Farraj shook his head firmly.
‘One does not betray one’s own kind,’ he said.
Back in the hotel, Seymour was sitting in the vestibule waiting for Chantale to come down so that they could go out to dinner. He heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up. It wasn’t Chantale, however, but Nina. She hesitated for a moment and then came over and sat down beside him.
‘My mother will be down in a moment,’ she said, as if this boldness needed explanation.
‘And so I hope, will Chantale,’ said Seymour.
There was a slightly awkward pause. Nina did not seem to invite conversation but he thought that this was awkwardness, shyness, perhaps, rather than hostility.
‘You have had a good day at school?’
‘Every day is a good day at school.’
‘You have found your vocation, clearly.’
‘Yes.’
There was another awkward pause.
‘It is a responsibility,’ said Seymour, ‘and a rather demanding one, I would think. Are there just the two of you?’
She fired up defensively.
‘We can manage,’ she said.
‘I am sure you can. Certainly the teaching. I have seen you, and am most impressed.’
She looked at him suspiciously.
‘No, I mean it. I certainly couldn’t do it.’
‘Men are less good at this sort of thing,’ said Nina forgivingly.
‘And what about the administrative side? Do you have to do that as well?’
‘We have a parents’ committee.’
‘And that is all?’
‘Anarchists do not believe in unnecessary administration. We are opposed to bureaucracy.’
‘Yes, of course. I was just wondering if you had any support from outside.’
‘We don’t need support from outside.’
‘I was thinking of the chance to share views, pool experience.’
‘Well, that might be wise,’ said Nina, considering. ‘But there aren’t any other anarchist schools near us.’
‘There are anarchists, though?’
‘Oh, yes. It is a growing movement.’
‘And do you have much contact with that wider movement?’
‘We are too busy, really Perhaps we should.’
‘You sound very much on your own.’
‘Anarchists believe in self-reliance.’
‘Yes, of course. But sometimes ploughing a path of your own can be very lonely.’
‘Esther and I support each other. And we get support from the parents. Perhaps,’ she admitted, ‘not a lot of support. But Esther says that is always the case with parents.’
‘And your father, how did he fit in? Was he part of the wider movement or was he just, well, interested in the school? Because you were?’
‘Well, I think he was generally interested in anarchist education. He was interested in education of all kinds. Perhaps because he thought that, having been to an English public school, he had never had one. But, perhaps, yes, he was particularly interested in what we were doing because it was me.’
‘He didn’t put you in touch with anarchists outside?’
‘No, no. He didn’t really know many anarchists.’
‘You know, that surprises me. What about the fishermen? Aren’t they anarchists?’
‘Well, they are and they aren’t. They have a lot in common with anarchists, they are against authority, for example, and very self-reliant. But they are not — not very theoretical. Well, you wouldn’t expect it. In fact, my father rather liked that. “They’re practical people,” he used to say. “They just get on with it.” I don’t think he talked much about anarchism with them. They’re not — not the sort of people to have that kind of conversation.’
‘Do you have that kind of conversation with them?’
‘Not really. They’re very conservative. They don’t really talk much to women they don’t know. They don’t talk to anybody much, really.’
‘So your father’s contacts with them were not really anarchist contacts but more a matter of business?’
‘Not just business. He liked them and tried to help them. He gave them money sometimes.’
‘And then, of course, there was the smuggling.’
Nina stood up.
‘Senor Seymour,’ she said, ‘I think you’re fishing for information.’
Chapter Twelve
'Hmm,’ said Senor Vasquez, ‘I don’t know about this. He’s a nice man, I’m sure. I ran into him occasionally in Gibraltar. I’ve always got on well with him. But I don’t know how Carmen might feel. Or her mother, come to that.’
‘Well, that’s it,’ said Seymour.
‘It’s important how your daughter feels,’ said Chantale.
‘Well, it is. And she’s got a mind of her own. I don’t know, well, how she would take to it. I mean, it’s a fear, isn’t it? Their ways are not our ways — I don’t mean anything by that, Senora,’ he said hastily, turning to Chantale. ‘If they loved each other, that would be enough for me. But there’s always the worry, isn’t there, how things might work out? Marriage is difficult enough anyway without — without complications.’
‘I feel that, certainly,’ said Chantale.
‘Of course, if you knew him better…’ said Seymour. ‘The family, that is.’
‘Well, yes.’
‘Unfortunately, he’s going back to Algeria in a week.’
‘He is?’ said Senor Vasquez, brightening.
‘I think he was hoping to get some sort of agreement before he departed,’ said Hattersley.
‘Agreement?’
‘Or acknowledgement.’
‘Well…’
‘I told him that things could not be rushed,’ said Chantale.
‘No, certainly not,’ said Senor Vasquez. ‘In Spain there is normally a long courtship. That gives the couple a chance to know each other. And, of course, it eases some of the natural doubts of the families.’
‘A wise custom,’ said Seymour. ‘Provided it’s not extended for too long.’
‘Although there are risks in shortening it,’ said Chantale.
Senor Vasquez looked at her gratefully. “There are, Senora, there are! On both sides. For both families.’ He hesitated. ‘You are, if I am not mistaken, Senora, from appearance, not unconnected with the family yourself?’
‘Distantly,’ said Chantale. ‘Distantly.’
‘Distance sometimes gives perspective,’ said Senor Vasquez.
‘Of course, you yourself, Senor, I gather, from what you said, know him quite well?’
‘Well, not that well. As well as one knows anyone one meets primarily through business. And business is — well, rather different, isn’t it?’
‘It is. But did you not have an opportunity, while you were over in Gibraltar, of meeting his family? Seeing him in something of a family setting?’
‘I met his sister. Charming lady. Very businesslike. But-’
‘And did he not sometimes come over here?’
‘To Barcelona? Yes. Yes, occasionally. The docks. We sometimes used to meet over business in the docks. The Lockharts have an office there. And once I invited him round to our place for lunch.’
Once, thought Seymour? Was the whole edifice of Abou’s hopes built on one casual visit only?
‘It seemed kind to. He always struck me as being rather on his own.’
‘He was probably feeling rather lost. Had he been to Barcelona before?’
‘Once or twice. But then he was here for a week or so just before Senor Lockhart died. Business was building up, I suppose. He was here during Tragic Week. You know about Tragic Week? It must have been quite a shock to him. But, of course, if you were doing business at the docks, that was just the time when you needed to be there. And then, of course, when poor Senor Lockhart died, he was here a lot. He had to step in for a considerable while.’
‘And when Senor Lockhart was in prison — you know he was put in prison?’
‘Along with a lot of other people.’
‘Yes, along with a lot of others. Was Abou about then?’
‘I never quite understood what happened during that week. Or what Lockhart was doing. They tell me he was out on the streets. In the middle of all that! It seems crazy to me. But I suppose he felt — felt that the bullet would not hit him. A dangerous assumption, that.’