The Point in the Market

by Michael Pearce

  The next day, however, the invitation was renewed.

  ‘She says it won’t be like the other party. There will be just a few friends. It will be a family occasion and the purpose is to welcome a cousin who has just returned to the city.’

  ‘If it were just that…’

  ‘She swears it is.’

  ‘I’ll bet Faruq will be there, though.’

  ‘Very probably. I won’t go.’

  ‘It seems a pity to miss out, though, if it is really is a family do. Who’s the cousin?’

  Zeinab consulted the letter.

  ‘Ismail.’

  Owen sat up.

  ‘Ismail? Is he a Pasha?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Which Ismail? He doesn’t, by any chance, have an estate at Ossawa?’

  ‘I think that’s the one, yes. The trouble with a large family is that it’s hard to keep track of them.’

  ‘Does he know Faruq?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘It would be interesting to find out.’

  ‘Are you trying to use me, too?’ demanded Zeinab.

  ‘Okay, forget about it. Don’t go.’

  There was a little silence.

  ‘Why do you want to know?’ said Zeinab.

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Work?’

  ‘It could be.’

  ‘Is it political?’

  ‘Very.’

  Zeinab considered.

  ‘I think you ought to tell me.’

  ‘Look, I don’t want you to go. Not if you’re going to be mucked about by Faruq.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I’m wondering—and it is just wondering—about possible ways in which information might get from the Sultan’s Office to friends of the Turks.’

  ‘Secret information?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘About the war? Military information?’

  ‘Yes.’

  They were inside. Zeinab was lying on the divan, Owen was sprawled on two of the big leather cushions on the floor.

  Zeinab swung her feet down and went out on to the balcony. She stood leaning against the rail, looking down at the square below, with a solitary arabeah parked beneath the trees and a few people talking by the kiosk which sold newspapers, and then outward and across to where it was just possible to make out the heads of the palms beside the river bank and, further still, two feluccas bending across the water.

  Owen followed her out and stood beside her.

  ‘I’m not doing anything for the British,’ said Zeinab.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Don’t forget, I’m part Turkish.’

  ‘Turkish-Egyptian.’

  ‘More Egyptian than Turkish.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Where does Egypt come in all this?’

  Owen thought.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he confessed.

  ‘At least you’re honest,’ said Zeinab.

  ‘I don’t even know what “Egypt” is in this connection. It’s obviously the Egypt of the British. But apart from that? Is it the Egypt of the Pashas? Or is it the Egypt of the fellahin? Or is it the Egypt of the Nationalists? I just don’t know.’

  ‘Join the rest of us,’ said Zeinab.

  ***

  Owen had a meeting of the Intelligence Committee the next morning. It was a strange meeting. Everyone’s minds seemed somewhere else. Which they were. All the Intelligence reports showed that a Turkish attack was imminent. The main purpose of the meeting seemed to be to show that all available resources were being hurried up to the Canal. Owen indicated his reservations.

  ‘I know, I know,’ said Cavendish. ‘The Senussi. But they’re miles away in the West, if they’re there at all and not happily riding round the Sahara, and meanwhile the Turks are just next door poised to come across the Canal at any moment.’

  No one else said anything. They were all anxious to get away. Not unreasonably, thought Owen. Committees seemed a bit irrelevant just at the moment.

  They finished early.

  He stopped Paul for a word after the meeting.

  ‘Yes, yes, I know,’ said Paul. ‘The annexe. Well, look, they’ve got to have an annexe. The hospital is bursting at the seams. And what happens when the wounded start coming in after engagement opens on the Canal?’

  ‘It’s the segregation I don’t like. Egyptians and the rest.’

  ‘It won’t last. There’ll be so many wounded coming in that they’ll have to use the annexe for all-comers. And the great thing is, it’ll be under Labiba. Not that bloody woman Cunningham.’

  ‘Yes, well, I do see that’s an advantage. I’m getting really fed up with the way she carries on.’

