INCARNATION

by Daniel Easterman

  'I’m sorry, very sorry.’

  ‘Yes. She was a lovely sister. My father loved her more than me, I think. Everyone loved Rabbia.’

  They sat in silence for a long time. The sound of tanks came across the darkness with such clarity that they thought at times they must have entered the city and started along its alleyways.

  ‘Let’s go on,’ said Nabila. ‘I want to finish this.’

  It took only a few minutes more, and the calculations were finished.

  ‘It coincides with part of my original estimate,’ said David. ‘Look, this line meets mine at several points. The problem is, we’re still looking at a stretch some fifty miles long, probably longer. In the desert, that’s a long distance.’

  ‘What do you plan to do?’

  He looked across at Asiyeh.

  ‘Can we go somewhere else?’ he asked. ‘I don’t want to talk about this in front of her.’

  ‘She has to stay with us, you know that.’

  ‘Let’s go down to the courtyard. There are guards out there, and Asiyeh can watch us from up here, over the rail.’

  Asiyeh gave a grudging acceptance, as long as they kept within sight. It was hard not to. They strolled back and forth, breathing in the scented night air, listening to the small sounds of the household as it made ready for sleep.

  ‘I have to get out of Kashgar, Nabila. I have to get to a suitable point at which to enter the Taklamakan, find a guide, some food and equipment. If I can locate the centre, I can get word back to England to send in a raiding party to sort it out.’

  ‘How can you do that?’

  ‘I’ve got an Ultralite satellite communications set in one of my cases. If all else fails, I can get out of the desert again and use something more conventional.’

  ‘And if you can’t get out of the desert?’

  He hesitated. High above their heads, an angry bird scolded its mate.

  ‘A lot of people will die,’ he said.

  ‘Have you ever been in the Taklamakan?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘Ever ridden a camel?’

  ‘Once when I was twelve, at Whipsnade Zoo.’

  ‘Do you know how much water you will need, how much food, where to find water for the camels?’

  ‘I was hoping the guide would tell me that.’

  She looked at him softly. There was moonlight in her eyes, and moonlight on her cheeks.

  ‘And if you lost your guide? What would you do then?’

  ‘Make my way as best I could.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘You would die. The Taklamakan is the desert of death. Remember what its name means in Uighur: “You go in, but you don’t come out”. The old people didn’t call it that for nothing. There are dunes in there over one thousand feet in height. Whole ranges of them, mountains of sand. It is the worst desert in the world, and you will be going into the harshest part of it. If you lose your way, you will die. If you lose too much water, you will die. If your camels die, you will die. It is unforgiving. Hedin barely escaped with his life, and he went in no distance at all. Almost all his companions died.’

  He wanted to hold her, reassure her that he knew what he was doing. But to touch her would be fatal to both of them.

  ‘I have to go,’ he said. ‘What’s there has to be found on the ground, not by a satellite or a plane. There’s no one else to do it, I have no choice.’

  ‘I realize that,’ she said. ‘But you must be fully aware of what you face. You’ll need a companion.’

  ‘A companion?’

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ she said. ‘I’ve been riding camels since the age of five. And they weren’t in a zoo.’

  CHAPTER FORTY

  The Rose Clinic, London

  It was early evening when she turned up, a little bedraggled, about half an hour after the last dinner trays had been cleared away. It had been raining hard outside, but the heat remained in the air, making the atmosphere humid and oppressive. She was angry, and he could see she’d been crying.

  He took her into his office, wondering if he had the courage to suggest she might benefit from a short stay on the premises. An irrepressible thought grinned at him like a monkey behind bars, that he could offer her a package deal for mother and daughter.

  He closed the door and smiled his thinnest smile.

  ‘Mrs Laing. Always a pleasure to see you. And what can I do for you?’

  He thought he sounded too much like an unctuous shopkeeper showing his wares, or, God forbid, an undertaker.

  ‘A little sherry, Doctor? Shall we?’

