The Account

by Roderick Mann

  ‘It’s kind of you to invite me,’ Julia said, bewildered by the greeting. ‘This must be a difficult time for you.’

  She shifted her position on the sofa. The seat was very soft and she found herself sitting several inches lower than Grace Brand. She tried to raise herself up a little.

  ‘Now. First things first. How do you like your tea? Milk and sugar?’

  ‘Please.’

  Grace Brand poured the tea and handed her a cup. She smiled pleasantly. ‘You seem a little nervous, my dear. Please don’t be. I simply felt that as you were here in town it would be foolish not to meet. After all, we have Robert in common and I know you must have been as devastated as I was by his death.’

  ‘I didn’t realize –’

  ‘That I knew about you and Robert? Come now, Julia; let’s not be naïve. I am not exactly isolated here, you know.’

  ‘I know that. It’s just that –’

  ‘I suppose I should resent you,’ Grace Brand went on. ‘But I don’t. Though I am a trifle jealous that it was you and not I who was with him at the end.’ She looked straight at Julia. ‘You were with him, of course?’

  Julia nodded.

  ‘What exactly were the circumstances?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Julia put down her cup.

  ‘Well, Robert was naked in his suite when he died. Obviously you weren’t discussing the relative merits of Keats and Shelley.’

  Julia flushed. ‘I don’t think –’

  ‘He was fucking you, wasn’t he?’

  Julia stiffened. ‘Really, Mrs Brand –’

  ‘Please, call me Grace. I do so much want us to be friends. I get quite lonely down here. There are so few worthwhile people to talk to.’ She smiled again.

  Julia tried to sit up higher. ‘Mrs Brand, I’d like to make something perfectly clear. I became involved with Robert only because I understood your marriage was over.’

  ‘He told you that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I expect he also told you I’d had a breakdown and the doctors told him to lock me up?’

  ‘He did say –’

  ‘That was his usual line. He used it with all his mistresses. It must have been quite effective. It got them on their backs in no time –’ She broke off. ‘Is the tea to your taste?’

  ‘Mrs Brand –’

  ‘Grace, please.’

  ‘Are you saying Robert lied about your marriage?’

  ‘Did I say that?’

  ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘Then I’ll thank you not to put words in my mouth.’

  Julia finished her tea. ‘I don’t blame you for feeling bitter about me, Mrs Brand. But why invite me –’

  ‘Bitter? My dear Julia, I am not bitter at all. You are right about our marriage. Robert and I were about as far apart as it’s possible to be while still maintaining a relationship.’

  ‘Then I don’t see –’

  ‘What don’t you see, Julia?’

  ‘Why you didn’t get a divorce? Robert told me you refused to consider it.’

  ‘Oh come now.’ Grace Brand gave a sardonic laugh.

  ‘It’s not true?’

  ‘Of course not. Had he ever asked me for a divorce he could have had it at any time. I am financially secure. I have this house. Since he was never here what possible difference could it have made?’

  ‘He told me your financial affairs were so interwoven –’

  ‘That at least was true. They were. But that could all have been sorted out by the lawyers. No, the truth is Robert remained married to me because it suited him to do so. That way he could never be trapped by his little whores. Clearly he told you a different story.’

  ‘Completely.’

  ‘You heard how I made his life hell. I’m sure you lapped it up. Why wouldn’t you? You were so busy getting fucked you didn’t want to feel any guilt.’ She smiled. ‘Am I right?’

  Julia bristled. ‘Are you telling me your husband was a liar?’

  ‘My husband, Julia, and your lover. Yes, that’s what I’m telling you. He was a bloody liar. His whole life was a lie.’

  ‘It’s hard to believe –’

  ‘Is it? Surely you’re not that goddamn stupid?’

  Julia got to her feet. She wished she had never come. ‘Mrs Brand, there seems little point in continuing this conversation.’

  ‘Julia. Don’t be so sensitive. We are both mature women. Sit down for heaven’s sake.’

  Reluctantly Julia sank back on the sofa. ‘Mrs Brand, rightly or wrongly I had a relationship with your husband. I loved him very much.’

