‘Coffee,’ I provided. ‘But I doubt anyone would believe that.’
‘Well, that brings me to what I wanted to ask you. Your father lived round there for a while, didn’t he?’
‘An Indian mission village called New Bethlehem. It’s about here.’ I touched the map just by the Bolivian border. ‘My grandfather was collecting quinine for one of the early runs but he was caught and he had to hide for a while. They took him in. Dad went back for other things, orchids mostly. And some coffee, actually. Frost-resistant stuff up there. He used to live there four or five months of the year.’ I hesitated. ‘But we’d have to ask around for it, once we were over the Andes. Neither of them ever put it on a map. Dad said there are things that shouldn’t go on maps. He got cross when I tried to make him tell me once. It’s the only time he ever snapped at me that I remember.’
‘Oh dear, how useful.’
‘Oh, well.’ I had to wave my hand to encompass all the things about Dad that hadn’t been very useful. He had been made mostly of fly-fishing techniques and Peruvian stories, and since he wasn’t a capacious person to begin with, there hadn’t been much leftover room for cartography or finance. Getting annoyed about it was like blaming a butterfly for not being able to spin a web.
‘Did he ever say why?’
‘No.’ I tried to think about it. At the time I’d taken it at face value. ‘But he was born there. I think he was trying to protect the Indians. Or something.’
‘Well, that’s not an ignoble thing. We do have a habit of barging in and stealing all their cocoa. Do you suppose anyone there would still remember him?’ Clem said. ‘Anyone willing to help us?’
‘Should do. But I wouldn’t be confident of getting a letter out there,’ I said, looking up.
‘No need,’ he said. ‘We can sort out a guide and details when we arrive; in fact it’s better that way. No paper trail, no letters, no evidence. We’ll cross the Andes, find someone who can take us to the village, then we’ll be roughly in the right place and if they recognise you they might just help. They don’t know anyone else from Adam and we’re going to need native help if we’re going to find these wretched trees.’
‘I’m not him. Even if the same people are there, I don’t speak Quechua—’
‘I do. Listen, I don’t want you just for that. The idea is this. The guide and I will go up to the cinchona woods and bring back seeds or cuttings or whatever, and then you’ll look after them from there on in. If the path is decent you could even come up to the woods with us.’ He lifted his eyebrows at me, because I’d started to shake my head while he was still talking. ‘I’d be a lot more confident about the specimens if I knew you’d chosen them. I suspect you know how to look after them?’
‘I could make an educated guess,’ I said, hedgingly.
‘Good. So what do you think? Don’t think about the leg. That isn’t a reason not to do anything.’
‘Well, it is.’
‘I’m logistics. Let me worry about that,’ he said over me. ‘Merrick, the India Office put you at the top of the list. It isn’t only me who wants you to do this. They haven’t forgotten about you.’
‘I’m sure they haven’t. But I really can’t walk. Perhaps it will be a bit better in good company doing something useful, but not much.’
‘Can you ride?’
‘Yes—’
‘Good then. Em, I want your brain and your family connections. If you keep those in good order, I’ll worry about getting the rest of you there. Don’t think I imagine you’ll spring up like a lamb, I know you won’t, but the difficulty of getting you over there is paltry in comparison to the value of your presence – do you understand?’
‘Do you mean it?’
‘No, I’m lying, and so is the India Office, which of course is well known for its sentimental approach to all things.’
I looked between him and Minna and wanted to insist that it was a terrible idea. In the best of all possible worlds, Clem was going to realise it was a mistake and I’d have to stay like a fifth wheel in Arequipa or Azangaro to wait for him while he crossed the Andes, and in the worst, there was going to come a moment when we would have to run from someone with a gun and I wouldn’t be able to.
‘They’re offering to pay a fortune if we get it right,’ he added. He only flicked a look at the house, but it was clear enough.
‘I imagine doing something like this has come to seem wholly impossible,’ Minna said gently. ‘But honestly, Em, we can get you there. Stop looking at it as an impossible thing and start looking at it as a thing that must be done.’
I was on the edge of saying no, but having almost decided on it made that future very clear. A parsonage in Truro while Charles amputated pieces of the grounds and the house until eventually there was nothing left and he was stuck with me in a spare room, surrounded by people he would never believe weren’t beneath him. And me: I’d never see anything but Cornwall again, except maybe Clem’s townhouse in London at Christmas. I’d be the quiet, tired person in the corner, and all those parts of myself I could feel crumbling now would be gone, and with any luck I’d never even remember that I’d been cleverer once and better, but I didn’t generally have good luck. Minna frowned, worried. It tipped me over. It was better to get shot in the Andes than live for another forty years while they both looked at me that way.
‘Christ, the two of you. All right. We can try,’ I said. ‘But I won’t be magnanimous when it all goes wrong.’
Clem laughed. He had a huge, golden bubble of a laugh. It wasn’t put on, just expansive. I’d never heard him sing, but I’d always had a feeling he could have easily filled a concert hall. ‘Excellent. We’re off in December; it’ll be summer in Peru. Which we’ll need, I tell you now. The highlands round Titicaca are bitter in winter. You wouldn’t be able to get plants through it alive. What’s it now, end of August – here, do you speak Spanish?’
I shook my head.
‘Soon fix that. I’ve a fellow at the Spanish Embassy in London. Let’s get you shacked up there until we go, he’ll teach you. You’ll learn in no time. It’s as close to English as crumpets and cricket. God, it’s lovely in here,’ he exclaimed, surging to his feet again. He rubbed Gulliver’s ears with both hands and she jumped up with a happy yip and walked round him twice, as pleased with him as I was. ‘We’ve brought a picnic, shall we get cracking? You clearly haven’t eaten properly in aeons. Honestly, Em, either look after yourself or marry someone who will.’