Again the silence hung between them. Valik sipped some tea. “Did the clearance for the 212 come through?”
“Not by the time we’d left.” Lochart was unprepared for the question. “I know Mac sent a messenger to wait for it. I’d phone him but unfortunately our phone’s out. Why?” “The partners would like you to fly the charter.” “Captain McIver’s assigned Captain Lane, presuming there’s a clearance.” “It will be granted.” Valik wiped his mouth again and helped himself to more tea. “The partners would like you to fly the charter. I’m sure McIver will agree.”
“Sorry, but I’ve got to get back to Zagros, I want to make sure everything’s okay.” He told him briefly what had happened there.
“I’m sure Zagros can wait a few days. I’m sure Jared would be pleased you thought it important to do what the partners ask.”
Lochart frowned. “I’m happy to do anything. What’s so important to the partners about this charter, a few spares, a few rials?”
“All charters are important. The partners are very concerned to give the best service. So that’s all right, then?”
“I’d… first I’d have to take it up with Mac, second I doubt if the 212‘11 be cleared, third I really should get back to my base.”
Valik smiled his nicest smile. “I’m sure Mac will give his approval. You’ll have clearance to leave Tehran airspace.” He got up. “I’m going to see Mac now and I’ll tell him you’re agreeable. Thank Sharazad - again a thousand apologies for calling so late but these are troubled times.” Lochart did not move from the table. “I still want to know what’s so important about a few spares and a hundred thousand rials.” “The partners have decided it is, and so my dear young friend, hearing you were here and knowing your close relationship with my family, I presumed at once that you would be happy to do this if I asked you personally. We’re the same family. Aren’t we?” It was said flat now, though the smile remained. Lochart’s eyes narrowed. “I’m glad to do anything to help b - ” “Good, then it’s settled. Thank you. I’ll see myself out.” From the doorway Valik turned and pointedly looked around at the apartment. “You are a very lucky man, Captain. I envy you.”
When Valik had gone, Lochart sat by the dying fire, staring at the flames. Hassan and a maid cleaned away the dishes, said good night but he did not hear them - nor Sharazad who came back later, peered at him, then went quietly back to bed, dutifully leaving him to his reverie. Lochart was sick at heart. He knew that Valik was aware that everything of value in the apartment, along with the apartment itself, had been a wedding gift from Sharazad’s father. Jared Bakravan had even given him de facto ownership of the whole building - at least the rents thereof. Few knew of their argument: “As much as I appreciate your generosity I can’t accept all this, sir,” Lochart had said. “It’s impossible.” “But these are material things, unimportant things.”
“Yes, but this is too much. I know my pay’s not great, but we can manage. Truly.”
“Yes, of course. But why shouldn’t my daughter’s husband live pleasantly? How else can you be at peace to learn Iranian ways and fulfill your promise? I assure you, my son, these represent little value to me. Now you are part of my family. Family is most important in Iran. Family looks after family.” “Yes, but / must look after her - I must, not you.”
“Of course, and with the Help of God you will, in time, provide for her in the way she is used to. But now this is not possible for you with the support for your ex-wife and child which you must provide. Now it is my wish to arrange matters in a civilized way, our Iranian way. You have promised to live as we live, no?”
“Yes. But please, I cannot accept all this. Give her what you like, not me. I must be allowed to do the best I can.”
“I’m sure you will. Meanwhile, this is all my gift to you, not to her. This makes my gift of her to you possible.”
“Give it to her not t - ”
Jared Bakravan had said sharply, “It is the Will of God that man is the master of the house. If it is not your house then you will not be the master. I must insist. I am head of the family and Sharazad will do what I say and for Sharazad I must insist, or the wedding cannot take place. I realize your Western dilemma though I don’t understand it, my son. But here Iranian ways dominate all else, and family looks after family…” In the vast loneliness of the sitting room Lochart nodded to himself. That’s right and I chose Sharazad, chose to accept but … but that sonofabitch Valik threw it all in my face and made me feel dirty again and I hate him for it, hate not paying for everything, and know the only gift I can give her is freedom she would never otherwise have and my life if need be. At least she’s Canadian now and doesn’t have to stay.
Don’t fool yourself, she’s Iranian and always will be. Would she be at home in Vancouver, B.C., with all that rain, no family, no friends, and nothing Iranian? Yes, yes, I think so; for a time I’d make up for all the other. For a while, of course not forever.
It was the first time he had confronted the real problem looming between them. Our Iran’s gone forever, the old one, the Shah one. Never mind that perhaps the new will be better. She’ll adapt and so will I. I speak Farsi and she’s my wife and Jared’s powerful. If we have to leave temporarily, I’ll make up for the temporary parting, no problem there. The future’s still rosy and good and I love her so very much and bless God for her… The fire was almost finished now and he smelled the comforting, burned wood fragrance and, with it, a thread of her perfume. The cushions still held the indentations where they had lain and though he was totally satisfied and spent, he ached for her. She’s really one of the houris, the spirits of Paradise, he thought sleepily. I’m in her spell and that’s wonderful, I’ve no complaints and if I died tonight I know what Paradise is like. She’s wonderful, Jared’s wonderful, in due course her children will be wonderful and her family…
Ah, family! Family looks after family, that’s the law, I have to do what Valik asked, like it or not. Have to, her father made that clear. The last of the embers spluttered and, in dying, momentarily blazed up. “What’s so important about a few spares and a few rials?” he asked the flames.
The flames did not answer him.
Monday - February, 12
Chapter 14
AT TABRIZ ONE: 7:12 A.M. Charlie Pettikin was fitfully asleep, curled up on a mattress on the floor under a single blanket, his hands tied in front of him. It was just dawn and very cold. The guards had not allowed him a portable gas fire and he was locked into the section of Erikki Yokkonen’s cabin that would normally be a storeroom. Ice glistened on the inside of the panes of glass in the small window. The window was barred on the outside. Snow covered the sill.
His eyes opened and he jerked upright, startled, not knowing where he was for the moment. Then his memory flooded back and he hunched against the wall, his whole body aching. “What a damned mess!” he muttered, trying to ease his shoulders. With both hands he awkwardly wiped the sleep out of his eyes, and rubbed his face, feeling filthy. The stubble of his beard was flecked with gray. Hate being unshaved, he thought.
Today’s Monday. I got here Saturday at sunset and they caught me yesterday morning. Bastards!