Daldry paused and looked as his watch.
“I didn’t notice the time pass. I’m sorry, Alice—I’m abusing your hospitality again.”
He started to get up, but Alice pushed him back into his seat.
“Well, if you insist,” he said, happy to have drawn her in. “You wouldn’t happen to have any more of that excellent gin you served me the other night, would you?”
“You took the bottle with you.”
“Nasty habit. It was the only one?”
Alice climbed onto the bed and took a second bottle of gin from off the roof. She filled Daldry’s glass.
“Now, where was I?” he said, taking a considerable swig without grimacing. “Once she got to Mendoza, Adrienne and her mechanic, Duperrier, made their way to Los Tamarindos, where her plane was waiting. It was an inauspicious start: she was due to take off on the first of April and she had forgotten her navigation map. She took off anyway, flying in a northwesterly direction, her plane struggling to gain altitude, and the imposing, snowcapped peaks of the Andes rising up like a wall before her.
“Much later, as she was flying over a narrow valley, she noticed a lake the shape and color of an oyster passing beneath the wings of her plane. She could already feel the frostbite setting into her fingers from inside the improvised gloves she had made of newspapers lined with butter. She was underdressed and frozen to the bone in flight gear unsuited to such a high altitude. Overcome with fear, she kept her eyes glued to the horizon. To the right the valley opened up, and to the left it seemed blocked. She had to make up her mind that very moment. Something inside her pushed her to believe the fortune-teller that had come to her hotel room in Buenos Aires, and she flew into the dark clouds, climbing in altitude and trying to maintain her course. A few minutes later, the sky cleared, and she found herself face-to-face with a break in the mountains, a pass topped by a crucifix planted at over thirteen thousand feet. To make it over the pass, she forced the plane to climb even higher, past its supposed limit, but it accepted the challenge.
“Adrienne had been in the air for over three hours when she saw a river flowing beneath her in the same direction as she was flying. Soon, she saw a plain in the distance and then a large city. It was Santiago de Chile, with its aerodrome and the brass band waiting to welcome her. She had succeeded! With her fingers stiff and her face bloody from the cold, barely able to see beyond her cheeks, which were swollen from the high altitude, she landed her plane without damage and managed to pull it up in front of the three flags that had been planted in the unlikely event of her arrival: French, Argentine, and Chilean. Everybody claimed that it was a miracle. Adrienne and her talented mechanic, Duperrier, had pulled it off.”
“Why are you telling me this story, Daldry?”
“My mouth is dry from so much talking!”
She topped up his glass of gin and watched him sip it as though it were water.
“Isn’t it obvious? Because you also happened to run into a fortune-teller, one who told you you’d find in Turkey the things you can’t find in London, that you would need to meet six people along the way. I think I’m the first of those six people. I feel as though I have a responsibility to join you on your mission. Let me be your Duperrier. Maybe I’m the talented mechanic who can help you cross the Cordillera.” Daldry was drunk and emotional. “At least let me take you to the second person who will take you to the third . . . if that’s how it works. Let me be your friend. Give me the chance to do something useful for once in my life, now that I have the means to do so.”
“That’s incredibly kind of you,” said Alice, overwhelmed by Daldry’s passion. “But I’m not a test pilot, and I’m certainly no Adrienne Bollard.”
“Bolland. But you have nightmares like she did, ambition like she did, and you’re willing to undertake a voyage that seems crazy from the outset.”
“I couldn’t possibly.”
“But you could at least consider it.”
“I couldn’t. It’s completely beyond my means, and I’d never be able to repay you.”
“What do you know? You’d be spiteful not to take me on as your mechanic. Maybe you’ll discover new essential oils in Turkey and be inspired to create a revolutionary perfume, an enormous success—I could be your investor, your business partner. Of course, I’ll let you decide on the percentage that you’ll deign to grant me for having humbly contributed to your glory. And to make things fair, if I happen to paint an intersection in Istanbul that ends up in a museum, I’ll also make sure you get a fair share of the value it adds to my paintings in the gallery market.”
“You’re drunk, Daldry. Nothing you’re saying makes any sense, and yet you’ve almost managed to convince me.”
“That’s the spirit! Don’t stay shut up in your flat dreading the night like a coward. Take on the world! Let’s go on this trip to Turkey together. I’ll organize everything. We can leave London in a week. I’ll let you sleep on it and we’ll talk about it again tomorrow.”
Daldry got up, took Alice by the arm, and clutched her tightly to him.
“Good night,” he said, pulling back with embarrassment as he realized how carried away he’d got.
Alice saw him to the door. Daldry staggered a bit. They waved good night to each other and each of them closed their doors.
5
Alice’s bad dreams continued like clockwork, and she woke up exhausted. With a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she got up to make herself breakfast before settling into the armchair Daldry had occupied the previous evening. She glanced at the brochure with the Hagia Sophia on the cover that he had left behind on the trunk.
When she opened it, she could practically smell the Ottoman roses, orange blossoms, and jasmine. She imagined the mazelike passages of the Grand Bazaar, bargaining in the spice market, and breathing in the delicate odors of saffron, rosemary, and cinnamon. She felt her senses sharpen as she daydreamed before dropping the brochure with a sigh. Her tea suddenly seemed bland in comparison. She got dressed and went to knock on Daldry’s door. He answered in his pajamas and dressing gown, stifling a yawn.
“You’re more of a morning person, aren’t you?” He rubbed his eyes.
“It’s seven o’clock.”
“As I was saying. Why don’t you come back in two hours?” He closed the door.
Alice knocked again.
“What is it now?”
“Ten percent.”
“Of what?”
“On my profit, if I find an idea for a new perfume in Turkey.”
Daldry stared at her blankly.
“Twenty!” he said, pulling shut the door.
Alice pulled it open again. “Fifteen.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“Take it or leave it.”
“What about my paintings?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Whatever you like.”
“You’re being cruel again.”
“Well then, the same thing, fifteen percent on the sale of all the paintings you paint in Turkey, or upon your return, if they’re inspired by the trip.”
“Such business acumen.”
“Stop trying to flatter me and go back to bed. Come see me when you’re awake and we’ll talk seriously. I still haven’t said yes. And shave.”
“I thought you said my beard was becoming,” said Daldry, visibly hurt.
“Well then let it grow, but make up your mind. You look unkempt with all that stubble, and if we’re going to be business partners, you have to be presentable.”
Daldry rubbed his chin.
“To grow or not to grow?”
“And they say that women can’t make up their minds,” Alice muttered, and went back to her flat.
Daldry came to see her at noon. He was wearing a suit, his hair was carefully combed, and he smelled of eau de cologne, but he hadn’t shaved. Before Alice had a chance to speak, he said he was going to think about the beard until the day of their departure. He suggested they go to the pub to negotiate on neutral territory, but once they were outside, he led her to his car.
“Aren’t we going to lunch?”
“Yes, but let’s go to a real restaurant.”