Carnival
.
Jonathan Parker is a principal character in the film, All Things to All Men AKA The Deadly Game
This story is the third I have written about him and the second involving his Nemesis, Alys Fitzgerald.
I did not create Parker. I only have fun with him for a while.
The song is the old classic :_
BRAZIL
.
Brazil, where hearts were entertaining June
We stood beneath an amber moon
And softly murmured
"Someday soon, we'll kiss and clIng together"
Then, tomorrow was another day
The mornin' found me miles away with still a million things to say
Now, when twilight dims the sky above, recallin' thrills of our love
There's one thing, I'm certain of, return, I will to ol' Brazil
Then, tomorrow was another day
The mornin' found me miles away with still a million things to say
Now, when twilight dims the sky above, recallin' thrills of our love
There's one thing that I'm certain of, return I will, to ol' Brazil
.
.
CARNIVAL
The captain 's voice announced that we would be landing in Rio in thirty minutes. I shifted to ease the stiffness of the eleven hour flight and flipped up the blind of the window next to me. The bright clear sky of the early morning glistened on the wing and stretched away.
A change in the note of the engines and we began to slide down out of the blue through the foamy white clouds.
Home!
I hadn't been home for two years.
I would rather not think about the last time I had been in Rio.
God! What a fiasco!
Sending a OACU team to Brazil had hit a mighty chunk out of the Met's budget.
And with no result!
A carefully planned operation had gone completely wrong and I had gone back to London to file my report; my carefully edited report.
I didn't lie.
Just left some unnecessary things out.
My team had backed me in what they knew. But they knew only half of what had happened; and the Commissioner even less. He had accepted it, though admittedly a little frostily.
Only I knew .
Me! And Parker!
Jonathan Parker .
The cop who was the leader of the unacknowledged team working behind scenes for the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police and the Attorney General. A skilled negotiator between them on one hand and the crime lords of the London gangs on the other, he had moved easily between them. He had broken up criminal gangs by fair means or foul and sent their Barons to jail. Smart , clever, discreet, devious , he could have got to the top of his profession but, totally amoral, he had bent the rules to suit himself.
And there is a very fine line between a criminal and a policeman.
He had trod that narrow tightrope and used it to fund his high living, his love of fast cars, and women.
A womaniser. Women, or rather one woman in particular, had been his downfall. He had played around with the girlfriend of a Turkish gang lord who had wanted money or promised him some ballistic therapy. Parker couldn't raise all the money, so he had took what he had together with the proceeds of a gang's job and fled from London.
He had turned up in Rio.
I had led the team that the Overseas Anti-Corruption Unit had sent to bring him to justice.
And I had failed!
I had not been back to Rio since.
Why should I?
He had gone.
But I was waiting.
Waiting for a word, a whisper that would tell me where he might be.
I was waiting and I would get him.
I am just waiting for him to surface; I will get him extradited back to the UK to stand trial.
And he will go down for a long stretch.
It's nothing to do with getting my own back about it .
There's nothing vindictive about it.
It's my job.
Just doing my job
And he …
Yeah, it was my idea, the honey trap to make a positive identification. It did work. I did identify him but the arrest ... yes, he did make a fool out of me .
In front of my team.
.
It could have worked .
It should have.
I brooded, staring at the back of the seat in front of me.
Miles away, until the little bell tinged and the seat belt sign flashed telling me to buckle it, as we would be landing shortly at Galeao airport.
.
I had thrown myself into my work to redeem myself in my seniors' eyes and to forget the silly, stupid, self -indulgent actions which had caused the failure of the Rio manoeuvre.
I have seen little of my parents over the past two years. A couple of days here and there, when they came to London although we Skyped each other almost every day. So when I felt I needed a break from a grey February London to grab some sun, they were delighted .
" February ! Come for the Carnaval !"
Mardi Gras !
I think I was twenty two, the last time I was in Rio for the Carnival.
Almost a week of partying and dancing, of fun and laughter culminating in the parade of exotic dancers, music, costumes and floats, that was Mardi Gras.
" We'll make up a party for the Magic Ball and a box for the Mardi Gras parade. We'll have a couple of dinner parties too." they said.
