Suspicions Aroused

Paikea invites Tamas to tea at Claridge’s hotel hotel. He is surprised; though he has spoken at great lengths with the contortionist, she is inclined to demand him to attend current shows and performances in whatever country they are traversing, and meeting for tea is uncharacteristically tame an invitation. However, he accepts and arrives precisely on time to find her already seated on a couch across from an armchair in a corner of the lounge, a mahogany table between them holding two cups of lightly steaming tea. He notes, pleasantly, that there is a fireplace adjacent to the armchair.

Tamas shakes out his umbrella and places it in the almost full rack of umbrellas by the door. He makes his way around the many tables to Paikea who raises her head when he is feet away.

Paikea rises to greet him, stretching on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, though he bends his knees as well. She motions for him to sit and take his tea.

They speak of the city, of the art galleries and the shows.

Paikea makes a remark about the dismal weather, her attention flickering to the sheets of rain outside.

“I hope it will be more agreeable in Basel,” Tamas replies.

“Is that where we are headed next?” Paikea asks. “I believed we were en route for Denmark.”

“Pamina has not wanted to visit Denmark since Mr.Hansen’s passing, she has not had the taste for it these days.”

“How long have you known Pamina?” Paikea asks him conversationally, though now there is something behind the words that is beyond curiosity.

“Over ten years now,” Tamas replies.

Paikea tilts her head to the side, foregoing all efforts at discretion and speaking plainly.

“I am not here to discuss your friendship with Pamina,” she says. “I am here to discuss with you something I think has not been discussed before by anyone in the circus. And that is likely because it is not meant to be.”

“What would that be?” Tamas asks, a look of puzzlement shaping his sharp features.

“Our employer.”

“Pamina?” his confusion deepens.

“No, though that would seem to be the case. I believe most of us would come to that conclusion. I am talking about Mr.Sarastro.”

Tamas looks at Paikea questioningly. “Why would you like to talk to me about him?”

Paikea sets down her tea. She looks at it while she speaks. “What do you know of our employer, Sarastro?”

Tamas answers truthfully, “I do not know much. He is some eccentric tycoon I’ve never met. He seems to do everything through Pamina. I’ve received one letter from him since signing my contract. I have no impressions of him; I do not know anyone in the circus proper apart from Pamina who has spoken to him directly. I am afraid I know nothing.”

“Everyone knows nothing about Mr.Sarastro. It is a fact I find peculiar, too peculiar to be coincidence.”

Tamas waits for Pamina to continue, his face betraying concern.

“His address in London does not exist. Or rather, he does not exist at the address. He has not lived there for a long time, much too long a time for his business cards not to be changed. Which means he has lied about his whereabouts. I have not seen a single document baring his signature. I have received no mail since joining, no postage whatsoever.”

Tamas raises his eyebrows. “Do you mean to suggest that our Mr.Sarastro is hiding from us?”

Paikea meets his eyes with an inscrutable gaze. “Not at all. I am suggesting that Sarastro does not exist. We have seen no official documents, we have not met him, spoken to him. He has never attended the circus, or any auditions. He has never signed any cheques that I have seen. I believe he is, to put it rather fancifully, a ghost. He is a distraction, and we are being carefully monitored so as not to notice that he is a distraction. He is there to prevent us from seeing who is really in charge.”

Now Tamas relinquishes his hold on his tea. Both cups sit on the table, cooling despite the warmth of the fire near them.

“I think you know quite well who is in charge. While I know you and Pamina are close, I should wonder what she is or is not telling you.”

Tamas looks down at his tea as he considers his answer. When he meets her eyes his are much darker than she has seen them before.

“Pamina has given me a home, Miss Paikea. I do not know what I would have done had she not, I may still be sleeping in dirt and I would never understand myself and the extent of my…abilities. I can only repay her with friendship, and with my trust.”

Paikea calmly sips her tea before replying, weighing her answer carefully.

“Do you not feel watched? Do you not feel as though there is no ground beneath your feet and you grasp for a place to stand and only find room to fall? I believe some people have felt such a way, and it has led to the accidents of Mr.Hansen and our dear Rose. I am tired of secrets; I am not fond of living in artifice. I know Pamina loved Hansen very much, and she has had much to bear since his passing, but I do not believe it is simply his loss that is troubling her. And furthermore I do not think you believe it either.” Tamas opens his mouth to interject but Paikea continues on as tough he is passive. “If you know her as well as you say you do, if you truly are her friend, then you will know too.”

“That is not the case,” Tamas argues, even as Paikea rises from her chair.

Paikea gathers her coat before addressing Tamas. “I ask you to speak to her. That is all Tamas. If we were good friends I would think you would ask her for her complete honesty. For my sake if not everyone’s.” She turns and walks toward the door while Tamas watches her silently.

He watches as she picks up her umbrella and opens it in the rain, becoming a dot of red silk in the grey city. He watches her until she is no more than a scarlet shadow at the end of the street, obscured by sheets of rain. She turns the corner and disappears from view.

Tamas sits and watches their tea cool for some time. The fire beside him offers little heat. He reaches for the card on the table bearing a name and an address in London, then slips it into his pocket. He still does not leave for some time.   

Text by Lucie MacAulay