Great Eastern Land by D. J. Taylor

Author:D. J. Taylor
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504015219
Publisher: Open Road Media

12. Hero Takes a Fall

It is nearly dusk. Looking out of my study window into the failing light I can see Caro sitting, quite motionless, in the middle of the garden. From time to time he will scramble to his feet and walk in a preoccupied manner around the conservatory but for the last half-hour at least he has scarcely moved a muscle. He has been like this all day, and for the greater part of the previous day. For all I know he may have spent the night out there, sitting cross-legged in the centre of the lawn, head buried on his knees, for it was in this posture that I left him late in the evening and discovered him again early the next morning.

There is a simple explanation of this uncharacteristic behaviour. Aziz has gone away. I cannot say that I find this especially surprising – indeed I rather welcome it – but its effect on Caro has been disconcerting in the extreme and the stimulus to a number of distressing scenes. Two afternoons ago I was working in the conservatory when the sound of scampering footsteps over the grass and the furious rattling of the door heralded his arrival, rather out of breath and full of silent anger.

‘He has gone.’

‘Who has gone?’

‘Aziz. He has gone. You have sent him away.’

‘I have not sent him away. Why would I wish to send him away?’

Caro, expecting some instant confession, a reluctant admission of guilt, is rather taken aback by this. He peers suspiciously at my desk.

‘You have sent him away. You are jealous of us.’

‘Do not be ridiculous. What makes you think he has gone away? I saw him not two hours since.’

‘I know he has gone away. I know it is because of you. You have broken my heart.’ And Caro, who has gone very red in the face, bursts suddenly into tears, holding his knuckles over his eyes and making shrill keening noises.

Investigation revealed a number of inalienable facts, several plausible hypotheses and a fairly obvious conclusion. A search of the garden shed, in which Aziz kept his tools and in which he was assumed to sleep (certainly he was provided with no other accommodation) produced not so much as a pair of shears; the gardening implements had all disappeared, along with the canvas holdall in which Aziz kept all his earthly possessions. A search of the house and its environs revealed that a certain amount of food had been taken from the kitchen and that a pair of blue ankle socks, cut raggedly into shreds, had been placed beneath a table in the hall. The sight of the socks reduced Caro to a state of quite inconsolable misery.

The gardener, summoned to give his account of the departure, was unhelpful: a resigned, elderly man – his face the colour of teak – who seemed contemptuous of enquiry. No, he had not seen Aziz that morning. No, he had not observed him in the village, or playing dice in the bazaar.

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