My mother was so delighted and excited that I felt guilty that I had not made the effort to come home sooner.
.
The Captain's voice broke in.
"We have landed in Rio. Please do not unbuckle your belts or leave your seats until instructed to do so."
I had no need to take part in the stampede to exit the plane. With my Brazilian national passport and hand luggage only, I would be one of the first through.
I only took an overnight bag when I flew home. I had more than enough clothes in my apartment in Rio; any way what I wore in London was totally different from what I wore in Rio.
London grunge to Rio OTT elegance and immaculate grooming.
.
As I half expected, Mamma and Daddy were waiting beyond Arrivals and we went out into the humid scented air that could only be Rio.
"We were in town so we thought we would pick you up."
Really!
If they were in town today, it was because they had driven in yesterday on purpose.
They had driven eighty miles to the airport, when I could easily have got a cab from the airport and be at my apartment in Rio in twenty minutes.
My parents had bought me the apartment in Rio when I was eighteen . It was usually shut up these days while I was in London.
" We thought you would want to stay in town, catch up with everyone , so we thought we would pop in and air the place, dust around and make up the bed for you."
I could barely conceal my smile.
What she meant was that she had brought Angelica or Carmelita into town to do it. The idea of my chic , elegant mother with her immaculately manicured nails doing even the lightest of housework amused me, though I must admit I had never done any myself until I went to London.
Over lunch, she said, "We've made up a table for the Magic Ball."
Traditionally on Saturday night, this is the grandest, most glamorous ball of the week .
" We've asked the Souzas and the Olivieras, Maria and Miguel, and David; and the three of us."
I had known the Souzas and the Oliveiras all my life and Maria is my cousin, Miguel her husband.
" David? David? Who is David?"
"David, David Hunter! You know! We've told you about him, surely? He bought the Cruz place, two- three years ago. He's a friend of Daddy's from the Yacht club."
" Mmm," Daddy agreed. "He crewed for me for a while until his own was delivered. Oh, Alys! You should see it! A Nicholson 33."
My father has sailed all his life and is an interclub offshore racing enthusiast. I had crewed for him until I left to go to Uni.
"Perhaps you could crew for him one day. I'll ask him." Mamma said.
" Mamma, you are not matchmaking again?"
"No! But what if I am?" She pouted prettily. "Is it so unreasonable to want to see my only daughter married ? To be a grandmother?"
My mother had married my father when she was seventeen and he twenty five, and they were still in love almost thirty five years later. So maybe not unreasonable.
I vaguely remembered them talking about David Hunter, he was on several charity committees with Daddy and was a part of their social circle.
"Mamma! " I sighed cynically. " I suppose he's another nerd you've found for me."
"Not at all! He's very charming, presentable too, older than you, though."
I dismissed him from my mind.
I yawned. I always slept badly on overnight flights.
"Thanks for the lunch but I need some sleep. Jet lag is catching up on me."
I felt a little mean, shuffling them off. I did need some sleep but the Rio way of life and particularly Mamma's cosseting and fussing over me needed easing back into.
Three years at Uni and eleven as a serving officer of the London Metropolitan police had changed me out of Mamma's recognition, had she known ii.
Me ?
Maria Elena Alessandrina Fitzgerald y Costa, more commonly known as Alys, age thirty three, five foot eight , long, curly red hair, dark eyes, unmarried to my mother's constant regret, the doted on only child of wealthy society parents, Elena and Gavin Fitzgerald. My Brazilian mother and my British father gave me dual nationality and made me bi-lingual.
Educated at the British International School in Rio, I read Law and Economics at the LSE. A Recruitment drive by the Metropolitan Police while I was at Uni showed me a use for my intelligence and given me a purpose and drive in life.
I have never regretted it.
.
After a few hours sleep, I had a shower, looked through my clothes and phoned around old friends.
The legendary Magic Ball!
What can I say about it!
Held in the Copacabana Palace Hotel, it is simply the swankiest of all the balls held during Mardi Gras week. A buffet dinner and dancing in each of the Copa's five ballrooms.
Everyone would be there ! Everyone who is anyone from the five continents, oozing money, glamour and sophistication, dripping sparklies, all out to have a fabulous time.
Yes ! Saturday and I was ready .