  Elizabeth had barely touched alcohol all day. She’d woken with a blinding hangover, spent the rest of the morning drinking prairie oysters and waiting for Anthony, downed a couple of Prozac, which she got from her dear friend Frances, taken delivery of the Merc from some dreadful adolescent who’d scowled when she handed him five pounds and then hared off to the nearest Tube station on God knows what unspeakable enterprise.

  Laurence had telephoned soon after that to remind her about lunch, which had been with a ghastly little couple called Price-Enright, newly returned from Seattle, and awfully wrapped up in Feng Shui and "psychic harmonies", neither of which they had the slightest clue about. Their dog, a monstrous pug with bandy legs and an impossibly large penis, was sick under the table just when the caviare and blinis were being served.

  Then there’d been a "chat" with Laurence in the round library, during which she’d agreed to turn up at the office in two days’ time - at nine in the morning, for heaven’s sake!

  She’d expected Anthony to be there when she got home, but the moment she slipped her key in the lock, she knew the house was still empty. It had been a great temptation to run back to the bottle, but she had other thoughts to occupy her. She went to bed for a couple of hours, cried herself silly at first, and then slept till six.

  She’d been woken by the sound of the front door closing. She felt rather groggy, something she put down to the Prozac. It took her a few minutes to orientate herself, then she called out.

  ‘Anthony? Is that you? I’m in the bedroom. Where the hell have you been?’

  He didn’t come in straight away. She waited, straightening herself in the dressing-table mirror.

  ‘Anthony, what the fuck are you doing? I’m in here.’

  She didn’t yet know whether to be angry with him, or understanding. She couldn’t throw him out, it was his flat, and she daren’t antagonize him too much, or he might sling her out instead. He still didn’t come.

  So she went to him.

  He was sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, mumbling to himself. She’d never seen him like this before.

  ‘It’s not like you to knock them back so hard, Anthony. She must have been something, eh? Must have been a knockout. Or was there more than one? You’ve been gone long enough to shag every tart from here to King’s Cross silly as a drunk rat. Just amazed you’ve got the stamina, that’s all.’

  She sat down opposite him, and he raised his head, and she wished she hadn’t said a word. She’d never seen a look on a man’s face like that before, composed of so much grief and despair. He’d been crying. Something was very wrong.

  ‘Darling, I didn’t realize,’ she started. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong. There’s no use asking questions. I’ll be all right in a while if you leave me.’

  ‘Is it something to do with work?’

  ‘Work? Yes, in a way. I brought a present back for you, Lizzie. It’s in the hall.’

  It was not like him to bring home presents. Did that indicate a guilty conscience? Or growing fondness? David had always brought her little presents back after work.

  ‘I don’t need presents, Anthony. I just want to know you’re all right.’

  ‘How I am is my business. Now, please, leave me alone. I’m going to bed early anyway.’

  Stung, she got to her feet.

  ‘I may be going out myself,�
� she said. ‘On personal business. Don’t wait up.’

  She went to the bedroom and dressed. The rain had already started, but she planned to take the car. The keys were in the bowl again. She went out without even saying goodbye to Anthony.

  On the way, she paused in the hall. There was a box on the Chinese table. No Harvey Nick’s or Harrods bag in sight. Just a plain red box. She lifted the top. Inside was a doll on a wooden stand, a Chinese doll dressed in a coral dress and holding a fan. When Elizabeth stood it up, she noticed that a small plastic lever jutted out from the base. She pushed the lever to ‘on’, and the doll began to dance, moving the fan from side to side, raising and lowering her other arm, and twisting her slim body. It was a gimcrack thing, the sort of souvenir knick-knack you might find in the cheap shops in Hong Kong, or in some of the supermarkets near Soho.

  She left it on the table. As she opened the door, the doll halted and bowed. As it straightened, a squeaky voice came from a speaker in the base. ‘My name is Meihua. Nin hao.’

  And then it began to move again in its odd, laboured dance.

  He poured her a sherry and made to put the bottle away.

