The Eden Legacy

EIGHTEEN
I

Rebecca was ransacking her father’s desk for insurance documents when Zanahary arrived in the Mitsubishi, her belongings in the back. They brought everything indoors, packed overnight bags for themselves, locked up and set off south for Tulear. She took the wheel herself, Daniel alongside her and Zanahary on the flatbed behind, where he could smoke all he wanted. ‘That stuff I told you last night,’ she said, once they were on their way. ‘It was in confidence, yes? You won’t write some dreadful feature on me?’

‘Of course not,’ Daniel assured her.

‘My father’s very highly respected. I’d never forgive myself if that got out.’

‘I already gave you my word,’ he said. He selected a cassette tape, turned the volume down low. ‘I’ll tell you something, though: if anyone had treated me like that, I wouldn’t be so worried for their reputation.’

‘It was only after Mama died. She was everything to him.’

‘No reason to take it out on you.’

‘No.’

‘And it was just you, right? He never went after your sister?’

‘Not Emilia, no. He absolutely doted on her. He did fall out very badly with Pierre, I remember; but they made that up in the end.’

‘And what about after you left for England?’

‘That was the end of it. He only ever got angry when he was drunk, you see; and he never touched another drop after I left.’

‘You believe that?’

‘Emilia vouched for it. She wouldn’t have lied; not about that.’

‘Is that why you never came back? Scared you’d set him drinking again?’

‘I made him unhappy,’ she said. ‘It’s a horrid thing, making someone you love unhappy.’

‘Why would you make him unhappy?’

‘I don’t know. Not for sure.’ They crossed a slender thread of stream. Two Malagasy women, their fine African faces covered in yellow masks to keep their complexions pale, gathered dried washing from its far bank. ‘The only thing I could think of was that I looked quite like my mother when she was my age. Some of the things he shouted, it was like he was shouting at her.’

‘Angry at her for dying,’ suggested Daniel. ‘Taking it out on you?’

‘Grief isn’t always logical, you know,’ she said. ‘Besides, I was a poisonous little brat. I knew how to push his buttons.’

‘You were fourteen years old.’

Tears sprang into her eyes; she turned away to wipe them. ‘We argued a lot,’ she said. ‘He made me go to church. I hated church. I didn’t believe in God, but even if I had, I wouldn’t have wanted to worship him after he’d taken Mama. And it offended me that Papa did. He’d raised us to think like scientists. Religion always seemed so… cowardly.’’

‘So you taunted him about his faith until he got drunk and came after you?’

A greybeard was walking towards them down the road, carrying a green turtle on his shoulder. Rebecca shook her head at him as she passed. It was illegal here to kill turtles of any species, to hunt their eggs or sell their shells or meat, but no one paid any attention. Turtle killing was still a great event in some of these communities. They’d sacrifice them on mangrove altars, offer libations to their ancestors for future success, not realising that each one they killed made their future success less likely. ‘He didn’t really believe,’ she said. ‘Not really. It was a way of keeping Mama alive, you know?’

‘Yes,’ said Daniel. ‘I know.’

‘He had this expression: “We don’t believe because we think. We believe because we love.” I didn’t understand what he meant back then.’

‘You do now?’

‘Let’s just say I’ve learned I’m not perfect either.’ She looked across at him. ‘I’m going to find him, you know. I’m going to find them both.’

‘I don’t doubt it,’ he assured her. ‘And if you need any help…’

‘What?’ she smiled. ‘Apart from driving all the way to Tulear with me to help bring back my boat?’

‘Yes,’ he said seriously. ‘Apart from that.’

‘Thanks,’ she nodded. ‘I might just take you up on that.’