The brothers joined the group, where Ascensión and Mercedes shared a sharp wit, despite their different appearances. Ascensión had blond, almost white hair, a turned-up nose, and blue eyes inherited from her German grandmother. She was wearing an indigo dress with a drop waist, a wide belt, and a round neckline. Mercedes was sheathed in a tight-fitting green crepe silk dress with a full skirt and had her dark hair gathered up in a high chignon, highlighting her prominent nose.
Several waiters came over to their tables with trays overflowing with delicious canapés. The group ate, smoked, drank, and chatted for a good while. Kilian appreciated the easy conversation of Mateo, Marcial, and Julia’s two friends. Julia herself would not even look at them. She remained silent, her head very straight, listening with feigned interest to everyone else’s comments. Kilian thought that she looked gorgeous, with her crushed-silk dress, white polka dots on light blue. A thin strand of pearls graced the neckline of the dress. The only thing missing was the smile that normally lit up her face. It was impossible for Jacobo not to pick up on her coldness, even though Kilian had not told him of Gregorio’s indiscretion.
Around ten o’clock, Julia started to look at her watch persistently.
“Are you waiting for someone?” Jacobo finally asked.
“Actually, I am,” she replied in a hard voice. “I suppose it won’t be too long before your boy arrives to rescue you from this boring party.”
Jacobo was struck dumb as Kilian hung his head. Julia looked at them triumphantly, and the others fell silent, caught by surprise.
“How did you find out?” Jacobo said, sounding more annoyed than penitent.
“And what does that matter?” She straightened herself up even more in the chair. “Do you want me to tell you where you were that night at eleven o’clock?”
“That’s none of your business. As far as I know, you are not my girlfriend.”
Jacobo got up and left. The others remained silent. Kilian did not know where to hide himself. He looked at Julia, her chin trembling. The orchestra picked this moment to play a pasodoble that received a large round of applause from the guests. Kilian got up and took Julia by the hand.
“Come, let’s dance.”
She accepted, thankful that Kilian had saved her from an embarrassing situation. They walked in silence to the dance floor. He circled her waist with his arm, and they began to move to the rhythm of the music.
“I must warn you that I am a terrible dancer. I hope you’ll forgive me if I step on your toes . . . and for the other day. I am truly sorry.”
Julia raised her eyes toward him, tears still glistening.
“It’s obvious I picked the wrong brother . . .” She nodded, trying to smile.
“Jacobo is a good person, Julia. It’s just that . . .”
“I know, he doesn’t want to commit. At least not with me.”
“Maybe it’s too early.” Kilian did not want to see her suffer.
“Oh, come on, Kilian! I’m not fifteen!” she protested. “And this is Africa. Do you think I don’t know how Jacobo enjoys himself? What annoys me most is that men like him think that white women are completely stupid. What can a mininga give him that I can’t? What would he think if I offered my body to him like they do?”
“Julia! Don’t say that! It’s not the same . . . You can’t compare yourself to them.” The song seemed endless in that moment. “Now you are angry, and with good reason, but . . .”
“I can’t stand these double standards, Kilian!” she interrupted. “Everyone turns a blind eye to the looser black girlfriends, while the white women have to wait until you get tired of them before you come looking for a good and faithful wife. What would happen if it were the other way round? If I got together with a black man?”
“Julia, I . . .” Kilian swallowed. “All this is new to me. It’s a difficult subject.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
Kilian hesitated. He was not used to talking about these things with a woman, but Julia could be really persistent.
“It’s different with men . . . I don’t think this is an appropriate conversation.”
“Yes, right . . . for a woman,” she finished, irritated.
To Kilian’s relief, the pasodoble ended and the orchestra moved to a swing number.
“Too complicated . . . ,” said Kilian, forcing a smile.
They walked off the dance floor, passing Mateo, Ascensión, Marcial, and Mercedes, paired off for the number. Kilian and Julia walked in silence to the table, where they met Manuel having a drink.
“I’m taking a break,” he said to Kilian. “I haven’t stopped talking since we got here.”
“Manuel, I’d like you to meet Julia, the daughter of friends of my parents.”
Manuel stood up and, very politely, greeted the young woman. He noticed how her blue hairband pushed back her brown hair and revealed a pretty face with thoughtful eyes.
“Manuel is the plantation’s doctor,” explained Kilian. “He worked in the hospital in Santa Isabel before that.”
“Haven’t we met before?” she asked, studying his dark-blond hair and the pale eyes behind his thick tortoiseshell glasses. “I’m sure you’ve been to the casino before.”
“Yes. I used to come to swim. And on Sundays to play cards or have a drink with people from work.”
“I come every Sunday, and every now and then in the afternoon. How strange that we haven’t met until today!”
“Well, since I’ve been in Sampaka, I don’t go out as often.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get something to drink,” Kilian said, wanting to give them some space.
He was happy to have some time to himself after swallowing Julia’s bitter accusations. Inside, the voices had grown louder. He waved to Generosa and Emilio and continued until he reached the billiard table, where he spotted Jacobo enveloped in a cloud of smoke. Jacobo looked at him but did not beckon him over. When he got closer, his brother didn’t look up. “Ah! There you are.” Kilian wondered if he was still angry at Julia. “These are my friends Dick and Pao. They have come from Bata. We met on my first trip.”
Kilian held out his hand, soon learning that Dick was an Englishman who had worked in Douala for years before working in the logging industry with Pao on the continent. From time to time, they took advantage of their friendship with the pilot of the Dragon Rapide to make the hour-long crossing from Bata to Santa Isabel. Dick was tall and strong with pale skin reddened by the sun and brilliant blue eyes. Beside him, the Portuguese Pao was a lanky mulatto with a sharp nose. They had not held back on drinks and, between laughs, insisted on telling Kilian about the last time they saw Jacobo.
“It was on an elephant hunt in Cameroon,” his brother explained with glassy eyes. “The most extraordinary experience! There was a whole group of us setting out with shotguns. We followed a guide along a trail of broken leaves left by the beast. A noise like an earthquake told us that we were close, and not much farther there were more . . .”
“You were scared out of your life!” Dick chimed in with accented Spanish. “Your face was as white as a sheet . . .”