  ‘Are we being totally frank with each other, Julia?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then why don’t you admit that Robert told you I was crazy?’

  ‘He never put it like that.’

  ‘How did the bastard put it? Did he say I was schizophrenic?’

  ‘He said you were a very unhappy woman who wanted to make him unhappy too.’

  ‘He was such a liar.’

  Julia’s eyes narrowed. ‘If you were so far apart, Mrs Brand, why wouldn’t you give him his freedom to marry Jane Summerwood?’

  Grace Brand’s face seemed to contort. ‘Now just a minute. Just one goddamn minute. You’re not going to bring that whore’s name up in this house. Understand? That I won’t have. That cocksucking little bitch. He got her pregnant, did you know that? Then came whining to me for help. Robert Brand never knew the meaning of love. His idea of loving a woman was to give her some trinket from Cartier, screw her stupid and then, when things went too far, come to me. You know what he said? “The bitch is getting serious, Grace. I’ve got to get out of it.” We were sitting in this very room; he was where you are now. So I got him out of it.’

  A small nerve had begun to beat in Julia’s throat. The room was absolutely still.

  ‘Please, Mrs Brand, be serious –’

  ‘I do wish you’d call me Grace.’

  ‘This conversation is –’

  ‘Is what, Julia?’ Grace Brand leaned forward.

  Julia realized the back of her dress was soaked in perspiration. ‘You don’t really expect me to believe you were responsible for Jane Summerwood’s death?’

  ‘You can believe any goddamn thing you like.’ Grace Brand laughed. ‘Who did you suppose killed the little bitch? Some tramp in the park? Robert wanted out of it. I got him out of it. What about some more tea?’

  Julia shook her head, momentarily too numbed to speak. I’ve got to get out of here, she thought desperately. This woman is truly insane.

  ‘Mrs Brand – Grace – what you’ve told me is all very interesting –’

  ‘I’m glad. I didn’t want you to leave Acapulco without hearing my point of view. Otherwise you might have spent the rest of your life pining for Robert and not realizing what a lying, blackhearted shit he really was.’

  ‘I don’t - ’

  ‘What did he give you from Cartier, Julia?’

  She’s crazy, Julia thought; crazy and dangerous. Yet so much of what she says is true.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘He gave you a trinket, surely? You can tell me. We’re friends now, Julia. Where did it come from? Bulgari, Van Cleef?’

  ‘He gave me a necklace.’

  ‘Worth a lot, was it? He was always generous with his mistresses. Too well brought up to leave the money on the dressing-table after he’d fucked you.’

  Julia got to her feet. ‘I have to go now.’

  ‘But you have not finished your tea,’ Grace Brand said. ‘And you haven’t seen the house.’ She rose.

  Julia stood still. Her heart was beating wildly. ‘Perhaps some of the things you have said about Robert are true,’ she said. ‘I have no way of knowing. But one thing I realize he did not lie about. He said you were not well. You don’t have to be a psychiatrist to see that he was right.’

  Grace Brand’s eyes seemed to bulge. Julia brushed past her and ran out and up the steps to the waiting taxi. She was
drenched in perspiration. The woman was truly mad. Everything Robert said about her was true. She was terrifying.

  As the taxi rattled along the bumpy road she slumped against the worn, cracked seat feeling bruised and shaken. Never in her life had she been through anything like that. She realized her hands were shaking and she was terribly afraid. For herself; for her unborn child. What could that woman not do?

  Julia took a mirror from her handbag and studied her face. She looked ghastly, pale and wild-eyed. She tried to calm herself, to tell herself that the next day she would be on her way to London and safety. But was there safety even there? What about Jane Summerwood? But Grace Brand’s boast that she’d had her killed was surely nonsense, the ravings of an unstable woman. She might be vicious and vindictive but what could she do to someone 7,000 miles away? The idea was absurd, as absurd as her claim that Brand had never wanted a divorce. Julia knew that couldn’t be true. She could not have been that wrong about Robert Brand. Would she ever know the truth about him? No, she thought; not now.

