Tango Read Free Page B

papers, shuffle them, move them from one tray to another, sign a few, then tip his
chair back on its hind legs, put up his feet and talk.
    ‘How’s business?’ He always tried to make it sound like a technical question.
    ‘So-so.’
    ‘You were trying to telephone someone?’
    ‘The factory. Still no dialling tone.’
    ‘Give up. There’s no one there anyway. They’ve all gone home.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘They’re all striking. Today is cold; they want to go home.’
    William replaced the receiver. ‘How did you know I had seen the president?’
    ‘Everything in the market is public. That is why he goes there. He wishes his people to see him.’
    William wanted to talk about Theresa and Ines, but asked instead about Manuel Herrera.
    ‘He’s from an old family, he has great influence with the president. The other colonels, they don’t like him so much, but for the president he is a good friend because he knows
the Cubans. The Cubans have strong military. Also he knows the Russians and they can give help for the economy. But no one knows what the president is really thinking.’
    While he was speaking Ricardo threaded a biro between the fingers of his left hand, straightened his arm and abruptly clenched his fist, breaking the biro. He grinned.
    ‘Also you were with two women?’
    ‘I had lunch with them.’
    ‘Two women are better than one.’
    ‘I didn’t know them before.’ William paused. ‘What do they do?’
    Ricardo shrugged and pursed his lips, affecting a connoisseur’s disinterest. ‘They live as all women would live if they could. They dance and they sing. They are
comfortable.’
    ‘Dance and sing?’
    ‘Of course, it’s part of it. Ines’s father makes clothes but he was put in prison by the old government. He killed a man with the scissors for the cloth. Ines was very bitter
against the old government and now she likes the president, but her father is still in prison.’
    William didn’t like Ricardo knowing the girls. ‘What’s happened at the factory? Why are they on strike? It can’t simply be the cold.’
    ‘Nothing has happened. They are fed up. They want more money, less work – what all workers want.’
    ‘What does Miguel say?’ Miguel was the manager.
    ‘Nothing. He is not there. Those two men from the ports have made the workers angry.’
    The two men were union officials. The new government had taken a great interest in the unions and had strengthened them, particularly in the foreign-owned companies. Union members could not be
sacked except by their unions.
    Ricardo threw the broken pieces of his pen like darts into the wastepaper bin. ‘We must sack those two men.’
    ‘We can’t.’
    ‘Put things in their clothes and cars – stolen things or drugs.’
    ‘No.’
    This method was now the only way to get rid of anyone and was increasingly used, judging by the talk in the Foreign Traders’ Association. William would not contemplate it, but he had no
idea what he would do if trouble-makers made the operation unworkable. He felt slightly guilty at not being more ruthless and consoled himself by saying that there was nothing he could do about it.
Because of the new laws he had no authority over the factory or the mill, although as far as headquarters in London was concerned he was still responsible. They refused to understand.
    ‘That’s where you’ve been, is it – the factory?’ he asked.
    ‘Yes.’ Ricardo stood, stretched and looked at his fingertips.
    There was nothing to be gained by confronting him with his lie. He hardly ever went to the factory or the mill and had no doubt got his information from someone in the town; but demonstration of
a falsehood only increased the fervour with which Ricardo asserted it. It was easier to get him to contradict himself later, provided the contradiction was not pointed out.
    Ricardo lingered by the door. He obviously wanted to go but was probably uncomfortable at having only just arrived, and so thought of