`At first I lived in an hotel, then I rented a small villa, as I meant to take my time looking for a really pleasant property. But after I had been in the island for six months the situation there rapidly began to deteriorate. Thousands of white Colons from Algeria, who had been dispossessed, were sent out there by de Gaulle. Very few of the poor wretches had any money, so many of them turned to crime and the streets of Papeete became dangerous at night. My own position, as a still wealthy French expatriate from Algeria, became, too, a specially awkward one, because I had quite a number of old friends and acquaintances among thee new arrivals. I helped them as much as I could, but they were constantly borrowing money from me that I knew I should never see back, and I simply could not afford to go on like that.
`While I was wondering how to get out of this awkward situation, I took a trip to Fiji and fell in love with it. Some of the outer islands are absolutely heavenly, particularly those to the west. I bought one in the Mamanuca Group, and built a house on it. There, now you know all there is to know about me.
Over lunch they talked on over their respective pasts with so much enjoyment in each other that they both temporarily forgot the shadow that hung over Gregory.
When they had finished their meal Gregory said, `There is nothing I would like more than to ask you to dine with me tonight; but, unfortunately, I'm committed to dine at the British Embassy!
Quickly she laid a hand on his. `Don't go. Please don't go. I want you to stay here and lock yourself in your room.'
He shook his head. `No, I wouldn't like to cry off at the last moment. Our Ambassador learned through Hugo Wellesley that I was in Rio, and he said how much he would like to talk over old times with me. You see, it was not until after the war that he went into the Foreign Service, and during the war he held a post that brought him into contact with many of my own activities. And this is to be a tete a tete dinner; just HE. and myself.
For some while Manon strove to persuade Gregory to change his mind; but, although he had long been out of the game, he knew, from what Hugo had said, that the Ambassador wanted a private talk with him about the world situation; so he remained firm.
At length she said with a sigh, `Very well then. But at least let me see you again before you go. We'll go up for our siesta now, but come along to my room about six o'clock. I'll have a bottle of champagne on ice up there and we'll hang the “Don't Disturb” notice outside the door.'
Gregory needed no telling what she had in mind and, now fortified by an excellent lunch, he smilingly accepted the challenge.
That evening his session with. Manon matured as he had expected, to their mutual delight. While he was dressing, she again pleaded desperately with him not to go out. But he told her not to worry, as the only risk he could think of was that of being attacked by thugs. As he would be going by taxi, such an occurrence was most unlikely;; and if it did happen, few people were better qualified by long practice than he was to take care of themselves. At a quarter to eight, after a last lingering kiss, he left her to go to his own room to change.
Nevertheless, having survived so many perils only owing to his lifelong habit of never taking an unnecessary risk, he had been in half a mind to plead sudden illness as an excuse for not keeping his dinner engagement. His resolve not to do so had actually been determined by the fact that death had no terrors for him. On the contrary, as he had always been a convinced believer in survival after death, it held a promise for him of reunion with his beloved Erika. Even so, before he left he took the precaution of slipping a small automatic, with which he always travelled, into his hip pocket.
At four o'clock that afternoon it had again begun to rain, heavily and persistently. In fact, the downpour was such that, while in the taxi that took him to the Embassy, he could not see through the windows for more than a hundred yards ahead.
The British Embassy in the Rua Sao Clemente was a fine copy of Georgian architecture. Built in the late forties, it stood well back from the street in a pleasant garden. The lofty, handsomely furnished rooms recalled the more spacious days of the past, but Gregory and the Ambassador dined in a small, well stocked library.
His Excellency was a genial host and most knowledgeable; so Gregory thoroughly enjoyed an admirable meal and their long talk afterwards about the foreign policies of various nations which had resulted in trouble spots developing in so many parts of the world.
During the evening H.E, asked Gregory if he was going up to Brasilia.
`I don't think so,' he replied. `The fantastic buildings in the new capital must be some of the finest examples of modern architecture in the world, but one can appreciate them well enough from photographs and, I gather, there is nothing else to see there!
'That's true,' the Ambassador agreed. `One must admire the Brazilians for their stupendous effort to show that they are no longer a backward nation, but the huge cost of it has ruined their economy and the city has become a white elephant. The Congressmen and Senators who have to hold their sessions there loathe it and positively fight for places on the planes to get back to Rio every weekend. It has, too, developed into a depressed area. The many thousands of labourers who were sent up there to build it are now mostly unemployed, so the suburbs have become huge shanty towns where poverty is rampant. However, should you change your mind, let me know and I'll furnish you with introductions to the unfortunate members of my staff who are compelled to live there.'
Soon after midnight a taxi was summoned to take Gregory back to his hotel. The rain was still coming down in torrents. After eight hours of steady downpour the drains were choked and the street, awash well above the pavements, looked like a turbulent river.
On being told to go to the Copocabana Palace, the driver, in a travesty of English flavoured with an American accent; said he would do his best but could make no promise, as the water was pouring in thousands of gallons down the mountainsides through the city to the sea. But it could not get away there because the tide was rising and blocking the escape of the flood waters. In consequence they would be still deeper near the shore, and Gregory might have to walk the last mile or more.
As they progressed at only a few miles an hour, Gregory saw that the man had good reason for his pessimism… Every street they entered had abandoned cars in it and when they reached the broad waterfront, two thirds of the way along Botafogo Bay, there were long lines of stationary vehicles left awash by their owners. The water there was knee deep and its height was increasing every moment. The taxi man succeeded in keeping going only by driving his cab up on to and along the pavement.
A few hundred yards further on they reached a big open space at the southern end of the bay, called the Mourisco. There the taxi should have turned inland in the direction of the tunnel, but it pulled up with a jerk. Turning, the driver made Gregory understand that he dared go no further. At such a slow pace it would take him at least another half hour to reach the Copacabana Palace, and by the time he got back to rectos the Mourisco, the water would have risen to a level that would submerge his engine.
The sight of the floods had at last made Gregory really uneasy. Now, cursing his folly at not having asked H.E. to put him up for the night at the Embassy, he reluctantly got out and paid off the driver. The water was well above his knees and he found it a considerable effort to splash through it.
Miles of the seafront along Rio 's many bays consist of reclaimed land which has been laid out in long, broad lawns planted with ornamental trees. Some stretches are wider than others and the Mourisco is one of these. It forms a small triangular park with three main streets running into it. The whole of the area was inundated, so no pavements, street islands or flower beds were visible. From between the blocks of buildings, several hundred yards away from where Gregory had left the taxi, the streets, seen only vaguely through pouring rain, had the appearance of rushing rivers. Behind him the flood merged with the sea, so the little park was one great sheet of water, from which rose only the trees and the upper parts of stranded vehicles.