  ‘You too, Doc. Don’t want to drink alone. Only the truly sozzled do that, eh?’

  He sighed wearily and poured half a glass for himself.

  ‘Bloody good sherry, too,’ she said.

  ‘Apostoles,’ he said.

  ‘Sort of in-between.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You don’t like me much, do you, Doctor?’

  Her question startled him, as did the coolness with which it was put.

  ‘I’m trained not to put personal judgements between me and my patients, or their relatives. I don’t like or dislike you.’

  ‘Bollocks. That’s like saying I don’t fancy you or not fancy you. If I took my clothes off, you’d have a hard-on inside five seconds. If I said all the things I’d like to say, you’d have me out of the door and in the street.’

  ‘Mrs Laing, you seem to be getting the wrong end of several sticks.’

  ‘Yes, well, I’m sure that’s true. But at the moment I get the distinct impression that someone’s been shoving the sticks hard up my backside. I’d like to see What’s-her-name, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Has your husband come back from his travels yet?’

  ‘No idea. Could have been gobbled up by tigers, for all I know.’

  ‘I don’t think they have tigers in Scotland.’

  ‘Is that where he told you he is? He must think we’re all a pack of idiots.’

  ‘Perhaps we are. If you’d care to wait here, I’ll ask Maddie if she’d like to see you.’

  ‘Why the hell wouldn’t she? I’m her mother, for God’s sake. And I pay the fucking bills.’

  ‘I’m sure there’s no reason at all. But as long as Maddie’s in my care, I really can’t introduce visitors without her permission.’

  He hared off before she could stop him. She sat, savouring her sherry, gazing at the well-tended lawn below. They must have been having tea outside when the rain began, she thought, noticing the forlorn tables with their cups and plates that no one had yet come to clear away. What was Anthony doing now? she wondered. Each time she thought of the face that had looked up at her, showing such naked anguish, her mind flinched away from it and all it implied. But it couldn’t be ignored. She’d have to go back to him in the end.

  Rose returned. He was showing signs of fraying at the edges, Elizabeth thought. She wondered if she had such a bad effect on him. But no doubt running a clinic like this was a cocktail of stresses.

  ‘Well, Doctor?’

  ‘She’ll see you if you go up now. Try not to tire her. She’s been getting on quite well over the past few days.’

  In her room, Maddie waited patiently. She’d finished her chicken, and she’d finished her dessert. The rain outside had grown gentle, and she could sit now and listen to it fall across the garden. She could remember their garden at home, remember it vividly. There’d been a wooden bench beneath an ash tree. And birds in the high branches, and in the summer hollyhocks and Canterbury bells. She’d played there with Sam when he was younger. If she went home now, she’d play with him again. She wondered why he hadn’t come to visit her.

  That bloody man Rose had had the effrontery to suggest his being present while Elizabeth paid her visit to Maddie. Bloody cheek. She’d soon seen that one off.

  She pushed open the door and fastened her sights on Maddie, who was sitting in her chair as usual. Elizabeth smiled and closed the door. She felt a wave of overpowering love for her daughter, but other passions pushed it aside. She did not move any closer, not at first. She wanted to weigh up the strange being fate had bestowed on her.

  Maddie was nothing like her mother. Had it been the father, eyebrows would have been raised. But Maddie did resemble David. She was a feminized version of the man; very slim, very petite, very vulnerable. She had auburn hair, and a face that would have been beautiful had it not been haggard.

  She looked up.

  ‘Hello, Mummy. I thought Daddy might have come along as well.’

  ‘Afraid not, sweetheart. He’s still in China. Serving his country.’

  ‘Don’t make fun of him.’

  ‘No intention. Maddie, I’ve come to take you home.’

  ‘But Dr Rose

  ‘Forget about Rose. Your father agrees. Staying in this place isn’t doing you any good. You need to get out with people.’

  ‘But the nurses take me out.’

  ‘I’ll get you a nurse, dear. Not one of these Filipinas, wouldn’t know if they were nursing or waiting on tables. Proper nurse. I actually believe we have some company nurses. Laurence will know. He’s been asking about you. And Max.’

