by Jon Jacks
The boy’s English was remarkably faultless, such that Harry had heard only from those who had attended the very best private schools.
‘Oh, I told Azar I was lost, and that I was looking for you,’ Lil urgently broke in, sensing Harry’s bewilderment that the boy knew his name.
Harry turned back to her, scowling in a mix of anger and concern.
‘Lil! You just went up to someone, asking for their help without knowing who they were? And it didn’t dawn on you that the chances were they wouldn’t know what you were saying?’
‘She was very lucky that she asked me, Captain; I can speak English, as you can see.’
‘Yes, yes; she was lucky, Azar. Thank you, Azar, for helping Lil – Miss Pine – but now we must–’
‘Harry,’ Lil said, lightly placing a hand on his chest, looking up at him excitedly, imploringly, ‘Azar has said he has a house nearby; a house that’s thousands of years old!’
‘Has he?’ Harry eyed Azar suspiciously.
‘I invited her to stay with my sisters – Mary and Martha – while I went looking for you,’ Azar explained with a warm grin. ‘It’s close by; and as Lil – sorry, she did say I should call her Lil, Captain! – has told you, it really is a house that has been standing virtually untouched since the time of Christ.’
‘You’re a Christian?’ Harry asked curiously.
Azar nodded.
‘And my sisters, too. And if I might answer your next question before you ask it Captain, we live here because of the connection we feel the house gives us to those earlier times.’
‘And your English?’ Harry still remained highly suspicious. ‘Where did you learn to speak so well?’
‘I’m a fast learner, Captain; I picked it up from–’
Harry frowned at him doubtfully.
‘You picked it up? How old are you Azar? Sixteen? Eighteen at most?’
‘Harry!’ Now Lil gave Harry an angry, admonishing slap on his chest. ‘Why are you being so rude to poor Azar?’
Harry caught Lil’s hand in his, glanced down at her.
‘Why? Because…because there’s something not quite right here.’
He glared at Azar distrustfully.
Azar chuckled.
‘Please, Captain; I understand your doubt. You have to ensure Lil’s – Miss Pine’s – safety, yes? You are understandably nervous and suspicious of everyone who might approach her. Especially at a time of such troubles. Surely, though, you are curious as to what happened to your friend, Sidney?’
‘Sidney?’ Harry was taken aback. ‘What do you know of him? Where is he?’
The tone of mistrust had instantly returned to his voice, now more pronounced than ever.
‘He will be at my house shortly,’ Azar replied with another charming grin. ‘I think he would like to talk to you, Captain.’
*
Chapter 7
Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.
Song of Songs 2; 17
Harry had had a great deal of difficulty explaining Private Broadley’s disappearance to his superiors; he had gone Absent Without Leave. There was no better way of describing it.
And yes, he admitted in his debriefing, Broadley had taken a gun with him.
Harry had only narrowly avoided a serious reprimand for his ineffectual command of the situation. Fortunately, every officer was needed; his version of events had been grudgingly accepted.
‘If I see him, you do realise it’s my duty to arrest him?’ Harry warned Azar as they approached the house.
‘Yes, that’s what Sidney said too.’ Far from seeming troubled, Azar grinned yet again. ‘Although he also said that you wouldn’t.’
Harry visibly bristled at Azar’s reference to his humiliating indecisiveness. Feeling sorry for him (while also wondering why Harry continued to treat this troublesome Broadley so ridiculously leniently!), Lil reached for his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
‘We’ll see; we’ll see about that, Azar!’ Harry declared as authoritatively as he could manage.
As they reached the doorway, Azar opened the door then stood aside, indicating to Lil with a graceful wave of an arm that she should enter first, followed by Harry.
Inside, with the only light coming from the open door behind them and a small, bare window positioned in the same wall, it seemed incredibly dark as the eyes slowly adjusted to the sudden change from the bright sunlight outside. The room smelt of stale oils, sweat, smoke, the latter creating a permanent haze even as the eyes began to pick out the shadowy shapes of a simple table, even simpler chairs around it, a person in traditional garb seated to one side.
