Vince? This was more than a whisper. A voice called him softly. He was sitting bolt upright, knees drawn towards him. The zip squeaked. Vince, can I talk a bit?
Clive! How is she? What’s the news? In the dark light Clive’s bearded face showed surprise: I thought you were talking to someone. Waiting for Louise, Vince said. She must be out with Mark. All these youngsters, in love! Clive managed a faint smile. I need to talk a moment. I’ve got a favour to ask. I’ll get up, Vince said. There’s no room in here. Come to the chalet, Clive told him. He would put on a coffee.
The fly — sheet was soaked in dew. Vince headed for the bathroom first. The fluorescent light greeted him like an old friend. He wanted to burst out laughing. What a volatile state! If I only could. He was thinking of the rapid. Then, heading for the chalet, it was with a sense of wonder that he remembered taking the same path only yesterday, to spy on their erotic happiness. Perhaps my own marriage wasn’t so bad, he thought. He and Gloria had always shared the same bed.
Clive was making coffee on a gas ring. It’s a pretty big favour, he warned. He busied himself with the flame and the percolator, then began moving rapidly around the room gathering various bits and pieces. Leaning against the bed was an open backpack.
Vince sat on a stool by a counter along the wall. It was odd, he thought, how cluttered and at the same time impersonal the room was. There are no pictures or ornaments. It was all kit and tackle and clothes and papers. Ask away, he said. Clive went back to the coffee, shook out the dregs from two cups, brought a mug to Vince, then stood facing him. I want you to hold the fort here for a few days, while I’m away.
At once Vince felt alert; some animal intuition told him he was in danger. Standing before him, feet squarely planted, steaming mug held in both hands, Clive was searching for his eyes. His own were intense and persuasive, brightly blue. The thick beard and the strong tanned forearms thrusting from rolled — up denim sleeves made such a man of him. He didn’t seem tired at all. I have to leave in a couple of hours, he explained. For Berlin. I should be back on Thursday. Meantime, someone will have to stay here to be near Michela and visit her and so on. I thought, with you having your own car, you’d be best placed to do that. I’ve got to drive down to Bolzano, to the airport.
Immediately Vince said: Really, I’m afraid I must be back at work Monday. I’ve already been away too long.
Clive ran his tongue over his lips, half smiling, still looking directly into the older man’s eyes. He drank from his mug, then set it down on the counter, turned abruptly, crouched beside a small chest of drawers and began pulling out underwear. Vince’s mind is racing. How is she? he asked.
Clive pushed the clothing into his backpack. She’s going to be okay, I think. The scans suggest she’ll be out of the coma any moment. It isn’t deep. So they say. He spoke without emotion, then got down on the floor to straighten out the sleeping bag and roll it up. You can stay here in the chalet. It’s rented for the whole summer. I’ll show you where everything is.
Vince watched the man, his efficiency and hurry. He gave the impression of someone who has heard an urgent flood warning and is moving fast to get out, someone used to flood warnings. Or again of a soldier preparing his kit before action. There was a lithe quality to the man’s rapidity, a sureness and presumption that was seductive; and Vince was reminded how, during the walk to the glacier, he had looked up and seen Clive climbing quickly through the stones and the girl doggedly following. Exactly the man I’m not, Vince thought. The man who attracts women. He was half aware now that he had been thinking this all week, since the moment Clive had stood and leaned across the table to slap Adam’s face. Clive completely dominated Adam today on the river, he thought. In the end he won him over. Or at least wore him out. He won over the whole group. Only his will brought us safely down. Don’t you think, Vince said at last, that you should be beside her when she wakes up.
No. Clive didn’t turn to Vince, but had started collecting things and laying them on the table now: keys, a torch, a map. Actually, I’m the last person who should be there.
But …
She can tell you about it, Clive said. I’m not going to explain. I said at the hospital that her uncle would be arriving in the morning.
Her uncle?
Clive finally turned and grinned. That’s you. Look: these are the essentials for living here. The long key is for the door, the small one for the padlock on the gas cylinder under the window outside.
I imagine you’ve told her mother.
No.
But that’s the first …
Next to myself, her mother is the other worst person for Michela at the moment.
Vince tried to be judicious. In so far, he said, as an attempted suicide is always a cry for help, don’t you think the person, or people cried to should be the ones to respond? Again he saw the girl turn her boat to look back across the water, to her lover.
Clive pulled the cord tight to close his backpack. In that case people would only have to threaten to kill themselves to get exactly what they want, wouldn’t they? There’s still some food in the fridge, by the way, milk and cheese and stuff.
Vince drained his coffee. I’ll tell Mandy, he said. She can use my car. I’ll go back with the minibus.
Clive stopped. As if making a considerable concession, he interrupted his packing and came to sit at the counter on the other stool. He was very close now. He pulled a tin of rolling tobacco from his pocket. Again Vince was aware of the shape and power of the forearms lying on the counter as they rolled the cigarette. The fingers were thick but nimble.
Mandy won’t do it, Clive said, nor will Keith, because they are in loco parentis as far as the younger kids are concerned. And Adam is the wrong person.
We’ll see, Vince replied. I don’t know the terms of their contract, but I can’t see why one of them couldn’t stay. Like I said, I can leave my car. Actually, Adam seems perfectly suitable to me, if he can get the time off work.
Clive lit his cigarette, narrowed his eyes. Listen, I’ve been thinking about this all evening. Again he was searching for eye contact. I’d rather it was you, Vince.
Vince laughed. Clive, he said softly. He adopted the voice of the older wiser man addressing an over — enthusiastic employee. Clive, listen, I’m a bank director. I have just taken my longest holiday in ten years. I am expected back in the hot seat on Monday morning. There will be hundreds, literally hundreds, of e — mails to answer, reports to consider, a team of accountants awaiting my instructions. I have responsibilities, Clive. The person who has to stay here, with his girlfriend, is you.
Clive smoked. It is towards three in the morning. Around them the camp is quite silent, so that they can almost feel its silence and darkness tugging at them. I pulled her out of the water, he said. And now I’m going to do what she expects me to do. I have my responsibilities too.
Like shouting at a demonstration? I can’t imagine in her present state Michela cares too much about that.
I’ve got something important to do, Clive said evenly. She will tell you. Otherwise I wouldn’t be going. They both sat on their stools by the counter with the room’s one dim light reflecting in the thin glass of the window beside them. Vince could hear the other man’s breathing, then the whine of a mosquito. Both smiled. Vince waved his hand.