THE MAN STANDING before her bore little resemblance to the man that departed from her home more than three months before. Dressed in casual attire - khaki shirt, shorts to match, and brown sandals - his swept-back blond hair was long and needed attention. A deep tan hued his face and body; a body that had more than filled out again to its former proportions. It was the old Lechaim, Eva decided although he now looked more Nordic than English.
“Well, don't I get a kiss!”
“Lechaim!” she exclaimed in delight and threw herself into his arms. “It's lovely to see you again” She hugged him warmly and gave him a lingering kiss. “Why didn't you let us know you were coming?”
Carlos appeared behind her in the doorway. “Lechaim, my friend! Welcome! Welcome!” he said as the two men embraced.
“Tell us what you've been doing all this time?” Eva demanded as the three of them walked into the house together.
The children met him in the hall. “Uncle Lechaim!” they both shouted in unison as they hugged him too. Then they were off again to vex Leo some more. As Lechaim passed the craggy Filipino still tinkering, but with Carlos' car this time, the man beamed a smile through his gums. “Morning, sir!”
“Leo, my friend!” Lechaim acknowledged stopping to chat with the old man for a moment. “Problems?”
“No, sir! Just checking! Did you have any trouble with the car, sir?”
“No, right as rain, Leo!” Lechaim lied. “You did a good job!”
Leo smiled his gratitude and then watched the big man move off to join the others. Leo went back to his work happier of heart despite the boys who were hovering around him.
Sitting with Carlos and Eva by the pool, Lechaim then told them of his adventures but left out the part about the little girl whose face had been miraculously healed. He had still not come to terms with that himself so he could hardly expect them to understand.
“But who were they?” Eva asked when he finished.
“I'm not quite sure. Nobody would tell me anything!”
“The NDF probably!” Carlos exclaimed. “You have to watch yourself with them especially being a foreigner. How come they let you go?”
“Who are the NDF?” Eva asked.
Carlos explained, “They're an outlawed political organization - they and the MNLF!” Carlos saw more questions in his wife's eyes so he expounded. “The Moro National Liberation front...they're a body seeking autonomy for Muslim Filipinos!”
“And the ... what you said before!”
“The NDF, you mean? It stands for the National Democratic Front. Basically, it's a communist-led insurgency group.” Carlos paused for reflection and then said, “I didn't know they were operating this far north though.”
Lechaim remarked, “They didn't carry any weapons, at least none that I could see.”
Carlos repeated his original question to Lechaim, “Anyway, how come they let you go?”
“Why shouldn't they? They just wanted someone to tend to the sick man.”
“Did they know who you are?” Eva asked. She was one of Lechaim's biggest fans.
Lechaim smiled as he answered her. “Oh, yes, they knew!” Then he joked, “They weren't there for any autographs though!”
Eva was not convinced. “But it seems incredible that they didn't demand a ransom or something?”
“She has a point!” Carlos said in support of his wife.
Just then one of Eva's house girls arrived with a tray containing a pot of coffee and some mangoes neatly sliced.
“Thank you” Eva acknowledged to the young nubile girl who kept flashing her eyes in Lechaim's direction, but he was oblivious to her as he gazed into the distance contemplating his friends' comments. It had never occurred to him that his life could have been in danger. Apart from Lothar's initial aggression, Lito and his men had been courteous and polite.
“And this man, John Devlin! Where's he now?” Carlos asked when the fawning maid had gone.
“Back in Manila! In fact, I dropped him off on the way through!”
As Lechaim spoke, he recalled the seedy-looking club that John Devlin had disappeared into after Lechaim had driven him to Manila. The man had constantly been on Lechaim’s mind in the two weeks that he had known him. It had taken John Devlin three days to recover from his delirium and a further two days before he would speak to Lechaim. For some reason, the man had tried to avoid Lechaim like the plague. It had been Lito who had finally brought them together but Lechaim could still sense John Devlin’s unease. On their drive back to Manila together, a drive that John Devlin was forced to take because it was the only means of transport available, Lechaim had tried to be as friendly as possible. He didn't like the man but he hid his dislike because he was struck by John Devlin's resemblance to Sinead’s uncle. Lechaim meant to learn as much as he could about John Devlin. Any animosity between them would only hinder Lechaim’s plan to win the man’s trust. This was important because John Devlin didn't just look like Monsignor Michael Cronin, it was he, at least physically, although the two men were poles apart otherwise.
“She's forgotten the sugar!” Eva exclaimed, breaking in on Lechaim’s thoughts, as she rose and went in search of the sweetener. She arrived in the kitchen in time to answer the phone hanging there on the wall, which picked just that moment to demand attention.
“Work!” she called out to Carlos through the window, and Carlos got up.
“Won't be a second!” Carlos informed his friend. As Carlos went to see what new crisis had arisen, he cursed inwardly. The weekend and they still wouldn't leave him in peace.
Sitting alone Lechaim had time to reflect some more on John Devlin. There was no question in his mind now that John Devlin was the twin brother of Michael Cronin. It was the only logical explanation. The physical appearance and the fact that John Devlin came from the same place as Michael Cronin, namely Ireland, was just too much of a coincidence. When John Devlin told him on their drive back that his birthplace was in Armargh, that had been the real 'clincher' for Lechaim. In normal circumstances, Lechaim knew that the chances of his meeting up with the possible twin brother of someone he had recently become related to in Ireland way out in a province in the Philippines, was fanciful. Yet, nothing about Lechaim's life to date had been normal. He was convinced now that he was on some sort of preordained path that was leading him somewhere. The only question was where?
