Leonard sat below the hotel veranda and watched for suspicious characters as the noise of a disco at the best hotel on Tombeau Bay floated in the air. It annoyed Albert. He came out and swore. He couldn’t afford the lights and the hi-fi system. One day he would. Now he was thinking about a swimming pool. The watchman’s shack would have to go.
He said, ‘Okay?’ to Leonard and went back to the bar. He had some interesting guests from England. They drank whisky and were very informative. They had visited America and Australia and knew a lot about mining. They were in Mauritius to meet a man about bauxite, and were full of ideas.
Odette came and sat with her brother. She noticed different things. She ignored the noise of the disco and listened to the sea as it broke along the shore. She sniffed the air. The smell of burning rubber, salt, Leonard. She leant back, closed her eyes and sighed.
‘We’re lucky,’ she said.
‘Lucky?’
‘Yes.’ She opened her eyes and pointed. ‘Look…’
‘At what?’
‘At what we’ve got!’ She raised her voice.
Leonard laughed. He didn’t see anything. If she’d pointed at something different or something they owned – she didn’t. She was satisfied with forgiving the people who had forced them there and saying, ‘There’re people who’d give anything for this. You know some of them too.’
‘I don’t!’
‘You do and know you do. In Roche Bois, remember?’ She looked into his eyes. ‘You’re a liar.’
‘Don’t call me that…’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m not!’
Odette laughed.
‘Haven’t you got anything to do?’ Leonard raised his voice. ‘I’m working.’
‘You call this work?’
‘Yes! Where’d you think we’d be without it? We wouldn’t have the beach and you wouldn’t be able to come up here and point at what you think we’ve got.’
‘Leonard…’ She put her hand on his and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry.’
He grunted, stood up and walked around the veranda, turned the corner, waved to the kitchen staff and checked around the front. Nothing was happening. The road was quiet. The noise of the last record being played at the disco drifted down. He imagined the dancers and walked back to the beach.
The dawn sky was the colour of a mullet’s nose. Two men walked along the beach carrying plastic bags.
‘That’s the place,’ said one.
‘You sure?’ said the other.
The first nodded. ‘The third from those trees. I wrote it down. Look!’ He had a piece of paper.
‘You’re right. Well done!’
‘Ssh…’
The place was the hotel. The two men hid themselves in the shadows of a banana tree and talked about the watchman. ‘No problem,’ said the first. ‘He’s only an Ilois. He’ll be asleep.’
The second man laughed. ‘Good old Ilois,’ he said.
‘Yeah.’
Leonard snored. He’d stayed up to watch until three o’clock and then gone to bed. Jimmie had a restless night but didn’t bother him. The two men crept past the shack, climbed the steps to the hotel veranda and inspected a window.
All the windows were barred with screens of scrolled iron. They tried a door. It was locked. They looked up at the guests’ rooms. Some of these had open windows, but were out of reach. ‘Come on. We’ll check the kitchen. This way.’
A kitchen window was open.
‘Beautiful!’
The two men climbed up and into the hotel. They trod carefully, past the cookers, sinks and piles of vegetable peelings to the dining room. They took shallow breaths and cocked their ears. The noise of the sea on the reefs and shore, the sound of a bedspring twanging. A gurgle through the water pipes, a mosquito whining through the reception area. Tables and chairs. A clock ticked. ‘Over there,’ whispered one of the men, and he pointed.
‘Where?’
‘There!’
‘Beautiful…’
Rows of bottles stood on mirrored shelves. Rum, whisky, brandy, gin, wine, beer. ‘See?’
The men filled their bags with bottles. ‘Let’s take the cigarettes.’
“Course we’ll take them. Idiot.’
‘Idiot? Me?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Look!’
‘Ssh…’
The bottles chinked together. The men held the bags close to their bodies. Something surprising in a dream shook Leonard awake. ‘Where?’ he said, sat up and remembered.
The colour of the light was changing in subtle and washy ways. Leonard heard a noise. Footsteps, voices, chinking. He looked across the shack. Odette was asleep. Sometimes she talked in her sleep but never with a man’s voice. ‘Ssh,’ he heard, and, ‘careful. There’s a fence there.’
‘Where?’
‘Watch it!’
Watch what? He wondered, stood up and put his head outside. The men were crossing the grass below the shack, about to hop the fence that bordered the beach.
‘Hey!’ he yelled, and ran towards them. ‘What are you doing?’ Odette woke up.
‘Look who’s here!’ said one of the men.
‘Oh, beautiful…’
‘STOP!’ Leonard reached the men. A fist hit him in the mouth. Lights exploded in his eyes, he fell over, a foot took him in the side and another in the head. ‘Bloody Ilois,’ he heard, and, ‘Bastard. You didn’t have to wake up.’
‘HEY!’ Odette yelled. She ran from the shack. She was naked. The two men looked at each other. Leonard groaned. He tried to stand up but another foot kicked him. A trickle of blood dribbled over his chin. One of his teeth fell out and lay in the sand.
‘HEY!’ Odette picked up a piece of driftwood. Bent nails stuck out of it. She spaced her legs apart and waved it over her head. The men licked their lips. They didn’t know what to do. Odette yelled, ‘ALBERT! QUICKLY!’
Albert didn’t come. Leonard groaned. One of the men said, ‘Where is he then?’ and moved towards her. He put his bag down. The other man did the same. They looked at each other and back at her.
‘What are you going to do?’ one said.
‘Yeah,’ said the other, ‘before we do something to you!’
‘Shall we?’
‘Why not? I haven’t had a piece for days.’
‘ALBERT!’ She waved the driftwood. Her breasts had big nipples, ‘ALBERT!’
‘Albert?’ said one of the men. ‘You know I don’t think he’s coming. He’s probably tucked up nice and warm, like you should be.’ He winked. ‘Eh?’
‘ALBERT!’ Leonard tried to move, ‘QUICKLY!’
A hotel light came on, a door slammed, the men blinked, looked back at each other and ran off.
At breakfast, Albert was sorry about Leonard’s injuries but not enough not to shout. He banged a fist on the table and narrowed his eyes. He had a headache.
‘You’re the watchman! It’s your job! That’s hundreds of rupees’ worth they stole.’
Odette stuck up for her brother. ‘He did the best he could. We both did. What do you expect?’
‘Better. Nothing like this happened when Jo was here. Twelve years he worked for me – nothing.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Leonard. ‘It won’t happen again.’
‘You bet…’
Jimmie wriggled out of Odette’s arms and chased a dog down the beach.
‘Because if it does it’ll be the last time. Understand?’
Leonard understood.
‘Good.’ Albert was calm now, but gave his voice an edge. ‘Good.’
Leonard nodded and Odette took his hand. He felt bad, and later, when she said she’d cook a favourite food, he just shrugged and she saw in his face an old bloody look. The look from walls he’d sat on, and life in Tombeau, Cassis, Roche Bois, Peros Banhos and Diego Garcia, in that order.