LECHAIM SHOOK LITO'S hand and held it for a moment. “Well, my friend, thanks for everything?”
“No, I am the one to thank you!” Lito replied, flashing a smile at the girl on his arm, a permanent fixture there these days.
Angelina left Lito for a moment and gave Lechaim a hug and a kiss. “Please take care Lechaim!” she said. “Don't try to be a hero again!”
Lechaim laughed and retorted, “Not likely! I'll leave the heroics to old Lothar here!” He then turned to the German who was standing about as usual with that impassive look on his face as little Jose tried to climb up one of his legs.
“Take care Lickum!”
“I will!” Lechaim replied as he took the hand that the German offered. He and Lothar could never be real friends for they were poles apart in their natures, but they respected each other as fighting men and both knew it. “You look after them, Lothar!”
“No worry, Lickum! They okay!” he responded implying that the Regas would be quite safe while he was around.
“Well, you two scalawags!” he said to the boys, “You behave yourselves, you hear!”
Jose and Eduardo flung themselves into his arms. “When will you come back, Uncle?” Eduardo asked.
“One day, my young friend. One day!”
“We'd better go!” Carlos said, “Otherwise you'll miss your plane. We also have to allow for the traffic!”
Lechaim's luggage had already been loaded so Leo opened the doors of Carlos' car for them. As Lechaim got in with Carlos and Eva, he said to Angelina who was standing with the others, “Don't forget! Betsy needs a lot of oil!”
“That old car of yours needs more than oil!” she exclaimed.
“It's yours now!” he proclaimed and threw her the keys.
“Oh!” she responded in delight as she saw the old 'bomb' in a new light. “Thank you! Thank you!”
“Well! Isn't that worth another kiss!”
Through the window, she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a real kiss long and deep. As the car pulled away, Lechaim thought to himself, that girl's been practicing. Their waving arms were then lost to sight as the car turned the corner and his trip to the airport had begun.
Lechaim was returning to England for four reasons really. The first was that his holiday had to end sometime and he needed to return to see his mother again. Secondly, he felt that the Regas would be in danger as long as he stayed in the Philippines. Lito and Lothar could only protect them for so long but then what? Thirdly, Lechaim felt that the answer to who was trying to kill him lay in Europe, not in the southern hemisphere. Lastly, he wanted to find out why he had been unable to communicate with Monsignor Michael Cronin either by letter or telephone.
As Leo drove along, Lechaim and Carlos talked between themselves but Eva just stared out the window. Both men were aware that she was crying although she made no noise and was looking away from them. Before the car drew up at the entrance to Manila Airport she dried her eyes with her handkerchief and put on her happy face.
Lechaim lifted his luggage out of the boot for Leo and turned to the old man who smiled back at him with sad eyes. “Take care, my friend, and leave the young girls alone!” Lechaim joked.
Leo took the hand that the Captain offered and shook it. “Goodbye Sir!”
Before Lechaim could reach down to pick up his cases Leo placed something in his hand, a small box. “For you Sir!”
Lechaim was touched by the gesture. “For me, Leo! But you shouldn't have!”
“It's nothing really sir! Just a small gift!”
Lechaim opened the box and found a Saint Christopher medal inside complete with a chain. It was cheap and would have cost only a few pesos but to Lechaim it would always be treasured. In front of Leo he put it around his neck and, his eyes moist, he took the old man's hand again. “You take care of yourself, you hear me!”
“And you sir! and you.”
As Lechaim walked away carrying his cases and Carlos carrying the remainder, he realized just how much he would miss this country and its people.
“That was a surprise!” Carlos said when they had checked Lechaim's luggage in. “About Leo, I mean!”
“We have a present for you as well, Lechaim”, Eva said. She opened her bag and handed him a small brown paper package the size of a book. “No don't open it now” Eva exclaimed as he went to take off the paper. “Do it on the plane!”
“All right!” Lechaim replied. “This is a day for giving things. I have something for you also!” He took from the travel bag on his shoulder a small package and gave it to Carlos. “Open it when I'm gone!”
“They're calling your flight Lechaim!” Carlos said as he noticed the flight details flashing on one of the overhead monitors in the reception area.