I had chosen my de la Renta ball gown, bought a few years ago, off the shoulder and full skirted. Very Scarlett O'Hara. A rich glowing wine, I had been doubtful of the colour with my hair but Oscar had assured Mama and me it would flatter. And Oscar had been right.
Daddy is a long standing member of the committee which organises the Magic ball and so always had one of the best tables.
They collected me on their way.
It is several years now since I had been to a Magic Ball. There were so many people to speak to so when we arrived at our table, the rest of our party were already there.
I hugged my cousin Maria and her husband and air kissed the Olivieras and Souzas. Daddy was chatting to another guest and Mamma touched his arm.
" David? "
He swung around. Mocking green eyes met mine.
"Darling, this is David, David Hunter." She spoke in English.
"We've met ." I said flatly.
"I don't think so... " he slowly ran his eyes over me. "I'm sure I would have remembered."
I ignored the hand he held out.
I knew him and he knew it.
Jonathan Fucking Parker .
I had been waiting for him to surface elsewhere and he had been here in Rio, all the time! Burrowing into Rio society. Cultivating my parents and friends.
His eyes held mine, guarded, watchful, sardonic.
A tiny lift of his eyebrow and a side glance at my parents. He was right, of course! There was no way I would humiliate my parents with a scene. I nodded slightly and sat down across the table from him, seething.
Our conversation was desultory. Cold and flat on my part. Amused and mocking on his .
"Have you lived here long, Mr. er ... Hunter?"
"About two years now."
"My parents tell me you bought the Cruz place."
"La Casa Serena, yes. You know it?"
"Yes, of course."
A pause.
"What do you do, Mr. um ... Hunter?"
"This and that, mostly finance, investments."
" I hope it's all legal."
"Ah yes! Your parents tell me you are a policewoman. I should never have thought it."
"Why not?" I said coolly. His glance flickered over me but he just smiled.
The conversation at the table was in English, this was down to the exquisite courtesy of the company.
I wanted to prick his enormous self - assurance.
" How is your Portuguese, Mr. Ah ... Hunter?"
His amused glance said he remembered that first night.
"I get by now, though it was hard at first."
" Oh David, you're very good." my cousin put in.
A little deprecating nod.
"I work at it but it can slip. I do have problems, mostly in remembering numbers. The sixties are the worst. I don't know why. I can get so far ... Sixty seven, sixty eight... And then..." a little flip of his hand , he shrugged smilingly.
"Sessentae novo!" everyone said.
" Yeah! Somehow, I tend to slip into the French." He smiled at me, a winner's smile.
They may not have known what he was referring to but I did.
Bastard!
A Buffet dinner is part of the Magic ball; the men wait on the ladies, serving them. He waited on me with immaculate courtesy and I treated him the same.
The dancing came later. There was no way I was going to dance with the sod so, as soon as the meal was over, I excused myself to the cloakroom with the other ladies and just never went back.
.
I was up early considering the time I got to bed. I was drying myself after my shower when the doorbell rang .
it rang again.
And again.
I pulled on my bathrobe and went to answer it, my hair wet, loose and tangled and my face damp and shiny.
"God ! All right, all right !" I grumbled loud enough for whoever it was to hear.
I pulled the door open. Stunned, I stared at him and tried to slam the door .
Too late! He had his foot in the door. His forearm against the door, he leant forward, shifting his weight.
Classic police move.
He pushed harder and he was in and I was caged between his hands against the wall.
He straightened up and shut the door.
" Your mother has kindly asked me to dinner tonight and as I am not sure of the road, especially at night, she thought you might give me a lift. As it is on your way."
" Did no-one think to ask me? And couldn't you have phoned?"
" Is that a no? Would you like to be the one to tell her so? "
My sweet gentle mother with a backbone of steel and a will of iron, always expected her every wish to be gratified and it invariably was because everyone loved her and wanted to please her.
"How did you know my address? " I said aggressively.
"I was a detective too. Remember?"
He smiled at my chagrin and relented. "Your mother told me."
The rage overwhelmed me. How dared she !
"And if I have a warrant?"
"Have you? No! I didn't think so."
I wanted to smack his smirking face.
"Six, then? La Casa Serena? You know where it is ?"