‘Harry,’ the man said in hearty welcome, rising to his feet, the room being so low that his covered head almost brushed the thick, bowed ceiling beams.
Harry squinted his eyes, like he was trying to confirm what his ears had already told him.
‘Sidney,’ he said gruffly.
*
Chapter 8
I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.
Song of Songs 2; 7
‘I should arrest you…’
‘I noted a “should” there, Harry!’ Sidney laughed. ‘Does this mean I can at last begin to hope that you’re beginning to see sense?’
‘Well, there’s no point in me beginning to hope that you’re going to see sense, is there?’
‘That depends on your definition of sense, Harry; me, I think I’m the one that’s got it right. And I haven’t given up on you yet – hence me sending young Azar here out to look for you. Though I hadn’t expected him to end up bringing the young Miss Pride back with you!’
‘Pine; the name’s Pine,’ Lil insisted irritably.
‘I know what you’re name is young missy. And I think your uncle’s going to have an awful lot to answer for when he finds himself standing in front of those pearly gates he professes to believe in.’
‘Sid! Lil’s hardly to be held responsible for her uncle’s actions! She’s not even directly related, for God’s sake!’
‘Attitude, Harry; it’s your attitude that’s finally going to decide which side you’re on when the war comes!’
‘War? What war? Rag bag armies on either side. Mayhem, chaos, murders; oh yes, you’re all more than capable of causing all of that. But don’t glamorise it by terming it a war, Sidney!’
‘Rag bag armies? Yeah, Harry, because we’ve been disbanding what little already remained of the Jewish regiments that helped liberate Palestine, and confined what few soldiers there still are to Sarafand camp. But we don’t do a thing about Faisal infesting the country with his Sherifian officers, even though we know they’re stirring up trouble.’
‘Azar?’
It was a woman’s voice, coming from the doorway behind them.
There were actually two women standing there, waiting for everyone to move farther inside, to make room for them. Although heavily and unflatteringly garbed, in long robes and headdresses, what little of what was revealed of their faces was enough for Lil to realise they were attractive, possibly even beautiful women, with arching cheekbones, curvaceous mouths and large, expressive eyes.
‘Ah, my sisters, Mary and Martha,’ Azar exclaimed happily, stepping aside and indicating that everyone else should do the same.
Before the two women could step inside, however, Sidney began to brusquely barge his way past everyone with a gruff, ‘It’s all right; I’m leaving.’
Reaching the doorway, he stopped to tenderly take the hand of one of the women, leading her back outside, saying, ‘Martha.’ The rest of his rapidly delivered message for her was in a language Lil didn’t understand and, besides, anyone in the room wishing to eavesdrop would have struggled to hear his whispering voice clearly.
‘Azar,’ he suddenly declared loudly, ducking slightly beneath the do
orway so that he could look back into the room. ‘Think on it; Ha-Shomer needs everyone we can recruit. Otherwise people you know will die, if Husseini’s Fedayeen have their way in Jerusalem.’
As a final parting gesture, he raised an arm, clenched a fist, in some form of salute.
‘El Sid!’ Azar replied with a similar raising of the arm and an amused chuckle.
Spinning on his heels, Sidney strode away, a vanishing mirage in the incredibly harsh light of the sun.
‘El Sid?’ Harry glowered at Azar suspiciously once more.
‘A private joke, Captain. Sidney stirs me up with tales of how the Spanish knight El Cid defeated the Moslems.’ He turned to Lil, offering her a further explanation. ‘Cid is Arabic for “lord”, el for “the”.’
Lil smiled gratefully, although she was puzzled that Harry had allowed such a simple thing to re-ignite his distrust of Azar.
‘Captain?’
The two women had been patiently waiting for introductions to be made. Now, at last, Mary observed Harry with the lowered eyes of a slightly admonishing gaze.
‘Oh, I’m ever so sorry, Miss!’ Harry apologised, accompanying it with a sharp, diffident and embarrassed bowing of his bared head (he had already removed his cap immediately on entering the house). He turned to Martha, offering her the same apologetic bow.
