It was not long afterwards that he appeared at the top of the stairs. He was still clad in his tunic, his chestnut hair ruffled from sleep. In the two and a half years since I had seen him last, he had shaved off his beard but grown a healthy paunch.
He could not see me, but he slowly began descending the stairs, one hand on the curlicued rails, looking back over his shoulder to say in Nahuatl to the old woman: ‘There’s no one here.’
‘Yes, there is,’ I said, stepping out of the shadows.
He was almost at the bottom of the stairs. He froze, staring at me with utter astonishment.
‘Kate,’ he said. ‘Good God Almighty.’
I made myself smile with great joy.
‘Hello, Alex.’
Then I rushed forward and flung my arms around him.
For a moment he stood rigid. Then slowly his arms came up and closed around my back as I buried my head in his chest.
‘How did you know I was here?’ I heard him say in a voice that sounded broken.
‘Motecuhzoma told me. I’m so relieved you aren’t dead. I thought they’d killed you. I only learnt the other day that they’d put you here in exile instead. You can’t imagine how happy I was.’
I kept my face close to his chest, giving him every opportunity to recover his composure. He smelt of old cologne, sleep and Mexican cigarettes.
‘I thought I’d lost you,’ I blubbered. ‘I thought you were gone for ever. Did they tell you about Victoria?’
‘Victoria?’
He couldn’t disguise the quaver in his voice.
‘She’s in exile. In China. I haven’t seen her for almost two years.’
Now there was a palpable decrease in the tension of his body. It was only then that I truly knew he had betrayed me.
‘Kate,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. It’s like a dream. So much has happened… They brought me here after I was captured… I – I didn’t know whether you knew I was alive or not.
Now I did look up at him. He was an adaptable liar, this long-lost husband of mine, seizing each opportunity I gave him. But he remained cautious.
‘How did… Did they let you come here?’
I beamed at him. ‘Motecuhzoma’s going to declare an amnesty for all political prisoners. You’re going to be released.’ I paused, and then, with the grisly satisfaction of an assassin sliding home a knife, added, ‘We can be together again.’
An instant of shock, quickly hidden. Then a smile came to his lips.
‘That’s marvellous. I can hardly believe it. I’ve been a prisoner so long here I thought I’d never be free. It’s like a dream come true.’
What an effort those words must have cost! But I was far from finished with him.
‘They had our marriage annulled,’ I said on instinct. ‘Until just recently I thought I was a widow. They wanted me to think that.’
A broken-backed nod. ‘They told me about the annulment. I tried to plead with them, but there was nothing I could do.’
‘Motecuhzoma says the annulment carried no legal weight because your death was faked. Do you know they showed me a dead body that looked just like you? It even had an appendix scar in the right place.’
He swallowed. ‘They’re very good at that sort of thing. It must have been terrible for you.’
It’s all over now. We can be man and wife again.’
The smile remained fixed. ‘It’s incredible news.’
‘Unless,’ I said slowly, ‘you’ve found someone else.’
Fear snaked behind his eyes. I affected not to notice it.
‘Just teasing,’ I said lightly. ‘They told me you’ve been living alone here.’
The smile broadened again, blissful with relief at his luck. He stepped back, holding me out in front of him. ‘You look marvellous, Kate.’
He drew me to him again. I knew he was about to kiss me, to bury his feelings in that kiss, to hide his lies. I put a hand on his chest, indicating that he look over his shoulder.
The old woman stood at the top of the stairs, peering down at us.
‘Don’t worry,’ Alex whispered. ‘She’s half blind.’
It was a blithe demonstration of his contempt for others. In the past, I might have taken it as daring.
‘Can’t we be alone?’ I pleaded. ‘There’s so much I want to tell you.’
Again it was obvious he felt that fortune was favouring him.
‘Matlalli,’ he called to the old woman, ‘that’s all for now. And tell the other servants we’re not to be disturbed.’
He took me into one of the rooms off the hall. It was furnished with Regency armchairs and a chesterfield. Striped fish floated in a big green-lit tank above the open hearth. On the wall was a Hockney hologram of Bradford Town Hall. Alex had been born on one of his father’s estates near Bingley, though he had never lived in the north. It was the sentiment of the exile again.
‘Your Nahuatl has improved,’ I remarked; formerly he had been hardly able to speak it at all.
‘I had to learn it,’ he replied. ‘No one here spoke English. They made me dress Mexican-fashion, too.’
How easily the lies tripped off his lips! How easily I was able to identify them now.
‘Motecuhzoma told me they captured you and faked your death in the hope of marrying me off to one of their princes. Is it true?’
This was mere supposition on my part, and Alex’s response was to half squirm, half shrug.
‘They never told me why,’ he said hastily. ‘I was just brought here, told I’d never be able to see you again.’
‘I don’t understand why they went to all the trouble of faking your death. I’m surprised they didn’t simply kill you.’
He had no answer for this, and I could see I was in danger of throwing him completely off-balance by being too cold-blooded and rational. I had to give him more time to recover his composure if I was to revenge myself on him – and on Extepan – to the full.
I surveyed the room. ‘At least they made you comfortable.’
He took my arm, seated me beside him on the chesterfield, ‘It looks like it,’ he said, ‘but no amount of comfort can replace freedom and having those you love beside you.’
This deserved a suitably withering riposte, but I did not rise to it. The more he talked, the easier I found it to despise him.
‘I don’t think Victoria’s going to be released,’ I said. ‘Do you know she was accused of trying to kill Tetzahuitl and others with a bomb? It’s ridiculous, but they say she confessed. She’s still regarded as an enemy of the state. I can’t believe she had any part in it.’
Without his beard, it was easier to read the expressions on his face. He looked somehow naked, no longer the cavalier of old. Every mention of Victoria seemed to make him writhe inwardly.
‘It sounds quite unlike her,’ he managed to say.
‘I think they’re going to keep her in exile for some time yet.’
He hesitated. ‘Where is she?’
‘In China, of course. Beijing.’
He was struggling to maintain an appearance of equanimity. He rose, taking out a pack of Xitli Golds.
‘Forgive me,’ he said, lighting one. ‘Having you here… so unexpectedly. I still can’t believe it.’
I proceeded to smother the situation with gossip, telling him about Richard’s marriage, Precious Cloud’s suicide, and all the other things that had happened since his ‘death’. Of course, I was sure he was fully informed about them, but I wanted to give him more time to recover, to understand – or think he did – his current situation. I wasn’t ready to tell him the real truth yet; I wanted to see how far he would go in his duplicity.
Alex was dutifully attentive, chain-smoking Xitlis and squeezing my hand from time to time, as if to say he still couldn’t quite believe my joyous return to his life. The old charm was beginning to reassert itself, the self-confidence and sheer well-heeled nerve which had fooled me so often in the past. He clearly thought he might, even yet, extricate himself from this extraordinary situation. No doubt he imagined I knew only partial truths. Perhaps he thought that Victoria might indeed be discreetly got out of the way by Motecuhzoma’s agents so that he could resume his life with me. Or perhaps he was simply paralysed and was going along with me because he didn’t know what else to do.