Free Water Theatre by Lindsay Clarke Page B

wisdom of the serpent?”
    â€œNow you’re trying to have it both ways,” I protested. “And either way Sibilla doesn’t come through for him. Guerino didn’t find out who his father was.”
    â€œBut was he prepared to pay her price?”
    Looking away, I said, “I suppose you can read it any way you like.”
    â€œAh! Now you are thinking that it is just a story.”
    â€œBut if it’s any consolation, I prefer it to the stories I report out in the real world.”
    â€œAnd of course such stories are more real than mine?”
    â€œBullets are real,” I said. “Cutlass blades are real. Nobody would want to argue with their reality.”
    Gabriella sighed, got up and came back to the table, suddenly businesslike. “Tell me,” – a hint of challenge sharpened her tone – “what do you want with Adam and Marina?”
    I said, “I’m not sure that’s any of your concern.”
    She tapped the table briskly with one finger. “They are my friends. I love them and care for them. I know they feel they have good reason not to trust you.”
    â€œSo you have been talking to them? Now, I mean, since I came?”
    â€œMarina knows you are here, yes.”
    â€œWhere is she?”
    â€œNot far away.”
    â€œIs she here, in the house?”
    â€œYou may be a good journalist, Mr Crowther, but you are also a guest in my home. I do not care to be interrogated by my guests.”
    I said, “I’ve come a long way to see them. I also have a life of my own to live and I’d like to get back to it. So forgive me if I seem impatient. What about Adam – have you spoken to him?”
    â€œNo. He is not… available.”
    â€œWhat does that mean?”
    â€œPrecisely what I said.”
    â€œAnd Marina won’t see me?”
    When she did not answer, I got up, stared back at the villa with its many shuttered windows. “Look, I knew she wouldn’t be exactly thrilled that I’d come, but… It was all so long ago…” I turned and saw Gabriella, upright in her chair, observing me, with both hands resting at the stem of her glass on the marble tabletop. “She must know I wouldn’t have come near her if it wasn’t important.”
    â€œImportant to whom?” Gabriella answered quietly.
    â€œMore important to her than to me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
    â€œBut have you not thought that Marina might have other important matters to attend to at this time? Matters that are none of
your
concern.”
    This did not surprise me. Once I’d learnt that Gabriella had discussed my arrival with Marina, I expected reticence, hostilityeven. So realizing that my frustration stemmed as much from gloomy predictions fulfilled as from the actual obstruction, I changed register. “I wanted to speak to Marina because there are all kinds of sensitivities in what I have to say. I wanted to be sure she got the message clearly. I even hoped she might take it more seriously precisely because I’d chosen to bring the message myself.” I caught the dubious tilt to her gaze. “But perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps it’s better if it comes from someone else.”
    Gabriella nodded thoughtfully. “It seems you must decide whether to trust me.” Then, with a soft winsome twist to her lips, she added, “You have seen, I think, that my legs are free from scales!”
    It was impossible to resist the smile.
    Imagine it then, I thought, the uncovered underworld realm, inverse of all dark expectations, sunlight radiant where only igneous gloom should be, the globes of oranges, sharp lemon waxiness, ripe figs, unseasonable flowering and plenty. No sorrow, no war, no famine, illness, death. No reports to file, no tyranny of deadlines, no news at all, just permanent sensuality and peace.
    â€œFortunately,” I said, “it’s not
my
father