Tiger, Tiger. Philip Caveney

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СКАЧАТЬ tiger’s head above the doorway seemed to have acquired a grin. Harry settled into his familiar seat with a decided feeling of well-being for the world in general, even for Doctor Kalim. Harry was hatching a wicked little plan which involved sending the good doctor a box of Havana cigars. Trimani must have caught on to the Tuan’s feeling of contentment, for he brought the glass of beer with a huge dazzling grin stretched across his dark face. He lit Harry’s cigar for him and received a Havana for himself, along with the more usual fifty-cent tip.

      After a little while, Dennis came in, with his lovely young daughter, Melissa, in tow. She hurried over to Harry’s table while her father sorted out some business at the bar.

      ‘Hello, Uncle Harry!’ She kissed him energetically on the cheek. She always had called him ‘uncle,’ though, of course, they were really not related.

      He beamed at her.

      ‘And how are you?’ he enquired. ‘Found anything to occupy yourself yet?’

      ‘I’m afraid not. Everything’s so quiet around here!’ Melissa had recently finished school in Singapore and was anxious now to do a little living. Harry sympathized with her. There really wasn’t that much for an eighteen-year-old to get involved in here, the most energetic preoccupation being the acquisition of a suntan. That was a novelty that wore off after a few days.

      ‘I expect you’re itching to get back to England, aren’t you?’

      ‘I should say so!’

      ‘Will you go to university or something?’

      She shook her head.

      ‘No thanks. I’ve had enough schooling to last a lifetime. What I want is a career and a lot of fun, but not necessarily in that order … Oh, but Uncle Harry, I wish you were coming back with us. Writing letters just won’t be the same somehow.’

      ‘Yes, well, I think I’ve already had this conversation with Dennis …’

      ‘Somebody mention my name?’ Dennis arrived carrying drinks, one of which he passed to Melissa.

      ‘Good heavens, what is she drinking now?’ cried Harry, in mock horror.

      ‘Gin fizz,’ announced Melissa. ‘And don’t forget, it’s legal now. I was eighteen last week, in case you’ve forgotten.’ She winked slyly. ‘Age of consent,’ she murmured.

      Harry laughed. He was extremely fond of Melissa and would accept things from her that he would not have tolerated in others. She was a lean, very attractive girl, with thick dark hair and enchanting hazel eyes; very like her mother in looks, but infinitely more outgoing in her personality. Harry’s affection for her was, of course, purely platonic, almost paternal. In many ways it was similar to the relationship that he had with Pawn’s grandson, Ché.

      ‘You’re a lucky fellow,’ he told Dennis. ‘Lovely wife, lovely daughter. Where is Kate, by the way?’

      ‘Oh, you know her. More content to sit at home with a good book. Can’t say I blame her really. There’s not much here if you don’t enjoy a drink.’

      Harry nodded.

      ‘I’ve a bone to pick with you,’ he said.

      ‘Oh?’ Dennis looked wary. ‘Why, what’s up?’

      ‘You know very well what’s up, so don’t give me the wide-eyed innocent look. There was a certain Muslim doctor round at my place today …’

      ‘Ah.’

      ‘You may know him. Drives about in a battered old Ford.’

      ‘Ah. Yes, well …’

      ‘What on earth are you both on about?’ demanded Melissa.

      Dennis smiled sheepishly.

      ‘I think your Uncle Harry is referring to ah … Doctor Kalim … who I just happened to bump into this morning … and I may have, inadvertently of course … happened to mention Harry’s little upset at the courts yesterday. I mean, not even thinking that Kalim, as a doctor, might want to ah, investigate the situation …’

      ‘Oh really, Daddy! Have you been spreading nasty rumours about poor Uncle Harry? Anyone can see he’s fitter than you are.’

      ‘Well that’s not saying very much,’ observed Dennis drily.

      ‘You must remember that Uncle Harry is sixty-eight years old.’

      ‘Sixty-seven,’ corrected Harry.

      ‘Exactly! And if I’m as healthy and downright good-looking as he is when I’m sixty-eight …’

      ‘Sixty-seven!’

      ‘… then I’ll feel very pleased with myself.’

      ‘Hear, hear,’ enthused Harry. ‘For that, I think you deserve another gin fizz. Dennis, will you have another drink?’

      ‘Me? Thought I was in the doghouse.’

      ‘Well, we all make mistakes from time to time. Actually, I rather enjoyed Kalim’s little visit. Haven’t had a good row in ages. So, what’ll it be?’

      ‘Well, nothing for the moment, old chap. I’ve got to pop over to my office and pick up some papers. But I’ll certainly take you up on it when I get back. Meanwhile, perhaps you wouldn’t mind keeping this young lady out of mischief.’

      ‘Delighted. Can’t you let the papers ride for a while, though?’

      ‘Afraid not. Some of us have to work around here, you know. See you in a bit.’

      He went out of the room.

      ‘Poor Daddy,’ observed Melissa thoughtfully. ‘He’s had rather a lot on his plate lately. I expect he’ll be glad to get back to England for a rest.’

      Harry motioned to Trimani, who came hurrying over from the bar.

      ‘One Tiger beer. One … gin fizz, please.’

      ‘Right away, Tuan!’ And he was gone.

      Melissa shook her head.

      ‘Look at the way they run around for you, Uncle Harry. But if anybody else tried to get that kind of service, they’d just be ignored. Why is that?’

      ‘Because I’m a relic, I suppose.’ He shrugged. ‘In my day, that’s how it was always done, nobody thought anything of it. Trimani there, he’s served at this Mess a long time. I expect he remembers the old ways too, but lately he’s been told by a lot of people that he doesn’t have to bow and scrape to the white sahibs anymore, that he’s equal to them, and should they require a drink well, let them jolly well come and ask for one. I don’t suppose any of them bothered to ask him what he’d like to do, but that’s neither here nor there. Still, for all his new freedom, he chooses to keep one memory of the old days alive and that memory is me. Oh, you’re absolutely right, Melissa. Nobody else here gets the same treatment СКАЧАТЬ