A Treacherous Paradise (38 page)

Ana then took the bundles of banknotes out of her handbag. Each of the women received the equivalent of five years’ earnings. But to her great surprise, none of the women displayed the slightest sign of gratitude, despite the fact that they had never seen anywhere near as much money as that in their lives before.

‘You don’t need to stay on here now,’ she said. ‘Evening after evening, night after night. You can start living with your families again.’

Ana had been standing up while she spoke. Now she sat down on the deep red plush chair they had placed for her under the jacaranda tree. Nobody spoke. Ana was used to this silence, and knew that in the end she would no doubt be forced to break it herself. She took one of the bundles of banknotes and tried to give it to Felicia – but Felicia declined to accept it and started talking again instead. She had obviously rehearsed her speech, as if everybody knew already what Ana was going to say.

‘We shall go with you, Senhora,’ said Felicia. ‘No matter where you decide to open a new brothel, we shall go with you.’

‘But I have no intention ever again to run a brothel, not for as long as I live! I want to give you all money so that you can lead quite a different life. Besides, what would you do with your families if you were to accompany me?’

‘We’ll take them with us. We’ll go with you, no matter where you end up. As long as it’s not a country where there aren’t any men.’

‘That’s impossible. Don’t you understand what I’m telling you?’

Nobody spoke. Ana realized that Felicia hadn’t just been talking for herself: yet again she had been speaking on behalf of all the women assembled round the tree. The women really did believe that she was leaving in order to open up a new brothel somewhere else. And they wanted to go with her. She didn’t know whether to be touched or angry at what seemed to be their incredible naivety.

She thought: they want me to lead a general exodus to an unknown destination. No matter where it is, they see me as what Forsman was for Elin – a guarantee of the possibility of a better life.

A Magrinha had suddenly stood up and left the garden: now she returned, carrying a large lizard. Ana knew that it was called a
halakavuma
.

‘This lizard is very wise,’ said Felicia. ‘When people find a lizard like this one, they catch it and take it to their tribal chief. A
halakavuma
can always give the chieftain valuable advice. Senhora Ana has been listening for far too long to advice from unreliable people. That’s why we have tracked down this lizard, so that it can advise Senhora Ana about what is best for her to do. This lizard is like a wise old lady.’

The big, crocodile-like lizard was placed on Ana’s knee. Sticky slime was dripping from its mouth, its cold skin was wet, its eyes staring, its tongue darting in and out of its mouth. Carlos had jumped up on to the piano, and was staring at the lizard in disgust.

I’m living in a crazy world, Ana thought. Am I really expected to listen to a lizard in order to find out what I ought to do with my life?

She put the lizard down on the ground. It disappeared slowly behind the tree, swaying from side to side on apparently unsteady legs.

‘I shall listen to what it has to say,’ she said. ‘But not now. I’d rather hear from you than listen to a lizard.’

She stood up again, uncertain of what to say as she thought she had already said it all. She could see that she was surrounded by disappointment and surprise. The money she had produced for the women had not had the effect she had expected. What was crucial as far as they were concerned was Felicia’s words – that they wanted to accompany her to wherever she was going.

I don’t understand this, she thought. I’ll never understand it. But the time I’ve spent in this town has been characterized by my always being surrounded by white people claiming that it’s impossible to understand the blacks. I no longer see whatever it is I’m looking at. My eyes are constantly enveloped by this white mist.

She left the garden and walked past the empty sofas. The only person in the room was a man trying to light a half-smoked cigar. For some reason his presence aroused her fury. She picked up a cushion and hit him in the face with it, sending the cigar stump flying.

She stared at him without saying anything, shouted for Carlos, and left. When she came out into the street she screamed loudly, as if for a moment she had been transformed into a peacock in distress. A street cleaner stopped what he was doing and looked hard at her. She got into the car, but her chauffeur made no comment of surprise or admiration when he saw what she was wearing. The street cleaner resumed his work, as if nothing had happened.

When Julietta opened the door and stared at her, Ana couldn’t resist asking her what she thought of her get-up.

‘I’d love to wear those clothes myself,’ said Julietta.