  Then, as the taxi turned on to the main road and careered up the hill towards the hotel she remembered that long ago conversation with Brand when he had talked about Acapulco. ‘There are a couple whose company I enjoy. One is a fisherman; the other a Polish sculptor …’ What was the sculptor’s name? She could not remember. But how many Polish sculptors could there be living in Acapulco?

  ‘I need your help,’ Julia said to the duty receptionist. ‘There’s a Polish sculptor living here …’

  ‘Voytek,’ the receptionist said. ‘Up the mountain. Voytek Konopka.’

  ‘That’s it. That’s the name. How can I find him?’

  ‘Everyone knows Voytek.’ He picked up a telephone directory from the desk and leafed through it. ‘You want me to call him?’

  ‘Please.’

  He dialled the number, yelled something in Spanish and handed Julia the receiver.

  ‘Mr Konopka, please.’

  ‘This is Voytek.’

  The line was very faint. She raised her voice. ‘My name is Julia Lang. I was a friend of Robert Brand.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Here in Acapulco. I was wondering if I might see you?’

  ‘Come now. Tell the taxi driver my name. He will know how to find me.’ He hung up.

  Chapter 30

  As the taxi breasted the top of the mountain it turned sharply up a rough road and came to a stop beside a long white wall. At the end was a small gate.

  ‘Voytek,’ the driver said pointing to the gate.

  ‘Come back for me in one hour.’ Julia pointed to the dial on her watch.

  ‘Si, si. One hour.’ The driver nodded. He was the same man who had taken her to the Brand house.

  Julia opened the gate and made her way up a flight of stone steps leading to a studio perched atop the hill. On either side of the steps were metal designs and sculptures, some suspended on the wall, some lying on the ground. At the top was a carved wooden door set on wrought-iron hinges. It was half open. She hesitated a moment, wondering whether to enter.

  ‘Come in. Come in.’

  A moment later she was confronted by a giant of a man, heavily bearded, his grey hair tousled. He was wearing a smudged white shirt and torn jeans. He was barefoot.

  ‘You are Julia. The friend of my friend.’

  Julia smiled uncertainly. ‘I’m not interrupting anything?’

  ‘Some interruptions are welcome.’ He beamed.

  ‘It’s just … I need to talk to you. I’ve just had the most terrible experience. I …’

  He took her arm and led her through the cluttered studio to a wide terrace with a view of the whole sweep of Acapulco Bay. ‘You see,’ Voytek said. ‘A room with a view.’ He chuckled. ‘You like red wine?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Good. We will relax and watch the sun go down.’ He gestured towards an iron table on which stood two glasses and a bottle. ‘I sit here every evening. After a long day in the studio and at the foundry it cleanses my soul.’ He poured a generous glass for both of them. Sitting down heavily he turned to her. ‘So,’ he said, ‘here you are. Robert’s Julia …’

  ‘You knew about me then?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I knew about you. Robert talked to me often.’

  ‘That makes it easier,’ Julia said. ‘I wanted … I needed to talk to someone about him.’

  The big Pole spread wide his hands. ‘I have all evening. First, though, calm yourself. Take in this beauty. Enjoy your wine.’

  Julia took a sip of wine. She looked down the mountain. ‘It is lovely here,’ she said.

  ‘As long as you look at it from this height,’ he said. ‘Down there the bay is polluted. Your first trip?’

  She nodded. ‘A conference.’ She told him about the TTRA meeting.

  ‘Something happened at this conference to upset you?’

  ‘No. It was something else.’ She took another sip of wine. ‘You know Grace Brand well?’

  His mouth tightened perceptibly. ‘I know her.’

  ‘I have just come from the most awful meeting with her.’

  Voytek frowned. ‘You went to see Grace? Why would you do that?’

  ‘She invited me. She sent a note to the hotel asking me to tea.’

  He looked bewildered. ‘I don’t understand. How did she know about you?’

  ‘I don’t know. But she knew. And she knew where to find me.’

  ‘It doesn’t make sense.’ He shook his head. ‘Robert never mentioned your name to her.’

  ‘She has a source somewhere,’ Julia said.

