by Julian Beale
‘Yes I can,’ was his immediate response, ‘and to be boring and factual, I can see also that there was no real need. Not in the usual way which affects things like this. I mean, there was no problem with money and so forth.’
He hadn’t put it as a question, but she answered him anyway.
‘No. None whatever. And it’s strange, you know, but marrying Alves has helped in other ways also. He’s an absolute model in the father role. He’s very proud of Anna, always there but never interfering. You know, we’ve settled into Lisbon very nicely thank you, accepted as a family and as a one child couple when we’re nothing of the kind. Three of us unrelated, more or less, but just good friends. Funny really.’
Aischa was musing as she noticed David grabbing at his table napkin to brush away the tears which rushed suddenly to his eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ he was embarrassed, ‘I should be true blue Brit. No nonsense and no blubbing.’
Aischa reached over and put her hand over his.
‘Don’t stop. You should be proud of your reaction, not ashamed of it,’ and she sat back smiling, pleased with him as she asked, ‘what brought that on with a rush?’
He smiled with her, and chucked the napkin back on the table.
‘Those lines from Rogers and Hammerstein came into my mind. From Carousel wasn’t it? — “you can have fun with a son, but you’ve got to be a father to a girl”. Instead of which, Aischa, I have gone blithely and blindly about my own life. Driven to succeed, whatever that may be, and always too obsessed with my distant past to either make or to meet my emotional commitments. I am ashamed. Instead of doing some giving, I’ve done way too much taking. I could’ve been more there for you over all these years. And for Anna. Well for Anna, I have done absolutely nothing. For my only child and daughter, I have done completely ... fuck all.’
Aischa’s sparkling smile seemed to light the night around her. She arched one eyebrow and remarked in her most mischievous tone,
‘If I recall correctly, that’s exactly what you did do!’
David shook his head and laughed with her. She wouldn’t permit him to lather himself in a bath of righteous self recrimination, and she was so right. He pulled himself sharply together and said,
‘OK, and thank you. Unspoken rebuke accepted. But tell me, Aischa, what do we do now? Do we have the full and frank discussion?’
Aischa shook her head as she sipped some cognac.
‘No, we absolutely do not. Look, David, you’re not quite through with surprises for this evening. So sit back and listen.’
David did as he was told and she resumed.
‘You know, God really does move in some mysterious ways. I know Anna is still only seventeen — well just — but she’s a pretty mature young lady and she already knows a fair bit about life. Probably more than you would care to know actually.’
David refused to be drawn, and Aischa went on,
‘I’ve said that she’s mature for her age. She’s fun but she’s not madcap. She’s realistic, but determined. I’ve known for a while that there’s one man in her life. He’s young, of course, but he is nearly five years older than her and like her in character. He’s very focussed, very sure of his own ground, quite certain of where he wants to go and with whom he wants to spend his life. And that’s Anna. And she wants him too. They’re set on getting married sometime next year and moving to England where he has a career — something to do with land in the wilds of the country. I‘ve tried to slow things down a bit, but what can you say? A hundred years ago, she would have been on the shelf at sixteen, so who’s to say they’re wrong? Even so, I really couldn’t form a judgement until I met him and Anna understood that, so she arranged a get together for the three of us just last week. He had a bit of holiday due and flew over specially. We had fun together and I like him. I really do. I think the two of them are going to be good together. Exceptionally good and I was happy to give them my blessing.’
David had to interrupt. ‘I trust you. I’m sure you’re right. But this is good news, isn’t it? Where’s the problem?”
‘There isn’t a problem, but there is a bearing on your question about talking through everything, and that’s because of his identity. You see, Darling, Anna has fallen in love with the son of one of your greatest friends. She wants to marry Oscar Aveling.’
David was stunned, ‘Good God! That’s incredible,’ he shook his head, ‘what an extraordinary thing. But how did it happen — I mean who introduced them?’
‘A bus conductor it seems! No, actually that’s the pure chance part. Oscar was over here on some friend’s stag party for a weekend. He went out on his own for a couple of hours to see the sights and he got lost. He can’t speak any Portuguese and he asked directions from a bus conductor who can’t speak English. Anna happened to be at the bus stop: boy meets girl and there you are!’
‘Well I’ll be damned. It sounds like a film script but I guess it is the sort of thing that happens: and what a great story.’
He paused to light a cigarette and looked serious as he took her hand.
‘You know, Aischa, you don’t have to spell out the rest. I’ve known the background for a long time and I imagine Anna has told you. Oscar is one of twins — and incidentally, how different from his brother Peter who is a scallywag if ever I met one. They’re the sons of Tepee Aveling, but my old chum Conrad is not their father. Indeed they may have different fathers because Tepee was gang raped and they are the result. That was years before she met Connie and he loved her more than enough to take them on. But what this means is that Oscar and Anna both are children of an unknown father, and that is one of the things which binds them together. So why say more? That’s your thought isn’t it?’
‘Precisely. But can you accept that?’