“Okay, you two! Time to go!" Carlos and he embraced and then shook hands. “Look after yourself!”
“I will Carlos said, “and take care of yourself too! Remember what Angelina said. No heroics!”
“No way!” Lechaim said in mock horror. Turning to Eva, he found her crying again and he took her in his arms. “Hey, kid! I'm only going away for now. I'll be back!”
She looked into his eyes and he realized that she knew. “Will you?” she asked. “Will you be coming back!” He never lied to her and he wasn't about to now so he changed the subject.
“You have a wonderful man there! Mind you look after him!”
“I will,” Eva said, “But who's going to look after you?”
Lechaim fingered the medal around his neck. “Saint Christopher, of course!”
Forty minutes later the Regas watched as the 747 climbed away into the clear blue sky taking their friend with it. Arm in arm they made their way silently back to the entrance where they found Leo and the car waiting. When Leo had wound his way back onto Roxas Boulevard Eva remembered the package Lechaim had given them. Unwrapping the brown paper, Eva found it contained an old shoe box with a bulky brown envelope inside which had scrawled across it, “TO BE OPENED IN THE EVENT OF MY DEATH”. In addition, there was a small red case that she opened. Inside she found a small card with Lechaim's handwriting scribbled on it. “Keep this, it might be worth something one day.” She took the red ribboned medal with the words “FOR VALOUR” inscribed on it out of the box and held it reverently as she turned to Carlos and their eyes met. She knew then that her worst fears had been realized. Their friend would not be coming back to them.
At that moment, many miles to the east, in the sky above, Lechaim pulled his window shade down a little to keep the glare out of his eyes as he gazed down at the endless choppy water of the South China Sea. The land he had grown to love was fast disappearing from view and his heart ached for the peace and warmth he had found there. He touched the Saint Christopher medal around his neck and turned it over. On the back was inscribed just one word, “Leo.” Lechaim smiled as he thought of the toothless Filipino that had given him the medal. Its value was of little importance, the thought was everything.
“Orange juice, Captain Lewis!” the pleasant voice of the stewardess inquired from the aisle and he turned to her. She was a girl with Grace Kelly's looks, cool and elegant, but he was immune for now.
“No thank you!” he said. “Will anyone be sitting here?” he then asked as he looked at the empty seat next to him.
“No, Captain, we thought you might like some privacy, seeing who you are and all!”
It was then that Lechaim realized that not only was he leaving behind a country and people that he loved but he was also leaving behind his anonymity. The look of admiration and reverence on her face and those of the passengers around him said it all.
“I see! Many thanks!”
“All part of the service, Captain!”
Lechaim could see that she was flirting with him and wondered whether she saw the fame or the man.
He did not encourage her, however, and she reluctantly departed promising to be back later to check on him. Her perfume lingered in the air and her femininity brought Maxine to mind. It had been nearly two weeks since he and Lothar had rescued her and she was now back in Europe. It was strange how much she seemed to have changed. He could only surmise what had happened to her in the little man's hands after he had abducted her. Maxine had not even confided in Eva and her withdrawal within herself, her inclination to weep long and often, and her reluctance to talk had got on everyone's nerves. Lechaim recalled the scene she made when Lechaim had wanted to inform the police that she had been kidnapped and worse. “No! No! No! she had insisted. In a way, he was thankful that she didn't want to bring the authorities into the equation. There were a number of bodies to explain away and his involvement would certainly have meant more media attention which he didn't need at this time.
Lechaim had tried to understand and make allowances for Maxine, but, he had to admit, her departure three days before had come as a relief. Perhaps a change of environment and a fresh start was all she needed, he thought. Lechaim had his doubts, however. Once again, there had been another scene when he had tried to advise her to seek counseling. For a while there he had almost detected hatred in her eyes, and he had not pursued the matter. Their planned meeting in the next few days in Brighton was not a prospect he was looking forward to with any relish but he tried to make allowances for her attitude and her change of manner. It must have been a shocking ordeal for her if the effect could be so marked, he concluded. When he had asked her where she planned to go to in Europe she had remained vague. “Oh, somewhere that will allow me to think!” He was certain of one thing now though. Maxine would never be an important part of his life now, and, for that matter, she never had been.