He moved to the door. He stopped, turned and took something out of his pocket.
"Oh! I believe these are yours."
He dangled a pair of jet earrings in front of me and tucked them into my breast pocket.
"Ate mais, Bebe!" and shut the door quietly behind him.
I threw myself on my bed, drumming my heels against the bed and pulling a pillow over my head, I screamed my rage in to it.
When I had calmed a little, I gave the matter some thought.
Alright, I had to give him a lift but by my line of reckoning, I did not have to make it pleasant. I went down to the residents' garage and looked thoughtfully at my two cars. In my storage locker in the garage, I had some boxes and a couple of suitcases stashed, that I had been meaning for some time to take home. I opened a car door and pushed the passenger seat well forward and squashed them behind it.
I tried to push the seat back. It slid a little, no further.
Good!
When my mother gave dinner parties, especially Carnival week, she expected guests to dress; women in dinner gowns and men in D.J.s.
I decided to wear gold coloured silk, a sleeveless top with a slit neck with matching wide palazzo pants. I did my makeup a little more exotic than usual and brushed my hair straight back and coiled into a figure of eight chignon at the nape of my neck. I tucked a yellow orchid into it and fastened on a pair of topaz earrings that danced and glittered with every move of my head.
Classy not sexy.
I looked for my killer Manolo gold sandals. I wear Doc Martens most of the time in London so I always make the most of wearing heels here in Rio and I don't let my height bother me. I put on my driving shoes and put the Manolos in easy reach at my back. And hoisted my pants' legs just a little so that they didn't get caught up in the gears.
The gates to La Casa Serena swung open at my approach and I took the drive at speed. As I reached the fountain at its head, he appeared at the door. I circled fast around it to a stop sending a massive spray of cream coloured gravel high before him.
He came down the three shallow steps and looked at my Mini Cooper. I reached across and opened the door.
" Sorry! You'll be a bit squashed; I'm a bit overloaded tonight ."
He looked from me to the passenger seat and back, and exhaled; he put one leg in and began to manoeuvre the rest of himself in.
Parker is tall; six feet , and though he carries little weight, he is big framed. With the seat pushed back to its limit, it would be a squeeze. As it was, he would have his knees on the dashboard or his chest. Uncomfortable either way.
I smiled sourly to myself.
"Belt!" I said curtly. Yeah, fasten your seatbelt ! To paraphrase Bette Davis, you're in for a bumpy ride.
We turned out onto the Highway and I put my foot down. It felt as though we had been punched in the small of the back. Perhaps seeing a Mini he had been expecting a sedate little ride. I had had it souped up years ago, and Daddy always kept it serviced while I was away.
My parents' plantation is not too far from Rio, on the wide plateau half way up the Corcovado mountain range. It takes about thirty five minutes; about fifteen along the highway, then a slip road leads off up into the foothills of the Corcovados up to the agricultural plateaux. The foothills are quite steep, and although the road is well maintained, it clings to them, with sheer drops to the outside of wildly sharp Z bends.
It usually takes another twenty minutes from the slip road; it took us twelve minutes. Driving fast right to the edge of each hairpin bend.
It is perfectly safe, of course; if you know the road. I have been driving this road since I was eighteen besides, I have passed the Met's Advanced Pursuit Drivers course.
I only noticed his white knuckles twice or three times.
My parents were at the door.
" Darling, why on earth did you bring the Mini? I should have thought that the Merc. would have been more comfortable, especially for David. Poor you ! You must have had your knees under your chin."
"I thought the Mini needed the run."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him look sharply at me and I allowed the corners of my mouth curve up. And he saw. As I meant him to.
There was talk at dinner of Mardi Gras and we were asked about London and the Notting Hill Carnival. We both laughed .
" There is no comparison. There are no stands or boxes at Notting Hill. And anyone can join in." he said.
" You can't join the main floats here, but anyone can join in the street dancing between the floats." my cousin said, turning to me.
" We used to , didn't we ? Remember? And our costumes. Nothing as spectacular as the floats, of course, but pretty dazzling. I've still got mine. Have you? "
I smiled " Somewhere."
Then an idea came to me.