‘Oh yes, my love. Quite definitely I can and I agree with you one hundred per cent. But with just one condition.’
‘Which is?’
‘We leave the status quo as is, but if at any time in the future Anna should ask you about her father, then you must tell her. It’s one thing to keep silent, but something else to lie about it.’
Aischa considered for a moment, but she knew he was right and she nodded her acknowledgement as he went on speaking.
‘Does Alves know?’
She nodded again, adding, ‘Yes, of course. We’ve never kept anything from each other, but there’s no one else. I’ve never told my father, nor Rafa either.’
David sat forward again and reached across the table for her hand, saying,
‘In which case, I’ve got a request, a favour which I’d like to ask of you both.’
This had Aischa rolling her eyes but she squeezed his hand to encourage him.
‘It’s just that I want to pay for their wedding, and they must have whatever they want. Big, small, grand, discreet — absolutely whatever. You and Alves handle this anyway you want, but whatever it is, I just want to cover it.’
‘How very male. Many things you may be, David Heaven, but subtle you aren’t. We’ll see, but I expect we can work that one out, and I love the thought behind it.’
David hesitated before he put another question to her.
‘Does Anna...does she know about us?’
‘What a question, darling! Anna’s a girl and we women give far more thought to these things than you giant killing, hunter gatherer guys. But look, you better have more of an answer’.
She paused to take another cigarette and let David hold a light for her before she resumed.
‘I should say first that Anna knows all about Alves and our marriage: she’s known for years and she has no problem with any of that. She likes Alves — loves him even, and she values very highly the time and guidance and support which he has given her during all her years of growing up. He has been a constant for her.’
David flinched as her words nipped at him, but he kept silent as she continued.
‘She knows about you, too: not that you’re her natural father, but that you a
re my lover and companion. She cares about me, about my happiness and fulfilment, and now she is wondering about my future and what will happen after she has married and gone off to start her new life in England. I tell her that I’m content with Alves and I’m in love with you, except that I can only have you on high days and holidays.’
‘But that’s not fair, Aischa, you couldn’t just abandon poor Alves ...’
She interrupted him, leaning over and pressing her forefinger to his lips.
‘No, David my darling. It is fair. This has nothing to do with Alves: it’s all to do with you. There are times when I wish I could stop loving you, and God knows I’ve tried. There’s been no one else for me since you came back into my life, right here by this same fountain, and what was it, fifteen odd years ago? But you’re part time, aren’t you? There’s not room for me permanently, not even in that apartment of yours in London. I’m not saying you’re married to your job. It’s not that. You’re just like my father — married to an ideal, a dream, a vision. You don’t want to conceive a child, you want a whole new civilization and a country to put it in!’
Aischa paused to pull on her cigarette and then to stub it out before she continued,
‘Mind you, David Heaven, I’m pretty determined myself. You don’t get rid of me easily either.’
There was a warm pause between them, a look of love and a conspiratorial smile. Then she said,
‘And now, before I go home to our daughter, would you please take me somewhere where I can make love to you.’
HUGH DUNDAS —1990
It was late in January when Hugh met David Heaven for the first time. David had been travelling in Asia for two weeks and he called into Hong Kong on his way home to London. They found an instant empathy and acknowledged Alexa as the catalyst. At dinner on their first evening together, she chided David for not bringing Aischa with him and pointed out that the two couples had much in common: both so much together and yet still apart. This candour made for some intimate conversation and set the style for a business discussion in Hugh’s office the following day.
David was already well briefed on the size and scope of Head Investments. He had some idea of the wealth of Hugh Dundas and he could certainly appreciate his influence. The man was now regarded as another Warren Buffett and his global activities formed a staple diet for leading financial commentators. But no amount of research could have prepared David to meet the Hugh who had been memorably described to Alexa by Tina Fullerton as an ‘absolute fuckin’ brainbox, yet the bastard’s just a nice guy’.
As they sat talking that morning, David was alarmed to find himself struggling to keep up. It was one thing to have the background, the reputation, the knowledge and the prescience, but Hugh was further blessed with the calm confidence which rounded his ability. He’d had his setbacks and disappointments of course, and he told David about some of them, but in such a way as to illustrate how they had all become experiences which had brought ultimate benefit. There was more to Hugh than all of that: much more. As time passed, David was stimulated by the growing conviction that he was talking to a fellow traveller, a man with a lifetime mission on which he was not yet properly embarked. There was one big difference between them. David knew exactly what he wanted, whereas Hugh Dundas had yet to identify his lifetime goal.
This became clear to David while Hugh was talking about his work for charity. In behind it all, David felt he could see some more payback for Janey and he knew about the background from Alexa, plus there was more of course. Hugh was vastly rich and successful. His genuine desire was to contribute, to make a difference and there were examples which he admired like the Gates Foundation, but it was obvious to David that here was a subject of rare indecision for Hugh: he was not yet convinced of the area in which to make his commitment.