  ‘How is Granddad?’

  ‘Not so well since the fune- … He’d like to see you.’

  ‘The funeral?’

  ‘Oh, one of his friends died. It happens a great deal at that age apparently. Shook him a bit.’

  ‘And what about Sam? He hasn’t been to visit me.’

  ‘Sam? He’s been quite poorly, actually. Nothing serious, but it has kept him indoors a lot.’

  ‘Poor thing. What is it? Flu or something?’

  'I’ll tell you all about it once we get home. Now, we’re going to go downstairs together and tell that nice Dr Rose you’re off.’

  ‘Why’s your hair so wet, Mummy? You haven’t been out in that, have you?’

  Elizabeth ground her teeth together.

  ‘Some bastard stole the Merc. The little imbecile who brought it home must have forgotten to set the alarm. I had to get a taxi over, and we’ll have to get one back.’

  Maddie burst into giggles.

  ‘I can’t help it, Mummy, really I can’t. You look just like Mrs Robinson in The Graduate. You know, the scene where she’s been outside in the rain and then comes in, and Elaine knows she’s the woman Benjamin was sleeping with. Remember?’

  Elizabeth shook her head.

  ‘Probably. We saw lots of films back then. I rather fancied myself as Audrey Hepburn.’

  ‘Never heard of her.’

  ‘You will, dear. Now, come on, let’s get out of this morbid place before we all get suicidal.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Kashgar

  The cordon round the city had grown tighter and more ominous by the hour. The sound of tanks had stopped, and a hush lay over everything, as though everyone was just waiting.

  David and Nabila spent the day making plans. As far as possible, they worked separately, to avoid any hint of scandal. The maid Asiyeh haunted them pitilessly, clearly disappointed that they gave her so little to do. On occasion, there was nothing for it but to consult one another, whereupon Asiyeh was whipped into service, watching and sewing as they pored over maps or went though one another’s lists.

  Around noon, they ate lunch with the family. Nabila’s mother stayed in her room, but her brothers and some of the fighting men stayed. Osman said no
thing to them over lunch, but afterwards he followed them into the courtyard.

  ‘I wish you’d let me in on what you’re doing,’ he said. ‘I don’t like things going on without my knowledge.’

  ‘Too bad,’ said Nabila. She held a glass of tea in her hand, tenderly, as though it would crack.

  ‘When the time is right, you’ll know everything,’ David said. ‘We may need your help. You may need ours.’ He paused. ‘Have your men decided whether or not to attempt a rescue?’

  Osman shook his head.

  ‘I managed to talk them round. They know it’s pointless. They won’t even get out of the city.’

  Nabila looked at her brother eagerly.

  ‘Surely there must be more than one way out.’

  He shook his head wearily. He’d been up most of the night, talking, arguing, trying to reason with unreasonable men. And all the while, worry about his father had eaten away at his self-control.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘And it gets worse every hour. There was a young girl from Shule this morning. Her family live there, and she comes into Kashgar every few days with eggs to sell. She got desperate when she found she’d been trapped in the city, so she tried to get back to the village. Some soldiers found her and shot her. Just before lunch, I heard of a family of Kirghiz who’d tried to return to their pastures. They were attacked and beaten, and now they’re being held at a camp on the Tashkurgan road. The animals are gone, of course. It’s as if there’s a ring of steel round the whole city.’

  David nodded. It was beginning to fit only too ominously into a pattern he’d begun to perceive.

  ‘Are they holding everyone,’ he asked, ‘or only Uighurs?’

  ‘Anyone who’s not Chinese. The Han Chinese have already gone. They sent a delegation up to the checkpoint before the river. That was this morning, about eight o’clock. About an hour ago, they sent soldiers into the Chinese quarters. They’ve been escorted out of the city, and I hear they’re being flown out this afternoon. Where to, I don’t know. But it leaves the city completely in our hands.’