‘I shall dress up and just go; that’s what I’ll do,’ Sango murmured while knotting his tie.
His coat lay on the table beside the invitation. He had almost forgotten how nice it felt to be neatly dressed and to smell of talcum powder.
‘Amusa, are you in?’
The question was followed by a knock and Aina came into the room.
‘Aina! Who showed you my place?’
‘You don’t worry about me, so I say let me come and find you.’ She was enjoying his embarrassment.
‘Very kind of you.’
She sat down without being asked, familiarly, possessively. ‘Since I came out of prison, you don’t care to send me anything.’
‘Like what?’ Sango asked, straightening his tie.
‘Twenty years is not for ever, Amusa. I have come out of jail. I didn’t die there —’
‘Come to the point, Aina. You always go round and round. Always. When you want paper for wrapping, you go round. When —’
‘I want you to help me because . . . I am pregnant!’
‘What!’ All the drowsiness vanished from his eyes. Even First Trumpet got out of bed and opened the window. The bed was too narrow for one, but it was the only one in the room and he and Sango used it in turn. When they returned in the early hours of the morning after an all-night vigil at some den, they cared for little else than to crawl in there and remain till morning. This evening, Sango was sacrificing his usual all-night stand for the pleasure of Beatrice’s company. He looked at Aina and said: ‘So you’re pregnant. And you think I am the father —’
‘Since that night at the beach, I have not been feeling well. I didn’t want to come till I was sure.’
‘Enough!’
Sango did not wish to be reminded of that night when he had walked with her in the moonlight, when she had tried to be kind to him because his band had nowhere to go for practice.
‘My mother is prepared to take you to court to claim damages if you refuse to marry me.’ She kept her eyes on him and smiled. ‘Perhaps you’ll let us have about ten pounds to maintain ourselves till the child is born.’
‘At a time like this! And you have the guts to smile. Oh, what a fool I’ve been!’
‘But everybody knows you’re my lover, Amusa; it’s only you that keep making a fuss. What’s in it, after all?’
‘So every time I raise my head in the world, every time I collect a few hard-earned pounds, you, Aina, come and stand in my way – with a new misfortune! Look, do you know this is blackmail? I could take you to the police – they know your record.’
‘I’m not afraid of them. What do I care?’
Which was not the same for Sango. He cared for Beatrice the Second – so much that she must not sully her ears with this nonsense. And there was his mother to think of. He had heard nothing as yet from her. This was a bad situation, whichever way he looked at it. There was no way out.
‘I’ll give you what I can now, Aina. And I beg you to keep away from me – for good! The baby cannot be mine, and you know it! I’m helping you because . . . well, because of memories!’
She took the money – all he had saved – and First Trumpet turned as she was leaving.
‘What are you going to do, Sango?’
‘The child is not mine! Certainly not, and she knows it. If that girl continues to pester me, I shall . . .’
‘Kill her? Then you’ll hang. For such an irresponsible creature, too! The law doesn’t ask about that. At the same time, you cannot afford a second scandal. Your mother, for instance: have you thought of her?’
‘But I have no more money! Something must be done. I know she’ll come again. Someone is behind this scheme!’
‘We’ve got to think it over,’ said First Trumpet. ‘You’d better hurry. You’re getting late for your appointment.’
Sango thought First Trumpet sounded as if he himself were personally affected. He was a good friend.