  ‘Yes, well, so am I. Don’t forget I spent all Tuesday trying to calm Cairns-Grant down, and half the problem was getting her to shut up.’

  ‘You know, I’m going to have to have a go at her.’

  ‘Gareth, please, please! Can you stay out of this? Could you just leave this to me? This is war time and we can’t afford to have non-combatants like me. And so I have decided to take a hand. And the first thing I propose to do is open a private front against Mrs Cunningham. The battle plan is already worked out, so I don’t want you butting in. First, I intend to build up someone else, then I shall find an issue which divides the enemy and on which Mrs C feels obliged to make a stand. Then I shall bring it to a head and force her out.

  ‘This is a matter of military tactics, Gareth, and I am practising so that I can take over in place of the Commander-in-Chief should the need arise. After Mrs Cunningham, I imagine the Turks will be easy.’

  ***

  Zeinab went to her party. The mood, she said, was jubilant. The Turkish attack was expected at any moment and everyone was confident that when it came it would be successful. People talked excitedly about the changes that would be made: the changes at Court, that was, and in the Ministries, which were the only changes that interested them. Faruq was already making dispositions.

  He was there, of course. However, so caught up in the general excitement was he, and with the consequences of Turkish success, that he paid little attention to Zeinab; remarking only, with heavy significance, on one occasion that when the time came she would ‘soon see.’

  It was taken for granted that Zeinab shared the pro-Turkish sentiment of the group and, for once, Zeinab didn’t fall into argument. It was astonishing, she observed afterward to Owen, how rapidly, after so many years, the Pashas were rediscovering their Turkish roots. What she was conscious of in herself was the great distance that had grown up between herself and the circles into which she had been born. The discovery that she had been experiencing lately had been that of Egypt outside those circles, a bigger, less privileged, more confused but certainly more exciting Egypt than the one she had known.

  She left as soon as she could and was amused, and touched, to find Owen waiting just outside the door. ‘In case of accidents,’ he said.

  She had spoken to the Pasha Ismail, but only briefly. He had spent most of the evening in conversation with Faruq.

  ***

  The Turkish attack came the next day. Intelligence reports had given the British a pretty good idea of where the main strike would be and they had been able to assemble enough forces to hold it. Some Turkish units did succeed in crossing the Canal but were forced back with the aid of the fire from two French cruisers and a sandstorm. The fighting continued for several days but the Turks were unable to make the break they had hoped for.

  They had hoped that the civilian population would rise against the British, but they did not. Owen had thought they might and McPhee had had his policemen at the ready; for all the good that was likely to do. They did not need to be called on, however. The country remained quiet. The Egyptians, wisely, had decided to w
ait and see who emerged as the winner before taking sides.

  The Turkish attacks petered out and there was a lull in hostilities. And it was just at this moment that the Senussi attacked. They swept into the country from the west and occupied a few frontier towns.

  And now Owen knew the message that Sabri had been trying to get to him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Intelligence Committee held an emergency meeting.

  ‘Got any more nasty surprises for us, Owen?’ said one of the Army officers, as they trooped into the committee room.

  ‘It wasn’t a surprise to Owen,’ Cavendish said quietly. ‘It was to us and it ought not to have been. We had been told. We’ll have to do some thinking about that.’

  The Army representatives had the grace to admit that was so.

  They were feeling pleased with themselves. The battle had gone their way and the Turks had been held.

  ‘Next time it will be our turn,’ they promised.

  ‘That won’t be for some time yet,’ said Lawrence. ‘And meanwhile? What are we going to do about the Senussi?’

  ‘They won’t come far into Egypt,’ said Owen. ‘They’re raiders, not occupiers.’

  ‘We’ll have to send somebody to chase them out,’ said one of the officers.

  The senior officer looked unhappy.

  ‘It’s too early to detach people yet,’ he said. ‘The Turks may come again.’

