empty stomach, or even on a bellyful of beer, so he rounds off his meal with a flask of local green tea. As he sips the brew, it hits him what he has lost: the godforsaken scroll! When did he last see it? At the travel agent’s. When did he last feel it under his shirt? When they left the travel agent’s. With practised efficiency, he searches the room, then his suitcase. It is not there.
He feels a stab of despair at the loss of such a beautiful, ancient work of art, worth its weight in gold. After a dozen seconds, the pain evaporates. Linehan laughs: a dilemma has resolved itself. And he no longer has a white elephant to feed.
At the press conference, flanked by his interpreter, Linehan tries to conjure up the pain he felt, to underscore his inner anguish as he announces the failure of his mission, China’s rejection of the WFA’s pleas for mercy, the government’s insistence on marking the First United Nations Day of the Sports International by publicly executing all the players and officials who have been duly sentenced to death for their part in corrupting Chinese soccer. His brain fails to fill his eyes with tears, but he is a past master at getting his face muscles to express the appropriate emotion for the occasion.
Linehan calls an abrupt end to the press conference with the excuse that he has a plane to catch. When Daniel asks him about the scroll, on the way to the airport, finally in a taxi again, Linehan tells him it is hidden among socks in his suitcase. He wonders whether Daniel has it. He hopes so: the boy has done a good job.
At the airport, because of the Islamist terror threat, security is tight. Linehan manages to drop off his suitcase without having to open it. He offers Daniel a drink before the flight is called. They are on their second beer each when Veronica finally gets a message through. Linehan opens it.
“Sean, Im sorry. I cant do this anymore. I kno ur a good man but Ive found out the way u use 2 b. I think ur 2 old 2 realy change. 1 last loving long distance tongue in throat x. V”.
Linehan snaps the phone shut. It rings again. He opens it.
“1 thing I hate blasphemy”.
He closes it, slowly. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, if only this had come before the press conference, he could have had tears of shame and frustration rolling.
Daniel is asking him something. Will Linehan request his interpreting services next time he comes to China?
Linehan looks at the youngster. He has high cheekbones and smooth skin.
Linehan reflects.
“Have you got a sister?” he asks.
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About the author:
Bryan Murphy travelled extensively as a teacher of English as a foreign language before settling in Italy, where he worked as a translator for a United Nations agency. He now concentrates on his own words.
His poetry has appeared in places ranging from the Venice Biennale to the Brighton Evening Argus, as well as a multitude of literary magazines, and his stories have an international following.
His short play, Bar Londra, is in the repertory of the Turin Theatre Company. He has recently appeared as an actor in both plays and films.
To discover more work by Bryan Murphy, visit: https://www.bryanmurphy.eu
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