We were staying at the Plantation overnight. I made an excuse in the morning to stay on later, and Daddy drove him back, far more sedately than I would, I was sure, while I went up to the attics to rummage around.
.
Mardi Gras .
The noise of laughter, singing, of people just having a good time. The scent of flowers, cigarette smoke, women's perfume, the mouth watering aroma of barbeques, the smell of partying Rio.
The excitement, the beat of the music as each float drew nearer.
I had arranged to meet my parents at our box. I was last to arrive.
Parker was already there. If he was stunned at my costume, he said nothing.
The others cheered and applauded.
"Isn't that your old Mardi Gras costume? Wow! I don't think mine would still fit." This from my cousin .
A violet, emerald and cobalt sequinned cropped top, a bare midriff, a long frilled and spangled skirt caught up high on my hips showing the length of my legs; a close fitting sequinned cap in the same colours, my hair pulled out high, falling in a pony tail. My eyes were painted a glittering iridescent blue and green .
"Are you going to dance, Alys?"
" Mmm, if I can find a partner. How about you, Mr... Hunter? Dance?" I clicked my fingers and shimmied at him.
" Woh Hoh, David, go for it." The others banged the table in encouragement.
Taken aback, he said " Er, Um. I don't think ….I don't know…"
"Of course you can."
" It's easy."
" You just shuffle along in time. "
I just smiled and shimmied again. As I leant forward, I whispered" Chicken!" and turned putting one foot on a chair, then the other on the guard rail, jumped down onto the edge of the road and waited.
He met my eyes and after a fractional pause, he stood. With one hand on the rail, he vaulted over and followed me into the dance.
The call came over the P.A. system. The next dance was to be a rumba, then a slow mambo, and then a Rio quadrille.
Yes !
A Rio quadrille is a samba danced by four or eight couples, in a box formation.
Each couple dance together slowly progressing forward for the verses and, for the chorus , the girls twist in an elaborate figure 8 across the box , briefly dancing with each man to arrive back with their partners for the next verse.
I grabbed his hand and inserted us into the nearest group.
The music was an old song.
I sang the English words into his ear as I danced around him.
'Ole I am a bandit, the bandit of Brazil,
I am the quickest on the trigger ,
When I shoot I shoot to kill... '
The guitars took the wordless refrain .
Da da di da di da di da di da di da
With the refrain I danced away and back behind him to stretch my arms along his and shimmy against him as I whispered the next verse .
'Once I robbed a rich ranchero .
Who was rich beyond compare
And to ransom held his daughter.
She was young and she was fair.'
At the last chorus I danced across the box and dropped to my feet as if fastening my shoes, watching him. He moved on with the others while turning, searching.
When I stood again, they had moved well on and a float was hiding me. I jumped up onto its foot rail and rode it to the main square. I jumped off, disappeared into the crowds and went home to my apartment.
.
I was up very early, alert and ready. I pulled on my Maggie Simpson onesie, shoved my feet into my big fluffy Bugs Bunny slippers. I made some coffee and took it out on to the balcony.
I was plaiting my hair back out of the way when the doorbell rang. I didn't answer .
It rang again.
I waited. I knew who it was.
It rang again.
I held my breath, as if he could hear me.
It rang and went on ringing. He was leaning on the bell.
Then a hammering on the door.
"Alys! Alys!" he was shouting.
I stormed to the door and flung it open.
"What do you want?"I shouted angrily.
"You know what I want !"
He was angry too. A cold quiet anger.
I turned leaving the door open, and went back into the sitting room.
Closing the door, he followed .
I turned to face him, hand on hip, one eyebrow raised insolently.
"That wasn't a very nice thing to do!"
"No?" I said aggressively." It was only what you did to me and I was cuffed."
"Wha-at?"
That floored him for a minute.
"That was different."
" It always is. With men! "
"Well, it was! " He was calmer now. He sat on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees.
"You would have had me back in the UK and up before the Old Bailey."
"Well? So? "
He looked down at his hands, turning them over.
"I was worried about you."
" This is the Rio Mardi Gras, not Notting Hill. There hasn't been an arrest or disturbance in Carnaval week for more than thirty years. Besides I 'm in the Met, I'd like to see anyone try anything with me."
We looked at each other, he looked away and then looked back.