‘You’ll never be allowed to,’ said Ana.

She went upstairs to her bedroom. She threw the clothes she’d been wearing into a laundry basket. The masquerade was over.

Late that evening Picard came to hand over the prints of the photograph he’d taken. Long after he had left, she sat contemplating the picture he had chosen in the light of her paraffin lamp.

Everybody was wearing a serious expression and looking straight at the camera. Apart from Carlos, who was laughing – as if he were a human being.

The only person in the picture who seemed frightened was Ana herself.

THE DAY AFTER
she had sat with the lizard on her knee, Ana was driven out to Pedro Pimenta’s farm for what she had decided would be her last visit. On the way there it occurred to her that this place, among the cages with the white sheepdogs and the ponds with the crocodiles, was where her journey had reached its fateful end. She had come this far, and now she just needed to travel back. When Isabel had been let down by her husband, Ana had finally become aware of all the deceit that surrounded her on all sides. An environment that seemed to be comprised of nothing but hypocrisy and a repulsive contempt for the people whose home this country actually was. It was as if the guests had eaten their fill of the meal to which they hadn’t even been invited. We are the uninvited guests, she thought. I no longer need to have any doubts about that, at least.

She had taken Carlos with her. It was for his sake that she returned to Pedro’s farm. Carlos would be able to live there in freedom. There were trees and open spaces, and in addition he would be surrounded by both white and black people, which is what he was used to. Moreover, beyond the crocodile pools was the extensive countryside he had originally come from – the endless wilderness covered in bushes that he could go back to if he so wished.

Ana had realized that Carlos was just as far away from home as she was herself. Perhaps there was also a river with cold, brown water running through the forests where he had been born? Even if nothing else unites us, there is no doubt a longing to go home that we have both done all in our power to resist. I’ve done so in my way, but I’ll never be able to understand how he’s managed it.

When they reached the farm Ana shuddered at the memory of what had happened there. Carlos climbed on to the car roof and looked around curiously, as if he suspected that something important was about to happen.

Ana Dolores came out on to the steps. It was the first time Ana had seen her when she was not wearing her nurse’s uniform, with the stiff nurse’s hat on her head. She was surprised: hadn’t Ana Dolores come here to nurse the sick Teresa?

The truth about the big changes that had taken place became immediately apparent. Ana Dolores bade her a low-key welcome, gave Carlos an odd look, then invited her guest to sit down on the veranda and have a cup of tea. When a maid came with a tea tray, it was obvious who ruled the roost in this household. Ana Dolores was not simply the nurse, she was also the mistress of the house. The black woman went down on one knee before Ana Dolores after having served the tea.

We have the same name, Ana thought. She is Ana Dolores and I am Ana Branca – but soon I shall return to the person I once was. When that happens, my name will revert to being Hanna. But perhaps other changes have taken place inside me. Things I can’t see, only feel or perhaps suspect? I know that what happened to me after Isabel’s death will be crucial for the rest of my life. Even if I don’t yet know how.

She asked Ana Dolores about Teresa.

‘She’ll probably never become healthy again,’ said Ana Dolores. ‘But the chances of her throwing herself into one of the crocodile pools have decreased. Her sick mind hasn’t completely eaten away what remains of her will to live.’

‘What does she say?’

‘Not a lot. She mutters away about things that happened when she was a little girl. Her life before Pedro Pimenta entered it.’

‘What about her and Pedro’s children? What will happen to them?’

‘Just now they are on a ship to Portugal. Neither of them will ever come back here. The boy was given a crocodile skin to take back home with him, the girl a piece of cloth like those that women here wrap around themselves. All I hope is that their memories of Africa fade away and eventually disappear altogether.’

‘And what about you, Ana Dolores?’

‘I live here.’

‘Looking after a woman who’s never going to get better?’

‘I also run the place. I sell dogs and harvest crocodile skins. I’ve grown tired of merely looking after people.’

Ana said nothing more, but waited for Ana Dolores to ask a few questions about Isabel’s death. Perhaps she might also be interested in knowing why Ana had made such a determined effort to help Isabel.

