all very
cheerful, but with our new acquaintance’s next words I crossed some kind of
threshold: “I’ve heard our friend is being well looked after, but if you want
to know more you’ll need to speak to Gato.”
Carlos wouldn’t say any more about this
Gato, but I could see no harm in accepting another drink – hopefully in a
quieter setting – from someone else who thought we were heroes. I said that
would be great and assumed Steve had done the same.
At the first chance, I left the heat and
noise of the building behind and stood beside the dark and empty shuttle-bus. I
climbed inside the moment the door was opened, and occupied an aisle seat until
Steve appeared and I slid across to the window. The journey back to the city
passed in a blur, but three things stand out in memory. The first is the smell
of sweat and hormones that filled the vehicle as the passengers boarded; the
second is the sight of Steve staring straight ahead throughout the journey as
if I wasn’t there; the third and most vivid is the statue of Jesus bathed in
floodlights on top of Monte Urgull—distant but clearly visible across the curve
of the bay as we reached the crest of Igeldo. His arm seemed outstretched
directly towards me, and I remember thinking about the symbolism as we began our
final descent into the city. I couldn’t decide whether it represented a warning
or a summons. Perhaps it was both. But that night nobody was listening, least
of all myself.
JACK
“So there were just the two of you involved at this point,” commented
Miguel, flicking back through his notes. “The girl you mentioned earlier, Gina,
does she have any further involvement?”
“Not directly. Nothing that would have a
bearing, I think.”
“But the guy, Steve, he was up to his neck
in this business. What’s he doing now?”
“No idea. We haven’t stayed in touch.
There was an atmosphere between us by this time, and we hardly said another
word to each other right up to the time we graduated. I blamed him for dragging
me into Txako’s affairs in the first place, and for chickening out when things
started to get weird. And I imagine he blamed me for not knowing when to quit,
although he can’t have any idea just how dangerous things got. The last I
heard, he was a successful stand-up comedian in Manchester. Very political. Not
very funny.”
“And did he have a role in the way things
developed from this point?”
“No. We carried on sharing lodgings until college
finished at the end of June, but as far as possible we avoided each other.”
“So at this stage the actors are you, a
casual acquaintance named Pablo, and a third person named Carlos to whom Pablo introduced
you in a nightclub. Then there’s a fourth man called Gato whom Carlos wants you
to meet. Do any of these people take on a significant role in your story?”
“Yes and no,” answered Jack after a
moment’s thought. “It’s complicated. Can I just tell it the way it happened? This
was a difficult time and it was forty years ago. You can see clearly enough what
you’re putting me through, and yet you keep interrupting the flow with
questions that could easily wait for a natural break. If you’re not careful I’m
going to lose the thread.”
JAMES
I’d taken quite a liking to Carlos during our few minutes together at
Kuba, but over the next few days I was too concerned about Steve’s state of
mind to give any thought to him or to the mysterious Gato. Then, as I emerged
from college one afternoon, I was pleased to see my new friend waiting for me a
little way along the road. He was slouching on a low wall looking more
suspicious than he can possibly have imagined, with his chin tucked into his
chest, his upper face obscured by mirrored sunglasses and a shapeless hat pulled
low over his forehead.
Amused by his appearance, I clapped him on
the back and began to ask how he was doing, but he cut me off and gave me some
brief but unsettling instructions: “Don’t talk,
cheerful, but with our new acquaintance’s next words I crossed some kind of
threshold: “I’ve heard our friend is being well looked after, but if you want
to know more you’ll need to speak to Gato.”
Carlos wouldn’t say any more about this
Gato, but I could see no harm in accepting another drink – hopefully in a
quieter setting – from someone else who thought we were heroes. I said that
would be great and assumed Steve had done the same.
At the first chance, I left the heat and
noise of the building behind and stood beside the dark and empty shuttle-bus. I
climbed inside the moment the door was opened, and occupied an aisle seat until
Steve appeared and I slid across to the window. The journey back to the city
passed in a blur, but three things stand out in memory. The first is the smell
of sweat and hormones that filled the vehicle as the passengers boarded; the
second is the sight of Steve staring straight ahead throughout the journey as
if I wasn’t there; the third and most vivid is the statue of Jesus bathed in
floodlights on top of Monte Urgull—distant but clearly visible across the curve
of the bay as we reached the crest of Igeldo. His arm seemed outstretched
directly towards me, and I remember thinking about the symbolism as we began our
final descent into the city. I couldn’t decide whether it represented a warning
or a summons. Perhaps it was both. But that night nobody was listening, least
of all myself.
JACK
“So there were just the two of you involved at this point,” commented
Miguel, flicking back through his notes. “The girl you mentioned earlier, Gina,
does she have any further involvement?”
“Not directly. Nothing that would have a
bearing, I think.”
“But the guy, Steve, he was up to his neck
in this business. What’s he doing now?”
“No idea. We haven’t stayed in touch.
There was an atmosphere between us by this time, and we hardly said another
word to each other right up to the time we graduated. I blamed him for dragging
me into Txako’s affairs in the first place, and for chickening out when things
started to get weird. And I imagine he blamed me for not knowing when to quit,
although he can’t have any idea just how dangerous things got. The last I
heard, he was a successful stand-up comedian in Manchester. Very political. Not
very funny.”
“And did he have a role in the way things
developed from this point?”
“No. We carried on sharing lodgings until college
finished at the end of June, but as far as possible we avoided each other.”
“So at this stage the actors are you, a
casual acquaintance named Pablo, and a third person named Carlos to whom Pablo introduced
you in a nightclub. Then there’s a fourth man called Gato whom Carlos wants you
to meet. Do any of these people take on a significant role in your story?”
“Yes and no,” answered Jack after a
moment’s thought. “It’s complicated. Can I just tell it the way it happened? This
was a difficult time and it was forty years ago. You can see clearly enough what
you’re putting me through, and yet you keep interrupting the flow with
questions that could easily wait for a natural break. If you’re not careful I’m
going to lose the thread.”
JAMES
I’d taken quite a liking to Carlos during our few minutes together at
Kuba, but over the next few days I was too concerned about Steve’s state of
mind to give any thought to him or to the mysterious Gato. Then, as I emerged
from college one afternoon, I was pleased to see my new friend waiting for me a
little way along the road. He was slouching on a low wall looking more
suspicious than he can possibly have imagined, with his chin tucked into his
chest, his upper face obscured by mirrored sunglasses and a shapeless hat pulled
low over his forehead.
Amused by his appearance, I clapped him on
the back and began to ask how he was doing, but he cut me off and gave me some
brief but unsettling instructions: “Don’t talk,
Similar Books