I wriggled my toes sulkily and Bugs Bunny gnawed his carrot.
"Smart Outfit" he said, and we were both laughing.
"Coffee ?" I asked. "it's just made."
"Yeh. Thanks."
I went into the kitchen.
"Home grown?" He was right behind me.
"Of course." He leaned his hip against the counter, watching me as I got a mug out of the rack.
I poured his coffee, aware he was watching me, aware he was close, so close we were almost touching. He pushed his fingers into the twists of my plait to loosen it.
" God! I want to fuck you!" he whispered fiercely.
I watched the coffee swirl in its cup for a moment .
You are bloody attractive, Parker, but there is no way I am going to get into anything with you again, I told myself.
No Way ! No How!
But still, I stretched out my hand to rest at the nape of his neck where a little curl sat and kissed him slowly, softly, rubbing my mouth against his until his lips parted.
And went on kissing him until my knees dissolved and I was shaking against him.
I opened my eyes and drowned in the opalescent green of his.
" You got a bed ?"
I took his hand and led the way.
His mouth and hands were beginning to do wonderful things when the doorbell rang.
My eyes shot open, meeting his, my mouth just below his.
"You expecting someone?"
The bell rang briefly again and there came the sound of a key in the lock, and voices.
" Christ! My mother and father."
"Alys , Alys !" My mother 's voice and the clack of her heels.
I was out of bed and scrambling into my onesie.
"God, they will be in here with us in a minute.
I rushed to the door, fumbling with the zip. He started to get up.
I jabbed my finger at him.
"You stay there !" I hissed.
Daddy was standing in the lounge, Mamma was coming back through from the kitchen. She was bound to have seen the coffee pot and the mug with its still hot contents.
"Mamma, Daddy." and kissed them both.
"We are on our way home and thought we would have coffee with you before we leave. Perhaps we could go out to lunch later?"
And tell me off for my behaviour last night, I thought.
Mamma, elegant as always, laid her things down .
" Ah! Um, Mamma . There's um ...someone ..." My voice trailed away . She looked from me to Daddy with raised eyebrows . My colour was rising. To distract myself, I fiddled with my hair roughly plaiting it.
"I've company ..." Daddy was looking past me at the floor , then back briefly at me.
" We won't stop then. Elena, " he picked up her bag and gloves . "we'll be on our way! Alys, we' ll see you at the weekend ?"
She looked back as he took her arm guiding her out and I saw that she still was puzzled.
I turned and saw what Daddy had seen. A pair of highly polished, conker bright, men's sandals.
I closed the bedroom door and leaned against it.
He lay propped on his elbow, eyebrow raised. A little snort and we were both giggling like children.
" They know. At least Daddy does. Oh not you exactly, someone. He saw your shoes ! "
"So what's the problem? Does it matter?" he murmured. "You're what? Thirty? Surely they don't think you are still a virgin?"
I raised one shoulder in a little shrug.
" Don't you believe it! I'm thirty three and my mother thinks I'm the Blessed Virgin."
I unzipped the onesie as I crossed the room, wriggling out of it. and kicking it off.
I slid in beside him and he held me close, undoing my hair, lifting it and slowly let it fall.
"With this hair I would have thought more like the Magdalen."
He was beautiful; his eyes , his hair, his long sensual mouth.
I closed my eyes and gave myself up to him.
He kissed his way along my jaw to my ear and whispered, "God! I've ached for you for two years !"
" Don't tell me there hasn't been anybody for two years. I wouldn't believe you!"
I felt him smile against my throat.
" No. I couldn't say that. But it was always you I was thinking of. Alys, Alys !"
I touched the curl that fell across his forehead .
" Well, what are you waiting for, Parker?"
.
We spent the next week together.
Every minute we could.
We ran together, we swam, we wandered along the beach, we strolled along the front.
We sat and had coffees, watching the world go by.
We had dinner in small back street restaurants.
And the world was full of fun and laughter; of music and dancing.
The air full of the scents of Brazil.
We took his boat out, anchoring off the coast, swam and fished , and made love on its deck under the stars .
Oh yes, we made love in the mornings, the afternoons, the nights, in my bed.
Whenever we could.