  Voytek grunted. ‘You should have ignored the invitation.’

  ‘I know that now. I was stupid to go.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Julia felt some of her earlier panic subsiding. She felt safe sitting with this man. Safe and, in a curious way, protected. ‘It was what was said. It was frightening. She was terrible about Robert. She called him a wicked liar. She must have hated him.’

  Voytek looked at her sympathetically. ‘I know how she can be. Totally irrational. She is not well, you know?’

  ‘I realize that.’

  ‘Everything changed after her breakdown.’

  ‘You knew her before, then?’

  ‘From the time I first arrived here. Twenty-five years ago. She invited me to one of their dinner parties. It amused Robert that I turned up in my old clothes: I had been working late in the foundry downtown and had no time to come back here to change. The other guests were all in their finery: Italian slacks and shirts; Gucci loafers. Robert and I became immediate friends.’

  ‘But not Grace?’

  ‘I am not the kind of man she would bother cultivating.’

  ‘She said some unbelievable things,’ Julia went on. ‘She told me Robert never really wanted a divorce; that he preferred to stay married to her.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous. Robert wanted desperately to be free of her but their finances were so entangled it was impossible.’ He paused for a moment. ‘There was something else …’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I sensed – I know it sounds absurd – I sensed that in some way he was afraid of her. It was almost as if she knew something about him; some secret from his past.’

  ‘You think that’s possible?’

  ‘How do I know? Robert never discussed the past with me. He was one of the most private men I’ve ever known. The thought of being in the public eye horrified him.’

  ‘He told me that was the only way he could avoid being pestered,’ Julia said.

  ‘I have my own theory,’ Voytek said. ‘Robert liked to cultivate the myth that he was a self-made millionaire. The truth is he inherited a fortune from his father. I think he felt that detracted from his reputation as a great businessman. So he never talked about his early days.’

  ‘He told me he’d inherited a fortune. But also that he’d multiplied it.’

  ‘He did. He was incredible. He had a brilliant mind
. I was with him once in Paris at an Industrial Conference. He walked into the room where some of Europe’s most important industrialists were assembled; big men from Fiat and Siemens, Bayer and ICI. When Robert arrived they all fell silent and paid attention. They knew they had something to learn from him.’

  The idea of this dishevelled giant sitting down with a group of immaculately dressed European industrialists made Julia smile. Voytek smiled too.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he said. ‘I sat at the back.’ He chuckled. ‘I used to tease Robert, you know; tell him he was a typical American barbarian only interested in making money. But the truth is he was a very cultivated man, knowledgeable about art.’

  ‘I discovered that,’ Julia said.

  ‘And he’d read an extraordinary amount. He was an intellectual, really. He’d not only read Plato and Rousseau but could quote from them at will. Not too many American businessmen can do that. One of his chief criticisms of his own country was that there are no role models for the cultivated man; the only thing that counts in the US is celebrity –’ He broke off, pointing. ‘Look.’ The sun had just begun to dip beyond the horizon, flooding the sky with a great aura of orange light.

  ‘It’s stunning.’

  ‘I have been many places,’ he said, ‘but I have never seen sunsets like these.’ He watched for a moment longer, absorbed by the sight.

  Julia turned to him. ‘When Robert did come here, did he and Grace make an effort to get along?’

  ‘He didn’t come often. He never liked Acapulco, you see. He was only here for tax reasons. Did they try to get along? She was so unpredictable it was impossible. You could never tell how she was going to behave. At one dinner party I attended they had the chairman of Bancomer, one of our biggest banks. It was important for Robert. Halfway through dinner Robert and this man began discussing a joint project. Grace, who’d had too much to drink – a not unusual occurrence – suddenly snapped: “If you two are going to bore the rest of us talking about money, I’m leaving the table. Hasn’t anyone here read a book, or seen a play, or done anything remotely interesting?” Everyone was embarrassed. They felt terrible for Robert. But it was always like that. She would tear people to shreds, call them posturing idiots and mealy-mouthed mediocrities, people who were frequent guests at her house. She even rips into that man she sleeps with now and again.’