Lunchtime interrupted them before David could enquire more as they were going out to join Alexa. The three of them reminisced over a light snack, during which David was amused to find that Hugh’s outstanding double first had been won at Cambridge, but there were still places, people and experiences which they could share: they were of much the same age. David could see clearly that Alexa and Hugh had an incomplete, but very fulfilling relationship. They really were a matched and balanced couple from whom the happiness simply radiated. He had understood this before, but it made a difference to witness it for himself. He admired how Alexa had reconciled herself to the circumstances — to make the most of her time with Hugh and not to suffer from what was lacking. She had told him privately that she had been much influenced by advice from Tepee who had said ‘in my experience, if what you’ve got is good, hang on even if it’s not enough.’ She might, thought David to himself, be speaking for Aischa as well.
That afternoon, Alexa left them and the men returned to Hugh’s office which was understated in its comfort, the only ostentation being in the awesome view over the harbour. The relaxed ambience spoke volumes to David: despite the pressures of success, Hugh’s priority was to organise his life — not the other way around. Then came a further revelation. At Hugh’s request, David put some flesh on the bones of The Mansion House, of which his host already had a comprehensive understanding. David told him about early days, of dodgy deals and difficult people, tortured communications and testing travel. Hugh was fascinated and pressed him for more stories of journeys in Africa, reminding David of Ruth Kirchoff and how she would drag from him over those homely suppers in Highgate the details of faraway places. David spoke about their current position, why he and Martin were determined to stay with the formula which worked for them and in areas where they had proven expertise. Africa was their ballpark and in specific business groups. Mining, transport — but by land only: they didn’t venture into shipping and stayed away from airlines and cargo. Building, not houses or office blocks, but civil engineering, especially dams and bridges. Food production, but not agriculture, and finally, finance. This last and transport were their links to the past.
He finished by saying, ‘but the world moves on, doesn’t it Hugh. The Mansion House used to be all about trade from Europe into Africa with a bit of supply from the States, but nowadays our supply sources are increasingly from Asia and that’s why I’ve been spending time in this region. We need the knowledge and the contacts.’
‘Oh I do agree with you. I’m sure you’re right about your own business, David, and after all, the results speak for themselves. As to the principle, the same applies to us here. I’m myself preoccupied with how things will change when the Colony reverts to China, and that’s not far in the future. Actually, I’m using it as an opportunity to think things through to a completely different level and for exactly the reason you have expressed. The world will change, like it or not, and for me, the thrill of that lies in the challenge of what we can make of it. I confess to being a bit fixated by this part of the globe, but this is where I have most knowledge, and I do have a grand plan.’
‘Is it something you can speak about?’
Hugh removed his large spectacles and rubbed the sides of his nose.
‘Actually, yes, I think I can. After all,’ he smiled his lopsided grin, ‘you’re sort of family! More than that, I have a good instinct for whom I can trust and anyway, this is just stargazing for now. But I have started work on the project. You see, David, I think that there’s room for another sort of Singapore, especially if we assume that Hong Kong as we have known it will disappear under direct rule from China. So I have been wondering if I could talk the Australians into selling a chunk of the Northern Territory, not a huge acreage in view of how much they have there, but enough land and coastline in which to establish a brand new sovereign state. It would be principally a financial centre of course, but with a population drawn from around the globe and nurtured by a constitution which would give humanity a bit of a fresh start. As you say, we all need to move up a gear from time to time. But it’s grandiose notion, arrogant even, and I expect you to say it sounds barmy to you.’
‘I thi
nk it’s remarkable, Hugh, extraordinary.’
‘Polite words for mad is what you mean.’
‘I don’t. I meant exactly what I said. I’ve got my own wild vision, you see, and I’ve been thinking about it over the last twenty years. I want to take over a country in Africa. I want to win power, and then start doing things differently. I guess that makes us both mad megalomaniacs.’
Hugh sat up straight and gazed at him.
‘Really. Please go on.’
‘I’ll explain, but in essence I believe I’ve got the what and the why and the where. I don’t yet have the answer to how, and in particular, I don’t have the finance.’
‘Ah well,’ Hugh replied, ‘that is of course my strong suit. Would you like to tell me more?’
David delayed his departure from Hong Kong by twenty-four hours and Hugh cleared his diary. They passed another day and a good deal of the night in lively conversation which included Alexa for much of the time. He was surprised to sleep well on his flight, but his mind was buzzing again as his car bore him from Heathrow into Piccadilly. He entered The Mansion House and took the lift to his private staircase and on up the short flight to his apartment.
He had returned here so often from his forays overseas that he had fallen into a routine which had become a ritual. He dropped his elephant skin luggage in the small hallway and went into the sitting room which seemed to smile at him in welcome. He breathed in its pleasing features: the generous, rectangular shape of the room: the masculine, rather clubby furniture whose effect was redeemed by the greens and pale yellows of the decoration. He scented the fresh flowers in their squat, wide mouthed vase placed on the refectory table which he passed to take in the lofty view of Green Park from the two windows. He grunted in appreciation and turned to retrace his steps, this time ignoring the lift and walking down the broad staircase.
