wanted to forewarn you so you could… so you could do whatever you want to do.”
“What the hell is that?” Talbot exploded.
“How the hell do I know?” McIver was equally exasperated. “You’re supposed to protect your nationals.”
“But y - ”
“I’m just not going to be put out of business and that’s the end of it!” Talbot’s fingers drummed nervously. “I think I need a cup of tea.” He clicked on the intercom. “Celia, two cups of the best and I think you better insert a modest amount pf Nelson’s Blood into the brew.”
“Yes, Mr. Talbot,” the adenoidal voice said and sneezed.
“Bless you,” Talbot said automatically. His fingers stopped drumming and he smiled sweetly at McIver. “I’m awfully glad you didn’t tell rne anything about anything, old boy.”
“So’m I.”
“Rest assured, should I ever hear that you’re in pokey doing - what’s the expression? Ah, yes, ‘doing porridge’ - I shall be glad to visit you on behalf of Her Majesty’s Government and attempt to extricate you from the errors of your ways.” Talbot’s eyebrows went off his forehead. “Grand larceny! Bless my soul, but jolly good luck, old boy.”
IN AZADEH’S APARTMENT: 8:10 A.M. The old maidservant carried the heavy silver breakfast tray along the corridor - four boiled eggs, toast and butter and marmalade, two exquisite coffee cups, steaming coffeepot, and the finest Egyptian cotton napkins. She put the tray down and knocked. “Come in.”
“Good morning, Highness. Salaam.”
“Salaam,” Sharazad said dully. She was propped against the many pillows of the carpet bed, her face puffy from tears. The bathroom door was ajar, sound of water running. “You can put it here, on the bed.”
“Yes, Highness.” The old woman obeyed. With a sidelong glance at the bathroom, she left silently.
“Breakfast, Tommy,” Sharazad called out, trying to sound bright. No answer. She half shrugged to herself, sniffed a little, more tears not far away, then looked up as Lochart came back into the bedroom. He was shaved and dressed in winter flying gear - boots, trousers, shirt, and heavy sweater. “Coffee?” she asked with a tentative smile, hating his set face and the air of disapproval that he wore.
“In a minute,” he said without enthusiasm. “Thank you.”
“I… I ordered everything just as you like it.”
“Looks good - don’t wait for me.” He went over to the bureau and began to tie his tie.
“It really was wonderful of Azadeh to lend us the apartment while she’s away, wasn’t it? So much nicer than home.”
Lochart looked at her in the mirror. “You didn’t say that at the time.” “Oh, Tommy, of course you’re right but please don’t let’s quarrel.” “I’m not. I’ve said it all and so have you.” I’ve had that, he thought, anguished, knowing she was as miserable as he was but unable to do anything about it. When Meshang had challenged him in front of her and Zarah, two nights ago, the nightmare had begun that continued even now, tearing them apart, bringing him to the edge of madness. Two days and nights of broken tears and him saying over and over, “No need to worry, we’ll manage somehow, Sharazad,” and then discussing the future. What future? he asked his reflection, once more wanting to explode.
“Here’s your coffee, darling Tommy.”
Glumly he took it, sat on a chair facing her, not looking at her. The coffee was hot and excellent but it did not take away the foul taste in his mouth, so he left it almost untouched and got up and went for his flight jacket. Thank God I’ve today’s ferry to Kowiss, he thought. Goddamn everything! “When do I see you, darling, when do you come back?”
He watched himself shrug, hating himself, wanting to take her in his arms and tell her the depth of his love but he had been through that agony four times in the last two days and she was still as relentless and inflexible as her brother: “Leave Iran? Leave home forever?” she had cried out. “Oh, I can’t, I can’t!”
“But it won’t be forever, Sharazad. We’ll spend some time in Al Shargaz then go to England, you’ll love England and Scotland and Aberd - ” “But Meshang says th - ”
“Screw Meshang!” he had shouted and saw the fear in her and that only served to whip his anger into a frenzy. “Meshang’s not God Almighty, for Christ’s sake! What the goddamn hell does he know?” and she had sobbed like a terrified child, cowering away from him. “Oh, Sharazad, I’m so sorry…” Taking her into his arms, almost crooning his love to her, she safe in his arms.
