Page 31 of The Last Postcard

‘What in god’s name were you doing, stepping in front of my car like that?’

He said it lightly, and looked amused, tolerant, but still I was wary.

‘I did not mean to,’ I said. ‘The sun was in my eyes.’ Ifrahim’s old excuse; the answer of a petty thief.

The man was watching me, his own eyes unfathomable. ‘Mine too,’ he said.

‘¿Cómo te llamas?’ That was the lady, interrupting in clumsy-sounding Spanish.

My swollen lip twitched. ‘Del Potro,’ I told her, without breaking the man’s gaze. ‘Alejandro del Potro.’

Tangier

July 1978

Tangier, 12.7.78

Dear A,

I would be happy to return your case. However, I would like to do so in person. I have a lot of questions. One to start: did you take my letter?

Best,

Sam Hackett

*

12.7.78

Dear Mr Hackett,

To answer your question: yes. I apologize. I can only say that I acted in shock, seeing something again I had long thought lost.

I am afraid it is impossible to meet. I ask you again to consider my request. I am prepared to offer a substantial reward for the return of the writing case. Forgive me for saying so, but it appears you could make use of the money.

Regards,

A

*

Tangier, 13.7.78

Dear A,

Forgive me for saying so, but my financial situation is my own business. The fact of the matter is this: I have something else of yours too, something I believe you will want more than the writing case. What if I said ‘Hotel Continental’ and ‘15’ to you?

Best,

Sam

*

‘What does he mean, “impossible to meet”?’ Sam held the letter away from the sticky bar. ‘It can’t be literally impossible.’

‘Maybe he’s house bound,’ said Roger, pouring out a gin and tonic.

‘Maybe he prefers to remain incognito,’ Bet winked, tapping her cigar.