’d rather be in here with a beer than out there looking for trade.”
I waved to the barmaid and pointed at both our glasses.“What’s your name?” I asked my companion.
“Mary.What’s yours?”
She had a directness I rather liked.“Robert.” “Why’re you here, Robert?”
“What do you mean?”
“No one wanders around on a night like this without a reason.”
“Ah.” I finished my first brandy and started on the second. “Tonight I asked the father of the girl I love for his permission to marry her.”
“It didn’t go well, then?” She was no fool, this Mary.
“About as badly as it could have gone,” I said sourly.
Mary placed a hand on my arm. “Buy us both another drink,” she suggested,“and you can tell me all about it.”
Needless to say, a little more than half an hour later I had her in a room upstairs, up against a washstand, my hands clasped around her solid, rippling thighs, while for her part she panted and gasped into the basin, and I watched my own reflection in the mirror.
• • •
As I neared
my rooms I noticed two men lurking in a doorway. I ignored them, but as I pushed the key into the lock I heard footsteps. Something small, hard and very heavy, like a billiard ball in a sock, smashed against my neck.As I spun round I was felled by another colossal crack across the side of my head. My first thought, as I hit the ground, was that Pinker had sent thugs to warn me off, but even in my semi-concussed state I knew that was unlikely.
One of the men bent over me. In his hand was a blackjack. “Don’t even
fink
of leaving the country without payin’ your
debts,” he hissed.
A big house like Pinker’s, of course, was no more private than Trafalgar Square. Anyone could bribe a servant to send word when something important occurred. News of my falling-out with Pinker had probably spread by now to every interested party in London.
“Are you from Ike? Tell him I’ll pay—” Abruptly, I realized I could not pay.“I’ll borrow some more from him tomorrow.”