A Dead Man in Malta (19 page)

Afterwards, Mrs Ferreira returned to the
fenkata
. It was her
fenkata
and she was never one to shirk her duties. The St John Ambulance ladies were distributed around the tablecloths, sitting with the families whose guests they had been and exchanging vows of eternal friendship and repeated visits which became even more fervent as the glasses of alcoholic lemonade went down. At a certain point the band struck up, the nurses put away their rabbit bones and took off their shoes and began to dance, and the picnic became, in the words, but not necessarily disapproving words, of one of the English St John ladies, ‘positively Bacchanalian’. In the midst of the revels Seymour suddenly saw Luigi, allowed out of jail, under the watchful eye of Inspector Lucca, and the still more watchful eye of Suzie, to play in the band. Luigi was still entirely bewildered but, now in his best, cleaned-up suit, was prepared to blow his heart out for the occasion.

Lucca, benign, but fearful of the opprobrium he knew he was going to suffer from the Ferreira clan, the inhabitants of Birgu, the Maltese generality and probably, once Herr Backhaus had reported home, the German one as well, timidly plucked up courage to ask Mrs Ferreira for a dance. Mrs Ferreira, ever generous and eager to believe the best of people, was prepared on this occasion to waive the usual Maltese treatment for someone they considered a traitor, a knife in the back, and, after consideration, consented. Lucca was, after all, Maltese and from Birgu; and perhaps would do better another time.

Another person who was present was Mr Vasco’s brother. He had just been visiting Mr Vasco and reported, with astonishment and some concern, that his brother was unusually quiet. He attributed this, to her surprise, to the influence of Chantale. ‘He always had a soft spot for Arabs,’ he said. ‘He used to say that they were only doing what we ought to be doing. I told him that if that meant doing what Paolo had done, he could count me out. I was a bit surprised that he didn’t bite my head off.’

At one point in the proceedings Mrs Wynne-Gurr was observed talking to Melinda. ‘I was quite wrong,’ Felix heard her saying. Felix was astounded; he had never heard her use such an expression before and thought, first, that he had misheard and then, second, that she wasn’t well. Sophia said, however, that it was big of her to say so. She said that it was a very un-English thing to do, and she asked Felix if possibly his mother was not entirely English. Felix, who had hitherto taken his mother’s and his own Englishness for granted, was somewhat taken aback. However, he applied to his father who said that there was some Welsh and Scottish and Irish blood in the family, as there was in most English people. ‘We’re all pretty mixed up by now.’

‘Like Malta,’ said Sophia, relieved.

The Arab issue was weighing on her, as it was on the whole Ferreira family. The Ferreiras had at once closed ranks around Mrs Ferreira but also, feeling some sense of guilt, around Paolo, too. Indeed, Sophia suddenly started to take up cudgels on behalf of the Arabs. ‘Another lost cause!’ said Grandfather, and that started the father-and-mother— in fact, grandfather— of a quarrel ferocious even by the standards of Grandfather—Sophia disputes. Somehow, however, it cleared the air and they took to visiting Paolo together, both in his prison cell and later in the special hospital to which he was transferred.

Felix, probably put off by his mother, had never been one for causes lost or otherwise, but now revised his position, having come across Sophia in tears one day. He had, in fact, revised
all
his positions as a result of the Maltese holiday; as, indeed had Sophia.

They handed in their projects on time and both did very well. Sophia had amended her original thesis and now drew attention to the Victoria Lines inside
everybody
, thus earning from her teachers commendation on the balanced view she had developed recently, an observation which made Grandfather choke over his (English) tea. Felix’s project had transformed itself, too, into something like a work-study of hospitals, ancient and modern, which left even Mrs Wynne-Gurr shaken.

The real fruit of the change in emphasis came years later after he had completed his medical studies and then switched unexpectedly to hospital administration, in which he was astonishingly successful.

His new work required him to visit St George’s Hospital at Hyde Park Corner where he ran into Sophia again. Sophia had found, as had so many bright Maltese girls, that about the only job open to her was as a nurse, and she had been sent to London for her training. There, as well as taking up once more with Felix, she took up the cause of female suffrage; where she met again Mrs Wynne-Gurr, now a prominent lady in the cause, as well as being an experienced knocker-on and opener-up of doors. Some of which benefited Sophia considerably. They were altogether a formidable family team.

Sophia remained in touch with Chantale and continued to give her the benefit of her thinking. And Felix remained in touch with Seymour. He found that the political skills Seymour had honed through years of experience of working with the Byzantine processes of Scotland Yard were an invaluable source of advice in his struggle with the no less Byzantine processes of health care.