‘And sorry to you too, Miss! What must you both think of me?’
‘Please don’t concern yourself, Captain,’ Martha replied kindly.
‘We did notice you were busy,’ Mary added, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘I’m Mary,’ she said, offering him her hand, her eyes now narrowing seductively. ‘And this is my sister, Martha.’
With a fleeting twist of her head, she briefly drew his attention back to her smiling sister before quickly latching her eyes on his once more.
‘And you, I presume, are Captain Hilary; or Harry, as Sidney refers to you.’
Lil inwardly bristled, annoyed by the way this beautiful, confident woman so easily held Harry’s stupefied gaze. How poorly did she herself – so recently a silly little girl, who would grow unnecessarily excited over ridiculous tales of girlish adventures read beneath her bed sheets – compare with this striking woman?
‘Yes, Harry, please call me Harry; and this is–’
‘Miss Lillianne Pine,’ Martha finished for him, stepping closer towards Lil and placing a motherly arm around her shoulders.
‘Lil, please call me Lil! But…how did you know my name? How did you know who I am?’
‘Sidney again, of course.’ Martha gave her a warm smile. ‘He told us how he and Captain Hil – Harry – brought you here.’
Lil abruptly remembered what Sidney had also said earlier about her – or, more specifically, her uncle.
‘Wait; can anybody please explain what that awful man – sorry, Martha, but he was awful to me earlier – meant when he said my uncle wouldn’t get into heaven? How dare he say that?’
‘He said that?’ Martha shook her head in amazement. ‘I’m sorry, Lil; he’s just so incredibly passionate about everything at the moment. And he believes your uncle is one of those who’s stoking up trouble by assuring Faisal that the Arabs of Palestine will rise up to support his takeover of this country.’
‘Creating a supposedly “united Syria”,’ said Mary, gloomily nodding in agreement.
‘I…I don’t really know my uncle,’ Lil admitted uncertainly, ‘but surely he wouldn’t say such a thing…’
‘Unfortunately, Lil, we’re every bit as split in our aims for Palestine as Jerusalem is,’ Harry explained gently. ‘Officially, we’re against all this dangerous nonsense; but there are influential people secretly taking up entrenched positions on both sides of the argument.’
Lil let out a sour laugh.
‘Oh, wonderful; so I come here for a break, and find myself caught up in all this intrigue and distrust? What were those things Sidney mentioned earlier; this Ha-Shomer and Fedayeen? Different armies?’
‘More or less,’ Azar confessed. ‘Ha-Shomer is organising armed resistance against the Fedayeen suicide groups – who everybody believes were formed by our very own mayor’s nephew, Hajj Amin al-Husseini.’
‘One of the el-Husseini family; our landlords.’ Martha, having gathered together a pile of plates while they talked, was quickly placing them around the table. ‘Enough talk; time to eat, I think. You’ll be staying a while, of course?’
‘Yes, you must,’ agreed Mary enthusiastically. ‘We can even eat outside if you prefer; we have a very small garden, with a shading olive tree – our very own Garden of Gethsemane.’
Harry shook his head sadly.
‘No, I’m sorry, Martha, Mary, Azar; we would like to, I assure you – but I must return to duty, and therefore I’m afraid Lil must also leave with me.’
‘Duty? I thought your duty was taking care of me?’ Lil asked, even though she was secretly glad that Harry had turned down the chance to stay longer with Mary.
‘As appointed by Miss Debussy, not your uncle,’ Harry chuckled. ‘I’ve made it my duty to look after you while I’m off duty, Lil – but otherwise, we’re too shorthanded for me to be spared to escort you around the city.’
Lil pouted disappointedly, hiding the fact that she was thrilled that Harry had set aside his own time to accompany her around the city.
‘But tomorrow, Captain,’ Azar said, ‘you must visit us tomorrow, yes?’
‘Of course, Azar! Would the afternoon, around two, be fine by you?’
He was answered by nods and smiles.