“Tommy, listen, my darling, you were right and I was wrong, it was my fault, but I know what to do, tomorrow I’ll go and see Meshang, I’ll persuade him to give us an allowance and… what’s the matter?”
“You haven’t heard a goddamned word I’ve said.”
“Oh, but I have, yes, indeed, I listened very carefully, please don’t be angry again, you’re right of course to be angry but I list - ” Flaring back: “Didn’t you hear what Meshang said? We’ve no money - the money’s finished, the building’s finished, he has total control over the family money, total, and unless you obey him and not me you’ll get nothing more. But that’s not important, I can make enough for us! I can! The point is we have to leave Tehran. Leave for… for a little while.” - “But I haven’t any papers, I haven’t, Tommy, and can’t get any yet and Meshang’s right when he says if I leave without papers they’ll never let me back, never, never.”
More tears and more arguing, not being able to get through to her, more tears, then going to bed, trying to sleep, no sleep for either of them. “You can stay here, Tommy. Why can’t you stay here, Tommy?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Sharazad, Meshang made that very clear. I’m not wanted and foreigners are out. We’ll go somewhere else. Nigeria, or Aberdeen, somewhere else. Pack a suitcase. You’ll get on the 125 and we’ll meet at Al Shargaz - you’ve a Canadian passport. You’re Canadian!” “But I can’t leave without papers,” she wailed and sobbed and the same arguments, over and over, and more tears.
Then, yesterday morning, hating himself, he had put aside his pride and had gone to the bazaar to reason with Meshang, to get him to relent - all that he was going to say painstakingly worked out. But he had come up against a wall as high as the sky. And worse.
“My father held a controlling interest in the IHC partnership, which of course I inherit.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful, that makes all the difference, Meshang.” “It makes no difference at all. The point is how do you intend to pay your debts, pay your ex-wife, and pay for my sister and her child without a very great infusion of charity?”
“A job’s not charity, Meshang, it’s not charity. It could be mightily profitable for both of us. I’m not suggesting a partnership, anything like that, I’d work for you. You don’t know the helicopter business, I do, inside out. I could run the new partnership for you, make it instantly profitable. I know pilots and how to operate. I know all of Iran, most of the fields. That would solve everything for both of us. I’d work like hell to protect the family interests, we’d stay in Tehran, Sharazad could have the baby here an - ”
“The Islamic state will require Iranian pilots only, Minister Kia assures me. One hundred percent.”
Sudden understanding. His universe abruptly ripped asunder. “Ah, now I get it, no exceptions, eh, particularly me?”
He had seen Meshang shrug disdainfully. “I’m very busy. To be blunt, you cannot stay in Iran. You’ve no future in Iran. Out of Iran Sharazad has no future of any value with you and she will never permanently exile herself - which will happen if she goes without my permission and without proper papers. Therefore you must divorce.”
“No.”
“Send Sharazad back from the Khan’s apartment this afternoon - more charity by the way - and leave Tehran immediately. Your marriage wasn’t Muslim so it’s unimportant - the Canadian civil ceremony will be annulled.” “Sharazad will never agree.”
“Oh? Be at my house at 6:00 P.M. and we will make final this matter. After you’ve left I’ll settle your Iranian debts - I cannot have bad debts hanging over our good name. 6:00 P.M. sharp. Good morning.”
Not remembering how he got back to the apartment but telling her and more tears and then to the Bakravan house that evening and Meshang repeating what he had said, infuriated with Sharazad’s abject begging: “Don’t be ridiculous, Sharazad! Stop howling, this is for your own good, your son’s good, and the family’s good. If you leave on a Canadian passport without proper Iranian papers you’ll never be allowed back. Live in Aberdeen? God protect you, you’d die of cold in a month and so would your son…. Nanny Jari won’t go with you, not that he could pay for her; she’s not mad, she won’t leave Iran and her family forever. You’ll never see us again, think of that… think of your son…” over and over until Sharazad was reduced to incoherence and Lochart to pulp.
