Meanwhile Greg transposed the numerous locations from his GPS onto his chart.
“We don’t seem to have gone anywhere near the site indicated on the old map. I think it's going to take more than another day to get to our destination without raising any suspicion.”
Oscar remained silent as he poured a glass of chilled white wine. Savouring it carefully, he nodded acceptance then poured a second glass, passing it across to Greg.
“ Here try this, it’s quite good.”
Greg took the glass, sipped.
“ Yes it is, where did it come from?” he asked absently.
“It’s local would you believe.” Oscar topped up the glasses.
“What do think of Dick? Do you think we could trust him, if we were to be a little more open about our real objective?” Greg asked almost hopefully.
“I know what you mean Greg but I’ve been thinking about things too.” Oscar looked at the wine in his glass. “That boat must have cost a great deal of money, yes?”
“Sure did,” Greg agreed.
“So how do you think a fisherman like Dick can afford such an investment?” Oscar poked the Bar-B-Q with his other hand and returned to Greg. “I know for a fact, that a boat like that must cost at least four hundred thousand dollars. Now on top of that, you have fuel and maintenance. Those enormous engines must be very thirsty. I bet they’ll burn at least one gallon of diesel per mile cruising. Flat out you can double that!” He sipped at his wine. “Such a configuration is not economic as a fishing boat; even if he had game fishing charters every day, it would be touch and go. He has to have a more profitable supplementary occupation.”
He wandered back to the terrace, poked absently at the Bar-B-Q and returned to the room waving the long cooking fork at Greg. “There has to be another side to our friend Moby Dick.” as Oscar had christened him.
“I guess you’re right. The question is what?”
Greg reached for the bottle and refilled the glasses.
“This stuff is OK isn’t,” he said as he drank with relish. “We’ll be pissed as newts before our guests arrive if we keep sipping at this rate.” He grinned then added after a pause, “You’re absolutely right. I wonder what he really does to justify that rig?”
At that moment there was a call from the terrace.
“Hello there, I didn’t bother with the front door. Hope this will help you to forgive me.” The young man walked into the light holding two bottles of wine. He was followed by an older lady. “Hope you don’t mind but this is my mother, she arrived this afternoon.” The lady stepped into the light. Oscar’s heart missed a beat. The lady was a few years his junior but still strikingly beautiful. She bowed politely holding out her hand. “Marion,” she introduced herself. “I apologise for imposing myself upon you but Remi insisted.”
Oscar stepped forward.
“We’re glad you made it!” He bowed gently, shaking the offered hand. The touch of her soft skin made him tingle with long forgotten excitement. The hand was cool but the grip positive the skin like silk.
“We’d have struggled a bit if you’d found a better restaurant to go to,” he stammered nodding towards the huge fish already steaming on the Bar-B-Q
“Sophie you’ve met.” Remi introduced the younger lady entering the room carrying a big bowl of mixed salad.
“Hi everyone,” she greeted them cheerfully. “Here’s the salad as promised — the pudding is still in the fridge.” She handed the bowl to Greg.
“You have gone to an awful lot of trouble,” he said, holding the bowl awkwardly.
“True,” she preened. “I’ve been toiling for hours,” she chuckled infectiously.
Greg looked truly guilty. “It’s only supposed to be a simple Bar-B-Q you know.”
She looked contrite, placing a reassuring hand on his, realising that he was genuinely perturbed.
“It’s no trouble at all. The truth is, I bought it readymade at the beach café!” she laughed. “But I still think I deserve a glass of wine though.”
Greg laughed. “Well we bought the wine from the same place actually.”
The party rolled forward, comfortably encouraged by the delicious food and abundant wine. Eventually Oscar took off his gaudy chef’s apron and sank gratefully into a chair.
“I think a little digestive is appropriate don’t you?” Greg stood up and looked towards Oscar for approval.
Oscar nodded. “The perfect moment I would say.”
Relaxed they sat in silence on the terrace. It was balmy warm; the sea lapped gently across the coarse sand. A strange mixture of music drifted inoffensively from neighbouring beachside restaurants and cafes. A multitude of colourful lights danced in a kaleidoscope of reflected colours on the calm water. The atmosphere was soporific. They nosed and appreciatively sipped at the rich aromatic liquor in the large Cognac goblets.
“Managed to obtain the only bottle of Hine Antique in Manila. Most suitable for the occasion don’t you think?” Oscar philosophised.
“The perfect conclusion to our meal,” Marion agreed with her modest smile.
The others were equally content. Greg was sitting silently relaxed in his chair gazed dreamily out to sea, when quite suddenly he leaned forward.
“I was just wondering what made you choose the Philippines for your holiday?” He asked Remi.
Remi looked up, startled by the sudden question. “Well actually mother’s dad, my grandfather, was in the Japanese military and stationed here during the war,” he responded quietly with a sense of guilt, as if not wanting the others to hear.
“You don’t have to sound so guilty Remi,” Marion comforted him. “That terrible war was over long ago.” Her gentle voice was infectious and soothing.
Remi relaxed.
“Sorry Mother, I don’t know why but I suddenly felt that funny old sense of guilt, but I’m OK now,” he smiled sadly.
“I didn’t mean to cause any embarrassment,” Greg raised his hands in apology.
Marion looked across at Greg who was clearly uncomfortable with his unwitting insensitivity.
“My father was in the Imperial Japanese Army stationed here. He was killed in action in the very last days of their occupation of the islands.”
She looked down at her hands then lifted her head proudly.
“He met an English woman prisoner who was working in his officer’s house. You see my father been unusually well educated for a common man in those days and had also learned to speak a little bit of English. Secretly and at great risk to himself, he frequently engaged the woman in conversation and quickly improved his English. Well, to cut a long story short, they became lovers and the woman fell pregnant. That, friends, is how I came to be!” She looked around proudly. “I was born soon after the islands were liberated. Sadly I never knew my father but my mother insisted that I learn Japanese in his honour. We moved back to Singapore where Mother had lived with her husband before the war.” She looked sad “I’m afraid that her husband could not accept the little Oriental baby mother returned with. So we were left to our own devices. Anyway here we are; I just wanted to take a little pilgrimage to find my father’s grave if possible.”
Oscar looked towards Marion.
“Maybe I could be of assistance I know the region quite well and after all, I am also Japanese” he offered gently in Japanese.
She smiled.
“I thought somehow that you were — and thank you, that would be nice,” she replied in the same language.
Marion looked at her son and smiled.
“You see, you have every reason to be proud of your family.”