Lil smiled too, but she was furious that Harry had accepted the invite after all.
She wanted Harry all to herself, she didn’t want to share him; let alone lose him to the ridiculously gorgeous Mary.
*
Chapter 9
He hath as it were the strength of an unicorn.
Numbers 24:8
As soon as they stepped outside the house, Lil reached for and grasped Harry’s hand.
Although he didn’t make any effort to shake her hold loose, he looked down at the clasped hands with an expression that Lil presumed might be puzzlement.
‘To make sure I don’t get lost again, Harry? You wouldn’t want me to get lost again, would you?’
‘I suppose not,’ he grinned back, giving her hand a warm, reassuring squeeze.
Lil had to stop herself from almost skipping with joy. (How childish would that look?)
‘So, where to now, Harry?’
‘Now? Back to barracks for me; back to the house for you, I’m afraid.’
‘Harry! There’s still so much to see!’
‘Yes, and I’m going to be seeing it on while on duty, Lil! As for you, remember Mary?’
‘Mary?’ Lil, still holding tightly to Harry’s hand, stopped them both in their tracks. ‘I knew that’s why you agreed to go back there tomorrow! Because of Mary! I saw you looking at her, Harry! And you know absolutely nothing about her!’
Harry grinned with amusement at Lil’s petulant stance, her angry scowl.
‘Lil; I meant Mary the maid. Remember her? I told her to take part of the day off, so now we need to meet up with her again before I can return you both to the house!’
‘Oh, Harry; I’m sorry!’ Lil felt like a peevish little six-year-old. ‘I…I’d forgotten all about poor Mary!’
‘She’ll be fine, don’t worry; but you won’t be if Miss Debussy sees you turning up without her!’
‘Hah; then I’d be the one being confined to barracks, or whatever it is you call it.’
Lil set off at a jaunty walk, weaving her way once more through a growing crowd, this time still holding onto and almost dragging Harry along after her.
‘Oh, and Lil,’ Harry said, ‘I accepted Azar’s invitation to come back tomorrow because I thought you found him, well, interesting.’
‘Harry! Azar is nice; but he’s just a boy. I’m not interested in boys; they’re much too immature and silly!’
Lil was talking too much, she knew. But she was trying to cover up her dismay that, not only had Harry failed to understand that her primary interest lay in him, but he also seemed to think she was still childish enough to want to hang around with a boy like Azar; and, worse still, Harry didn’t seem to mind – let alone being jealous! – that she might be interested in Azar!
‘I thought he seemed quite intelligent, for his age,’ Harry replied. ‘Though there is something odd about them all, don’t you think? The way they all speak such perfect English, like they’ve all had the best schooling anyone could afford.’
‘So? They might have been wealthy at some point. They all seem incredibly nice people to me – but, the way you stare so suspiciously at poor Azar, you seem to think he’s either going to rob me at any minute or join up with you friend “El Sid’s” freedom fighters.’
Harry shrugged.
‘Maybe yes, you’re right; I’m just being too suspicious, what with the tensions flooding around this city and–’
Harry stopped in midsentence, his attention caught by a small group of policemen standing nearby, many of whom were arguing angrily amongst themselves. Harry stormed over towards them, barking out what sounded to Lil like furious orders in Arabic.
The policemen briefly snapped to a lazy form of attention, even though some of them still continued to attempt to put their side of the argument across to Harry. They pointed first here then there, disagreed with each other, shook their heads, glared at each other, made dismissive, perhaps even insulting gestures.
Harry listened patiently, only interrupting irritably every now and again, a puzzled frown growing on his face. With a finally volley of barked commands and a waving of an arm, he ordered them on their way.
Even as the policemen walked off, Harry seemed contemplative, even highly apprehensive.
‘What’s wrong Harry,’ Lil asked, gently placing a hand on his waist. ‘Has there been trouble?’
Harrys shook his head, like he was coming out of a dream, like he had been distracted.
‘What? Oh, no, no…’
He faded off, as if he were still attempting to ponder a particularly troublesome problem