Leaving Tangier

32. Gabriel

GABRIEL WAS CERTAINLY the person who knew Miguel the best. Even though they rarely saw each other, they kept in close touch. Gabriel knew things about his friend, but refused to talk about them. That morning, however, when he saw Azel show up at his office, he asked him to wait, not to leave under any circumstances, because he had something to tell him.

‘I’m glad to see you, Azel. I had no idea where to find you. But first, what brings you here?’

After a moment’s hesitation, Azel spoke of Soumaya’s predicament, and Gabriel immediately reassured him. It so happened that she had come to see him a few days earlier: she was suffering from a severe hepatitis infection, nothing more. She was already taking medication that would quickly have her back on her feet.

‘But I saw her myself! She’s terribly sick!’

‘Don’t worry, she’ll be fine. Thanks to a few little “Moroccan” interventions, I managed to have her admitted to a clinic run by the Red Cross. She must rest, and above all, she must live a cleaner life, poor dear — she’s been abandoned, and has let herself go very badly. I even told her that before anything else, she would be wise to take a bath. To look at her, you’d have thought she was at death’s door.’

After a pause, Gabriel added, ‘You hurt Miguel a lot, you know.’

‘Oh, let’s not be dramatic: I helped myself to a few of his knickknacks because I had a debt to pay, that’s all. Miguel was very generous to my family, but I’ve lost everything, I’m ruined. I’m the one to be pitied, not him.’

‘Well then, at least listen to what I’m going to tell you. Miguel is not the man you think he is. He is a self-made man, but in a way, he took the same path as you. The family he was born into was quite poor. His father had to go abroad to Morocco and then France, where he worked in the port of Marseilles. His mother was a concierge in a residential neighbourhood, and to survive, she was forced to surrender her children to the child welfare authorities. At your age, Miguel was in much more desperate straits than you are today. He left Spain as soon as he could, to save his own skin. To do that, like you, he had to follow a man, a rich and powerful English lord, a stern and complicated person. Because Miguel was so handsome, this lord took him under his protection and set him up in one of his homes after his return to London. Miguel was his lover, his devoted slave, his servant, his valet, and the lord even required him to sleep now and then with his sister, an old hag no one wanted. Unlike you, Miguel had already had sexual relations with men in Spain; he liked that and had no problem with it, even though society viewed such matters harshly at the time. Miguel submitted to his master and satisfied him, knowing that one day he would be rewarded for his service. So, being sly and intelligent, he took as much advantage as possible of those few occasions when the lord would refuse him nothing. Miguel’s sole objective was to escape from misery and poverty once and for all. That’s why he even used the sister to obtain what the lord was most reluctant to part with: a small Picasso that Miguel absolutely adored. It took strength, let me tell you, and incredible energy to play this game to the end and above all, come out a winner. In short, when the lord died, he left his vast fortune to Miguel. The lord’s sister contested the will, and even started a rumour that Miguel had poisoned her brother, but the law ruled in Miguel’s favour. After that, he moved to Tangier, where he bought a magnificent house. He set his parents up in a little farm in Málaga, and put some order in his own life. He began by changing his name. He found a husband and a job for his sister. He made overtures to the Spanish royal family, and some people even say that the queen took a liking to him, which opened up some doors. Miguel loved to shine, to give large parties, spend money, and do everything for those he fell in love with. So you see, Azel, I think that with you he was reliving a part of his youth, and you deeply disappointed him.’

Azel was stunned. He couldn’t help thinking about what Miguel might leave him when he died. He even considered approaching him to ask for forgiveness, to get back into his good graces and slip him the famous little pill that stops the heart without leaving a trace…

Now that Gabriel had reassured him, and he was less worried about Soumaya, Azel thought about his own troubles. Just as he was about to say goodbye to Gabriel, he hung his head and stammered nervously, ‘Listen, I can’t get a hard-on anymore!’

‘So? It happens to everyone, like getting a flat tyre. All men go through it sooner or later, it’s nothing, don’t get upset about it.’

‘It’s not physical — it’s my head that’s screwed up, I feel lost, my self-confidence is completely gone, I’m done for, so ashamed…’

‘Then call me next week, we’ll talk seriously about this.’