  ‘In any case we’ve got everyone up on the Canal,’ said Paul. ‘Just what Gareth was worried about.’

  ‘We could transfer the Camel Corps,’ said Owen. ‘They’re less use at the Canal, where it’s a static war. One for the infantry. But over in the West it will be camels against camels.’

  ‘And they’d get over there a bit more quickly,’ said Paul.

  ‘Can we rely on them, though?’ asked one of the officers. ‘I know the officers would be British, but—’

  ‘You can rely on them,’ said Owen. ‘There might be a question as to how far the Egyptians see the Turks as their enemy. But there’s no question at all as to how they see the Senussi. They’ve been fighting the Senussi for centuries.’

  ***

  The next week or two was rather a strange period. On the Canal fighting continued for some time but in a desultory way. There were occasional sorties which would sometimes develop into quite heavy engagements but the British grew increasingly confident of their ability to contain them. In the West, the Camel Corps, transferred with great speed, was very soon making an impact. For a time there was sharp skirmishing but then the Senussi were found to withdraw behind their own borders. They made occasional raids but for the most part were content to circle and threaten.

  In between, however, things were quiet.

  Except in the hospitals. While casualties weren’t heavy, either at the Canal or against the Senussi, certainly compared with the losses at Gallipoli, the wounded were soon coming in such numbers as to exhaust the little spare capacity that existed in the Cairo and Alexandria hospitals. The need for the annexe became imperative. It wouldn’t become operable for at least another fortnight, however, and meanwhile the wounded were already arriving.

  Zeinab was drawn into nursing. She threw herself into it with all her abundant energy and Owen didn’t see her from six in the morning until midnight, when she came home so exhausted that she collapsed straight into bed. She had no time to speak to him and he had no idea how she was getting on, so one day he went along to the hospital to see.

  The conditions in the hospital were much worse than when he had been there before. Indeed, they were appalling. Wounded men now covered the floor everywhere. They lay along the corridors, they had spread out even on to the verandahs and down the steps. He had to step over them on his way to Cairns-Grant’s office.

  The Australians were still gambling and the startled lizards dropping their tails. A sizeable proportion of them, however, had now dropped them and the majority of the lizards skirting over the walls were strangely stumpy.

  Zeinab came into the ward and was at once greeted with a warm chorus.

  ‘Over here, sweetheart!’

  ‘Oh, you’re a beaut!’

  ‘This way, Sheila! Never mind him.’

  Zeinab smiled, waved a hand to Owen, reached under a bed and hurried out carrying a bed-pan.

  ‘Hey! She waved to him! What’s this guy got that I haven’t got?’

  ‘Well, two legs, both arms, a nose in the right place…and that’s before we get down to essentials!’

  In the office Cairns-Grant was talking to Labiba Latifa.

  ‘I know, lassie, but you’re needed over there. It’ll be ready in ten days and we need someone to make sure they’re putting things in the right places.’

  ‘I’ll go over there this afternoon.’

  ‘And stay there, love. You’re more use over there.’

  ‘I’ll show them where the stuff’s got to go and then come back. The new equipment won’t start coming till next week.’

  ‘Aye, but we’re transferring some of the equipment from here.’

  ‘Alec, there’s a thing about that. Mrs Cunningham is saying—’

  ‘I know what Mrs Cunningham is saying.’

  ‘Yes, but she’s insisting—’

  ‘Aye, and young Trevelyan is insisting, too. And, what’s more, he’s got the Commissioner behind him!’

  ‘She says she will resign!’

  ‘I think,’ said Owen, ‘that that may be the idea.’

  ***

  He had spoken with the Ministry and they had found a waquf that Salah could benefit from. His mother brought him in and took him to the school. They liked him and after a few tests his entry was agreed upon. Afterwards, Salah came round to thank Owen.

  ‘I am not sure, though, Effendi, that this is what I want. I know my father would have wished it and so I will do it. But I would have preferred a man’s job.’