He forgot about Maxine as he settled back in his seat and took out the package that Eva had handed him. Taking the wrapping off, he found that it was an expensive Bible in black leather embossed with gold leaf. That would be Eva's idea he thought, and he smiled when he read the inscription she had written on the flyleaf. “To our much- loved friend Lechaim Lewis from Carlos Rega, Eva, and family - May you walk with God always.” He felt the warmth of their love in those words and his homesickness increased. Not for England where he had grown up but rather for the tropical paradise he was leaving behind and the friends in whose company he had spent so many happy weeks.
The Bible fell off his knees onto the cabin floor where it lay half open. Stooping down to pick it up, he saw that it had fallen open at a page where someone, Carlos perhaps, had underlined something in red ink. That was strange, Lechaim thought as he read the underlined passage. Why that particular piece of scripture?
“Anything I can get you, Captain Lewis?” the flirty fair-haired flight attendant asked as she walked by. As she spoke she glanced at the Bible he had open in his hands. Funny, she thought, he didn't look the type and his reputation as a killer of men certainly contradicted his apparent interest in religion.
“A coffee please!”
“Certainly sir!” and she went in search of one.
“What's he like?” one of the other girls in the galley asked.
“Gorgeous and those eyes!”
“Hey! What about letting me serve him later?”
“Maybe!” I'll see!” the fair-haired girl replied but she really intended to keep him for herself.
Returning to Lechaim's side with a cup of coffee, she folded down the tray from the back of the seat before him and placed the cup on it.
“Thank you!” Lechaim said and seeing the name tag on her jacket added, “Victoria!”
“My father is a vicar!” she exclaimed as she glanced at the Bible in his hands and read aloud the underlined text, “And I saw heaven open and behold a pale horse, and he that sat upon him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness, he doth judge and make war.”
“Do you know the passage?”
“Yes!” she replied. Then to prove she was really a good Christian girl despite the bruises on her inner thighs from the co-pilot’s close attention to duty the previous night in her bed, she quoted from memory, “His eyes were as a flame of fire and he had a name written that no man knew but himself.” She then searched her brain for the next bit. “And his name is called the Word of God.”
“I'm impressed!” Lechaim said to her.
She flushed with pleasure. “Never quite understood what it meant though!”
“That makes two of us!”
The pair chatted pleasantly for a few minutes and then she moved on. Turning his attention back to the sea below, Lechaim wondered what lay ahead. Suddenly, he thought of something Father Cameron had once said to him some months ago while he was still in the provinces. It was to do with the game of chess which they had often played together in the priest’s living quarters within the old church that the good Father called home.
“Good chess players are always masters of the endgame, where only a few pieces are left on the board and the result often hinges on the individual player's ability to draw on his knowledge and experience.”
As he looked out he pondered whether his skills would be quite good enough to ensure the ultimate checkmate in the endgame of life and death he was about to embark upon. Pulling his wallet from his pocket, he took out the two photographs, the one of Sinead and the one of her uncle.
Studying Michael Cronin's blurred image once again, he wondered why there had been so much silence from Rome. Even Shaun and Maureen, who had spoken to him earlier that morning by phone, had heard nothing at all. He had not mentioned to the Cronins when he spoke to them that he had written to Michael Cronin regarding John Devlin. In fact, he had not mentioned John Devlin at all to them. He would establish the truth about the man first before he burdened them further.
All in all, it was very strange that the Monsignor had not responded to his letter or communicated with him or his family in any way. There was only one way to solve the mystery and that was to go to Rome himself and find out. That's exactly what he intended to do within the next fortnight or so if some answers were not forthcoming beforehand. He owed that much to his dear wife's memory.
As he thought of Sinead, he began to realize that the numbing effect of being in another country among people that were not a constant reminder of his dead wife was, with every mile, diminishing. As the plane winged its way north into the starkness of an English winter that was as bleak as his heart, he felt her presence more and more until her proximity was almost tangible.