Tangier July 1978
Tangier
Sam stood motionless, one arm around Zahrah. She was fighting not to cry; he could feel the hitch of tears in her chest, barely contained.
Gone.
‘What happened? Tell me.’
She looked up at him, and for a moment there was such recrimination in her face he thought he wouldn’t be able to stand it.
‘We waited for you,’ she sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve. ‘Last night, we waited up but you didn’t come. In the end, Ale sent me out to get the evening papers … You promised,’ she said fiercely, stepping away from him. ‘You promised you’d stop it.’
‘I tried!’ He was too ashamed to meet her gaze. ‘I went to Norton’s office, I got Ale’s old passport back, I tried to make him leave the story alone, but …’ His voice trailed off and he gave a dull laugh. ‘I spent the night in jail. That’s why I didn’t come.’
‘In jail?’ Zahrah looked alarmed. ‘Why?’
He rubbed his eyes. ‘I got into a fight, with Norton.’ It sounded so ridiculous.
‘Everything would’ve been fine, but the police found the passport and decided they didn’t know what to do with me.
So they threw me in the lock-up. I’d probably still be there if my friend Bet hadn’t bailed me out.
’ After a moment’s silence, he looked up at her.
‘Please,’ he begged. ‘Zahrah, tell me what’s happened to Ale. ’
Her shoulders dropped. ‘Last night, we read that article of Norton’s,’ she said, sitting wearily on the edge of the bed.
‘Ale saw the bit about Langham, and Dar Portuna, and the authorities, and didn’t say a word, just locked the door of the study and didn’t come out all night.
’ Zahrah was worrying her hands, red with nail marks.
‘This morning, early, Ale came to the kitchen and asked me to go and buy the morning papers. Neither of us had slept, I could tell.’ She swallowed a sort of laugh.
‘It was just an excuse to get me out of the house … By the time I got back, everything was quiet. There was no sign of Ale. Nothing except for this.’
She reached into her bag and pulled out a thick envelope. There was writing on the front, addressed to him. He took it.
Dear Sam,
Don’t blame yourself. Some stories are beyond our control.
A
‘But – this doesn’t mean anything,’ he said, gripping the envelope. ‘Ale could have just … left town for a while, or something, until this blows over. You don’t know for certain that it’s for ever.’
He looked across at Zahrah. This time, there was no anger in her face, only sadness as she shook her head.
‘There was a letter for me too.’ She took a second envelope from the bag and held it in her lap. It was thick, containing many more pages than the one left for Sam. He caught a glimpse of writing on the front, the words Dearest Zahrah.
‘There’s a will inside,’ she said softly. ‘Ale has left me everything. Including Dar Portuna.’
‘Is there anywhere else Ale could have gone?’ Sam asked desperately. ‘A hotel, another house, friends?’ His voice ran out. Zahrah was shaking her head.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No one would leave a will unless they meant it. Unless they never intended to come back.’ She looked across at him.
‘In the letter Ale said I should come and find you right away, that we should read what’s in there together.
’ She nodded at the envelope in Sam’s hands, the one addressed to him.
He couldn’t believe it. Dazedly, he turned over the envelope and broke its seal. Inside were ten written pages, all in the same restless, dashing hand. He leafed through them, before turning back to the beginning, looking for a note, an explanation, anything.
‘“Shanghai”,’ he read, and glanced down the page. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Keep reading.’ Zahrah leaned closer to see the letter, her arm brushing against his.
He blinked hard, and cleared his throat.