Over the past few months, Lechaim had given his life much thought. The dreams, the battle at the abbey, the little girl's miraculous healing, and now the meeting with the Monsignor's look alike. There was also the mystery of his car, which had stopped outside the little girl's home and then started again for no apparent reason. It added up to only one thing although he was reluctant to admit it. He was not in charge of his life any longer, something else was.
One thing was for certain. In some way, Michael Cronin was part of the conundrum. Lechaim’s letter to the Monsignor in Rome which he had mailed days before would, he hoped, elicit a response that might provide some answers. Enclosed with his letter he had sent the monsignor a photograph of John Devlin, which Lechaim had taken while the man, had been ill in bed.
Lechaim realized that he might be grasping at straws. Yet, it was a fact that the monsignor had been abandoned on the steps of St. Brendan’s Abbey as a child. Because Michael’s parentage had never been established, John could very well be his twin. Although he, himself, was convinced that this was so, he didn’t think Michael would thank him for it if such proved to be the case. John Devlin was the complete antithesis of Michael Cronin in every way.
Carlos' voice intruded on his thoughts. “Sorry,” he said, as he re-entered the room. “Nothing important!” he exclaimed dismissing the phone call with a wave of his hand as not worth mentioning anymore. Eva followed Carlos into the room having located the sugar’s resting place in the kitchen.
As the pair sat down with Lechaim again, Eva asked, “This Lito Moreno! What's he like?”
“Strangely enough, I like him!” In this Lechaim spoke the truth. He had recognized in Lito the lovable rogue that lies beneath the surface in most men, the rascal element that has a charm all its own. The two men had taken to one another immediately. It had even been arranged that they would both meet up again at John Devlin's club sometime during the following week, once Lechaim was settled. The rogue's phone number was now in Lechaim's pocket, but he thought it best not to mention his forthcoming assignation to the Regas. They would only worry.
“And where is he now?” Eva inquired.
“He's in Manila as well. Staying with his brother for a few days!”
“But he's a bandit!” Eva retorted. “Shouldn't you notify the police?”
“He's done no harm to me, and besides, what proof is there that his little band of men belong to any outlaw group.” As he said it, he realized that he wasn't telling them the whole truth. Lito had been buying guns from John Devlin somewhere down south when malaria had stuck John Devlin down. Apparently, it was a recurrence of malaria that John Devlin had contracted in Papua New Guinea. Lechaim thought it best that he keep this information to himself. Again, his friends would only worry. Knowing that it would be pointless trying to defend Lito in Eva's eyes he quickly changed the subject.
“Look you two! Would it be all right if I stayed here for a few weeks?”
“All right!” Eva exclaimed joyfully. “Of course, it's all right!” Then she had a thought. “You'll be staying for Christmas then?”
“Yes, I'll be here over Christmas!” he confirmed.
“We'll be together just like last year!” Eva commented and the happiness showed in her eyes. Then the memory of the Christmas before in England came back to her. Lechaim had everything to look forward to then but now? Wondering whether she had been tactless in mentioning last Christmas, Lechaim quickly dispelled her anxiety with his cheerful reply.
“Just like last year! Wouldn't miss it for the world! Break out that mistletoe, girl! There's going to be some kissing done!”
Eva took Carlos' hand in hers and their eyes met. Like hers, his eyes radiated their approval and they both turned back to their friend.
“Oh, I nearly forgot!” Eva suddenly said bounding up as she spoke. “We have some letters for you!”
“Letters?”
“Yes!” Carlos said as Eva went to get them. “From Ireland and your mother”
Eva soon returned and put a number of letters in his hands.”
“None from the army?” Lechaim queried searching through his mail. It was a rhetorical question because he could see that there were none, the letters being from Maureen and his mother alone. As he started to read through them, Lechaim wondered why the army hadn't been in contact but it was only a passing thought. The letters before him filled him with guilt. In the whole of his time in the Philippines, more than four months now, he had never once written to anyone. His mother would understand because Lechaim had seldom written when he had been away but the Cronins would think his behaviour odd, if not downright rude. Yet, he knew that he could offer no excuse.
It was when he was reading the third letter that he broke his silence, “Sinead’s Uncle's had some sort of mental breakdown!”
Carlos and his wife were startled to hear Lechaim use his wife's name. Never once since his arrival in the Philippines had he spoken her name or talked about her.
“A mental breakdown?” Eva said, “The Monsignor, you mean! Is he all right?”
“Apparently he's recovered now but he was very ill there for a while!”
Lechaim finished reading his mail and placed the letters back inside their envelopes. Then he remembered the letter he had posted that morning to the Monsignor. In view of the news regarding the monsignor's illness, Lechaim wondered whether he had done the right thing. Would the monsignor be sufficiently well enough to deal with the possibility that he might have a brother on this side of the world? For that matter, would the Monsignor appreciate knowing that he had a brother that could only be described as a sleaze? Lechaim at once regretted writing but it was too late now.
“Would you mind if I phone England and Ireland later?” Lechaim asked.
“Phone who you want!” Carlos said.
Eva then thought of some news of her own that she had for him. “By the way, Lechaim, Angelina will be staying with us for Christmas!”
“What! You mean little Angelina, your sister?”
“She's not little anymore!” Carlos chuckled.
“That's great!” Lechaim replied. “It will be like old times.” It had been more than twelve years since he had seen Eva's sister, at the Regas’ wedding, in Buenos Aires.
“How old would she be now?”
“Twenty!” Eva replied. “She was twenty last week!”
God! Lechaim thought. How the years fly by!