And if thoughts of returning to London, along with ' ill gotten gains,' 'consorting with known criminals' and ' dereliction of duty' crept into my mind? Well, I pushed them into a dark corner.
Mamma asked him to Sunday lunch.
" Bring David with you, would you, darling?"
He collected me in his Jag.
"What happened to the Ferrari?" I asked mockingly.
" Nothing, It's sitting in the garage. "
A little smirk told me that he knew I was taking the mick, but he was the winner of that round.
"I picked it up from the Fasano's car park. I told them I would. Oops, didn't they tell you?"
Mamma had asked some other people and we kept up the pretence that we hardly knew each other.
I was helping Mamma with the coffee when she said " Darling, would you show David around my rose garden?"
I nearly blew it.
" Who?" I asked.
" David ! David Hunter. Really Alys, we have just had lunch with him."
" Oh! Mamma, are you still trying to offload me onto that poor fellah?"
" Not at all !" She said in an injured tone. " He was asking about roses for his house."
" Mamma, he was being polite; he must have dozens of bushes of his own."
" No, his garden has been sadly neglected."
I looked sceptically at her.
"Mr Hunter," I said, as I took his empty coffee cup. " My mother tells me you would like to see her roses?"
"That would be delightful ."
We went slowly down the shallow steps and along the scented alleys till he murmured, " Can they see us from here?" and took me in his arms.
We were returning to Rio in the early evening when suddenly he said " Do you know my house? Would you like to see it?"
I knew La Casa Serena of course but had not visited it since I was a small child. The light came on as we pulled up before the front door which opened before we got out of the car. An old manservant stood waiting.
" Felipe , this is Miss Fitzgerald."
He bowed gravely.
" Of course. I remember Miss Alys very well."
" Hello Felipe, it has been a long time."
" Alys has come to check if I have ruined the house."
They both smiled.
"I will show her but two mojitos first, please."
It is an old house, older than our Fazenda by about fifty years. One storey, low shady varandas hung with vines and climbing roses, surrounded the cool rooms with their polished wood floors and panelled walls.
Old Brazilian elegance .
" I have done very little." he said. " Most of the furniture came with the house because the family didn't want it. The people who had worked here for the Cruz family looked after it until it was sold so I asked if they wanted to stay on. I think they love as it much as I do."
Felipe had lit the lamps around the library and we sat in the low light with our drinks till he took my hand and we went from room to room.
"This is my bedroom; the only part of the house I have done anything to. I painted the panelling and ceiling to lighten it."
He opened a door, one of two leading off.
" This was another bedroom, I divided it and this is my dressing room . And this..." he opened the second door. "is my bathroom."
Luxurious to die for.
"I've put varanda doors right across the wall and built a deck outside. The view is too good to be missed."
I leaned against the door frame drinking in the scents of the warm evening air. He came and put his arms around me holding me so close, kissing my throat, my ears.
"It's been so long. "
"It was only this afternoon, in the rose garden."
"It is still too long."
He was unbuttoning my dress.
I held his hand still.
" Parker, Parker what about Felipe?"
"What about him?"
"Parker, Rio isn't London."
"So?"
" Unmarried people don't sleep together ."
He laughed cynically.
"Alright ! Maybe they do but not blatantly. Felipe and your house staff are church goers and would not approve."
He was slowly moving me backwards till my the back of my knees touched the bed. He had finished undoing the buttons and pushed my dress , then my slip to the ground and me onto the bed.
" This is my house, my money pays their wages. If they don't like it ..." he shrugged. "Besides, they like me. And you like this."
I couldn't argue with that.
I loved what he was doing to me.
The pale mauve sky had deepened to a deep blue.
" I should go." I sat up.
"Stay, stay the night."
" What will Felipe think?"
"I'm sure Felipe knows the score. "
He sat up behind me kissing my shoulder.
I turned my head.
"You've brought someone here?"
"Jealous?"
I stiffened.
"Not at all."
His hand slid around onto my belly and his finger ran circles around my navel.
" No need to be, no-one else has ever been here, just you."
He kissed the curve where my neck slides into my shoulder.
"Stay ,stay Alys." he murmured .
I stayed .
That night, the next day, and the following night.
