PAO

The Cynic


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spent picnicking in the parklands. She impressed him with her revolutionary ideas of improving social wellbeing through practical morality. And her amazing Persian cuisine. Soval dazzled her with his knowledge of the law. Nita’s friends were artistic and idealistic, cerebral specimens confronting and wrestling with life’s large conundrums. And they were also religious. Righteous in thought and deed. Encouraging Soval to attend the local Bahai spiritual assembly with her, this soon became his primary social outlet and where he felt most at ease. Intellectually, he connected with the Bahai faith and the communal love of all people. Soval readily converted. At this moment in his life, he felt complete. He had achieved honours in his final university law examinations, he had found the woman he truly loved and planned to marry, and he had discovered real spiritual satisfaction in the Bahai faith.

      On a warm June evening on the grassy banks of The Serpentine in Hyde Park he asked for Nita’s hand in marriage. She had paused just long enough in responding to make him concerned, but then accepted gleefully. The future was rosy, and they were both so happy. Disappointingly, Soval’s entire family were ruthlessly and stubbornly unaccepting of his match and forbid him to marry, or visit Goa with Nita. He could not believe his family was so small-minded. He could see that they considered Nita as foreign to them, both in nationality and religion. His parents would not be convinced, and he was equally as pigheaded. Soval and Nita married in a Bahai ceremony within weeks and, as fortune would have it, an opportunity arose to work in the Sedois Islands.

      Soval had initially dreamt of practising law in London but, with time and bitter experience, he had realised that his career path was limited. Being Indian, he was viewed and treated as an outsider. It was irrelevant that he was gifted and well-educated; to most he was simply a boy from the colonies. The community at the Bahai spiritual centre was aware of his plight. Many had experienced the same casual racism, and restricted opportunities for advancement. Nita herself had often expressed a desire to do missionary work. One of her Bahai friends had suggested they consider relocating to the Sedois Islands. It had a tiny fledgling Bahai community on the main island but no presence on the outer islands. Through these connections on La Premiere, a job in the capital, Mitre, was sourced for Soval. He was, after all, a London-trained and qualified lawyer, and this would stand them in good stead on the islands. Nita, all spontaneity and unbridled enthusiasm, was keen to go. Soval was less convinced but, ultimately, he would follow his heart, and his new wife. He also felt that he could, and should, become a man of great standing in this smaller community. These internal considerations of grandeur were no small part in influencing his decision. So, a new life beckoned.

      He continued to meander effortlessly along the La Porte seafront, whistling softly to himself in contentment, distracted by his recollections. Soval was still happily strolling as Nita greeted him from their front verandah, “Hello, Papa, you look like you’ve had a good day.”

      “Yes. Very productive.” He stood on the front step of their house, leant up and kissed her lovingly. “I was just thinking how lucky we are.” Soval enquired about her day.

      “Busy. I had a class with the local girls. Thirteen came today. That is a record.” Her voice was full of cheerful satisfaction.

      “You are a wonder. I’m the luckiest man alive to have found you.”

      “Tut-tut, Soval. We’re both lucky. But hard work is constantly required.”

      Ever the pragmatist, he thought. He mentioned that he continued to be industrious, “I think this will be a good year for us.” Soval reflected on his discussions with his friend Lee. The desired outcome would finally deliver him power and influence, and command respect.

      “I’ve just made tea if you want some.” Nita pointed towards the kitchen. “I’m going to pass by Javette’s house to pick some fresh chili. Ours are not yet ripe.”

      Soval indicated that he would have tea. Before she left, Nita fussed over him, as she did everyone else. She couldn’t help it. Selflessness was innate, almost certainly a combined result of her nature, upbringing, and faith.

      “I might go for a ride on Ajay’s jet ski. It’s such a beautiful evening. Do you know if he’s using it?”

      “I wouldn’t think so, he’s taking his old phone over to some tourists he’s just met. Their phone broke yesterday.” She wandered down the front path and waved. Nita still found her husband full of surprises, generally stubbornly conservative yet sometimes as impulsive as a child.

      “Of course he is.” Soval waved back dismissively, thinking, That boy really needs to grow up.

      Seated comfortably on the verandah, Soval sipped his tea. He noted the stringy high cloud that often predicted strong winds. The change had not arrived yet and the plants in the garden shifted with only a gentle sea breeze, dancing with joy after the heat of the day. Yellow-flowered frangipani trees and red hibiscus bushes swayed rhythmically. Slick green palm fronds flicked side to side, spilling the air off their large smooth leaves.

      He remembered his and Nita’s arrival on La Premiere and the expected promise of great things. His job at the law firm had gone predictably well. The owner was suitably impressed by his work ethic and acumen, and Soval could see promotion to partner soon following. When the time came, he felt unfairly overlooked for a local lawyer who had family connections with the boss. This flagrant rejection still burned him to the core. Sitting on his verandah on La Bajan, he cursed them under his breath. At the time, in an incandescent rage, he had verbally castigated his boss along with his colleagues, and came close to physically assaulting them. This was unlike Soval but years of continued discrimination both in England and now here had taken their toll on his psyche. He had snapped. Hard, and completely. Calling his employer a “stupid island hick,” he spat the words into his face from close proximity. Understandably, this had gravely offended his boss and ruined any potential rise through the ranks. The emotive display would continue to haunt Soval. Others heard about it on the island grapevine and felt that he was belittling them too. Of course, he departed ways with that law firm.

      Confident in his abilities, Soval had started his own legal business in Mitre. Initially, work was hard to come by. His career on La Premiere had stalled before it had really begun. Although eventually he had work and made money, mainly through his connections to Lee’s businesses, he never truly recovered his reputation. He was a marked man within the local legal community.

      Soval drained the remnants of his teacup and raised it to the heavens. He quietly toasted the thought of the power that would be delivered when Lee won the presidential elections. Soval was Lee’s right-hand man, and legal resource.

      My time is coming, he thought, It’s long overdue! Crossing the road to the beach and the waiting jet ski, he rehearsed the prospective title in his head, Attorney-General Soval Pape. He waded out to the jet ski, thrusting his legs forcefully through the shallow water. Climbing aboard, he used his spare key to fire up the machine. Throwing off the mooring rope, Soval revved the engine. He took off faster than he should, and faster than regulations allowed this close to the port, but he was drunk with the promise of power. He negotiated the small waves of the fringing reef and was soon powering through the ocean swell. He felt invigorated as the sea spray whipped and cooled his face, and he smiled joyfully as he headed along the coast into the dusky evening light.

      Chapter 4: Lee

       January 29th, 2010

      They sat on hefty wooden furniture hewn from a hardwood black bean tree and looked outwards over the expansive sea. Secreted within the spacious interior of the waterfront bar, they were alone in the cool midday dimness. Felix was the owner of the bar and Soval knew him, but he and Lee were still cautious not to be overheard with such important information. The time and place afforded the desired privacy, and, without undue haste, they sipped their beers. Lee clinked his bottle with Soval’s to salute their promised success. Normally they drank whisky but there was much to discuss.

      “To friends and partners.” Lee smiled brightly at the thought of what was to come.

      “Cheers, Lee,” Soval responded. “It’s a strong plan.”

      Lee