But Ana Dolores said nothing. She sat there with a smile on her face, gazing out over the farm she now ruled over. It occurred to Ana that this was the first time she had ever seen Ana Dolores smile.

A car approached in a cloud of dust, and pulled up outside the house.

‘Please excuse me,’ said Ana Dolores, standing up. ‘I have a visitor, a man from Kimberley who’s going to buy one of my dogs. It won’t take long. Wait here for me. Just ring the bell if you want any more tea.’

The man who stepped out of the car was wearing a pith helmet and seemed to be in a hurry. It seemed to Ana that he was one of those white men who had come to Africa to live a short life. He would die like a hunted animal – hunted down by himself.

She and Carlos went to look at the crocodiles. Carlos stayed a respectable distance away from the pools containing the biggest crocodiles, which were almost four metres long. There have never been any crocodiles in my river, Ana thought. But perhaps once upon a time Carlos lived by a river where crocodiles lurked just under the surface of the water. He knows about the threat they pose.

As she stood there watching the crocodiles, Ana suddenly noticed how things had changed since her last visit to the farm. She couldn’t put her finger on it at first, but then it dawned on her that what she was looking at was becoming more and more decrepit: things had deteriorated markedly since Pedro’s death. She noted the cracks in the concrete walls of the pools, the weeds growing up through the stone paths, the troughs of food beginning to rust, broken tools, rubbish that hadn’t been collected and carried away for burning. Wherever she looked there were signs of decay. There was also a smell of death on all sides.

This was a change that had taken place in a very short time.

As she returned to the house she saw more and more signs of decay and decadence. The white sheepdogs in their kennels were not as well cared for as they had been in the past. Pedro Pimenta’s farm was wasting away. When he and Isabel died, what they had built up together had immediately started to crumble away.

Ana Dolores had gone into the house with her customer. Ana sat down on the veranda and Carlos climbed up on to an abandoned dovecote. Ana suddenly had the feeling that she wasn’t alone. When she turned to look she discovered Teresa standing at the point where the veranda branched off along the side of the house. She was very pale, and so thin that she was almost unrecognizable. At first Ana wasn’t sure if it really was Teresa. She was uncertain what to do, but stood up and said hello. Teresa did not reply, but she hurried over and stood close by Ana. She smelled strongly of some oily perfume or other. Ana could see that the roots of her hair were caked in dirt and grease.

‘Were you also married to my husband?’ Teresa asked.

‘No.’

‘I’m sure you were married to my husband. You used to have red hair, but then you had it dyed.’

‘I’ve never had red hair, and I’ve never been married to Pedro.’

Teresa suddenly gave Ana a powerful slap in the face. It was so unexpected that the pain in her cheek and the surprise at being hit struck her dumb.

‘As you know what my husband is called you must have been married to him.’

Teresa turned round and hurried away. Then she suddenly turned round and started to come back. Ana braced herself for another smack, but Teresa turned yet again and disappeared behind the gable end of the house, and started shrieking.

Ana Dolores came running on to the veranda.

‘Where is she?’

Ana pointed. Ana Dolores hurried along the veranda and followed it behind the gable end. When she came back she was holding Teresa by the arm. It was as if she were dragging along a rag doll. They both disappeared into the house.

The man in the pith helmet left with his newly purchased white sheepdog. He didn’t even seem to have noticed Teresa’s presence. Ana Dolores came back again. Ana wondered what she had done in order to calm Teresa down, but she didn’t ask.

‘I’ve come here because there’s something I want you to do,’ said Ana.

She pointed at Carlos, who was sitting on the abandoned dovecote, scratching his fur absent-mindedly. He didn’t seem to have noticed Teresa’s outburst either, something that surprised Ana. Carlos always tried to protect her by screeching and kicking up a row. But not this time.

‘I’m about to leave Lourenço Marques,’ she said, ‘and I can’t take Carlos with me. I thought I would ask if he could stay here on the farm. As long as he gets food and is allowed to do what he wants to do, he’s very calm and no trouble. One day he might well decide to go back to the forest again. He’d be able to do that from here.’