And far from disapproving, Felipe and his staff seemed to welcome me. Both mornings, my dress and underwear freshly laundered were waiting for me when I woke.
We were driving back to Rio when he asked, " Did you like it? The house?"
He was eager, almost like a little boy wanting to please.
"Yes I like it very much. I have always thought it was beautiful."
"Did you like what I have done ? You don't think I have spoilt anything?
"No."
"What would you do next? To the house?"
.
I went into the bathroom. I don't know what jerked my memory.
" Parker?"
" Mmm"
" What day is it ?"
" Tuesday."
I went back into the bedroom, dropped off my wrap, slid into bed and curled into him, my arm around him. He was lying one hand behind his head. it wasn't fair that he was so beautiful.
I turned onto my back and stretched up my hand to hold his above our heads. He kissed my hair and played with my fingers.
" D'you know, I'd completely lost track... I 'll have to have a tidy up tomorrow. For Friday. "
A little silence.
" Friday?"
"Mmm! Back home."
"This isn't home?"
I smiled a wry little smile.
"It hasn't been home for a long time."
" You haven't thought of living here again.
His fingers stopped moving.
" I love coming for a holiday but I couldn't live here; not after London.
It is so claustrophobic. I don't think I could bear it. The gossip..."
"They gossip in London ."
"Yes but not in the same way. So trivial; about clothes and makeup. Whether you went to the salon to have your hair done this week... whether your nail varnish is chipped.
Women stultify here.
If you have money ... You are given a first class education and then are not expected to use it ... Not people of my family's standing anyway.
And my job, I love it. It stretches me..."
"So you are going back..."
I wriggled closer.
His body was taut and he let my fingers go.
"Going to swear out a warrant?"
I opened my mouth and closed it.
I was still.
It was as though he slapped me.
"Of course not." I said slowly.
" There's no of course about it"
My mouth was dry and my lips stuck together.
He sat up and swung his legs out of the bed. Picking up his things, he began to dress.
"Parker?
"You going?"
He pulled on his pants and shirt.
"Yep." he said casually. "Places to go, people to see."
He shoved his feet into his Docksiders.
I watched while he went into the bathroom and collected his wash bag. He came back and threw it into his overnight bag on the chair.
"When will I see you?"
He gave a half shrug.
"Oh, I expect I'll see you around ."
I knelt up at the foot of the bed, tucking the sheet under my arms.
"Before I go back to London?"
"Sure! I don't see why not."
He smiled a bright brittle smile.
"Parker."
He had moved to the door. He paused without turning, his hand on the knob.
"Parker?"
He shut it quietly behind him.
" Jonathan?" I asked in a tiny lost voice. But even as I said it I heard the apartment door click shut.
The faint hum of the lift.
Suddenly I felt very cold.
I pulled the sheet up around my shoulders.
I heard his voice in my head.
"I was worried about you."
I realised.
What he had been saying over and over.
Out on his boat ..
" Lorelei. Yeah, I named her after someone I know. Forever calling me into disaster on the rocks."
.
"We'd make a great team. We'd beat your dad hands down."
.
And again,
" Felipe, Alys has come to see the house."
.
"Which roses do you like?"
"Where would you put them?"
Felipe and his staff , they had known .
.
And me, I hadn't realised.
Nor did I see In my silly, shallow, careless enjoyment that we were in over our heads .
That it couldn't last.
..
" are you going back to swear out a warrant?"
.
He, more clear sighted...or maybe it was self preservation, he had cut us loose.
Before it was too late.
Parker!
Perhaps it was already too late.
The Carnival is over.
The copper and the crook !
It even sounds like a trashy novel.
.
.
.^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
THE PARTY'S OVER
.
The party's over
It's time to call it a day
They've burst your pretty balloon
And taken the moon away
It's time to wind up the masquerade
Just make your mind up the piper must be paid
The party's over
The candles flicker and dim
You danced and dreamed through the night
It seemed to be right just being with him
Now you must wake up,
All dreams must end
Take off your makeup, the party's over
It's all over, my friend
The party's over
It's time to call it a day
No matter how you pretend
You knew it would end this way.
Now you must wake up,
All dreams must end
Take off your makeup, the party's over
It's all over, my friend.
.
.^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^.