  ‘That time will come. Meanwhile, there is something you can do for me which is very much a man’s job.’

  ‘Tell me, Effendi.’

  ‘It touches your father’s death.’

  ‘Then I shall not fail you, Effendi.’

  ‘Your father went to see Osman to speak with him. It was, in fact, about yourself. Now, what I want to know is: did a man go afterwards from Osman, or from the village, to the Camel Market? Take care how you find out. For if it is not done secretly, those who encompassed your father’s death might connive at yours.’

  ‘I understand, Effendi.’

  ‘Do this,’ said Owen, ‘and afterwards the men of the village will know that it was your hand that was on the avenging dagger.’

  ***

  ‘Hello, Selim. How are you today? Are there any magnoum fellows hanging around, or have you chased them all away?’

  ‘None today, Effendi. I think it is because the weather is cooler.’ The big policeman fell in beside him.

  ‘I spoke to Hamid the other day, Effendi. You know, my friend at the fire station. It was about that magnoum fellow. It was as I thought, Effendi. He did come from the fire station. In fact, he’s one of the firemen. They know all about him. They say he is a real pain in the ass. He’s always on to them, chiding them for their profanity. Well, I mean, Effendi, if a man can’t use a few choice words occasionally, especially when he’s a firemen, where the hell are you? It’s worse than being a policeman. Well, perhaps not worse, but nearly as bad as.

  ‘He’s always popping into the mosque, too. Well, that’s all right, so we should. But you’ve got to choose the right time. That’s what I tell my wives. Not when I want my bloody supper, I say. Anyway, he goes in every time he gets back from a fire, to give thanks, I suppose. Well, that’s all right you may think, but that, of course, is just when they’re busy. The hose pipes have to be hung up and dried and that sort of thing
. And he’s always in the mosque!

  ‘Well, it gets them down, understandably. They’d like to get rid of him but they can’t. He’s the son of the boss, you see. “You’re got to make allowances,” he says. You know, for the poor bastard being magnoum. “He can do his job all right.” Well, so he can. It’s just that he’s a real pain to have around the place.

  ‘They feel they can’t do anything. You know, sometimes when there’s nothing on, and there’s often quite a lot not going on in a fire station, except just lately, of course, they like to have a quiet game of something. “You can’t do that!” he says. “It’s forbidden!” Well, I’m as devout as the next man but you’ve got to draw the line somewhere!

  ‘“So,” Hamid says, “can you lock this poor bugger up? Just to get him out of the way for a bit? So that we can get on with our game?” And, Effendi, do you know, I’ve been wondering: could I get him for hanging around, do you think? He does a lot of hanging around, apparently.’

  ‘It depends a bit on where he hangs.’

  ‘I’ll certainly get him if he hangs about here.’

  ‘It’s not exactly against the law, Selim. Chivvy him off, though, by all means, if he’s a nuisance.’

  As he continued on up the stairs, a thought struck him. He turned and came down again.

  ‘Selim, that magnoum fellow: you say he does a lot of hanging around. Where?’

  ‘I don’t know, Effendi. It’s just what the firemen say.’

  ‘Selim, there’s a thing I’d like you to do for me. I want you to check—’

  ***

  ‘I think I can say I’ve played my part,’ said Curtis, with modest pride. ‘People tend to forget our side of things but without us there couldn’t be any fighting. You can fire the bullets only if they’re there. Well, they were there, and I’m proud of it. Not just me, of course, but everyone in Supplies. We’re part of a great team. That’s what I always say, a great team.

  ‘Mind you, we’ve had our difficulties at times. I’ll give you an example. When the Camel Corps was switched from one front to the other to tackle the Senussi. You might think it was just a question of riding across. Well, it was that, of course, but it was also much more. No good arriving there if the bullets hadn’t, was it? And not just bullets: food, water, medical supplies—medical supplies are a bit on my mind just at the moment—and fodder.