by Muriel Spark
You see, dearest Ma, the trouble is …
The trouble was, she should have been an actress, as she had wanted to be in her youth. She might have worked off her self-dramatizing energies in that way.
The trouble is, that the Israelis have not nearly enough houses for their own people, let alone for foreigners. The days of grand mansions are over, and the Consulates and Embassies all over the world, I’m afraid, are …
Joanna and Matt Cartwright had arrived, their voices came from the house, mingled with other voices and many footsteps. Joanna came out, waving to Freddy. She was a vitamin capsule to Freddy, who carried small red vitamin capsules about with him to swallow after meals taken outside the British Isles. The sight of little Joanna shooting across the lawn in her red linen dress raised Freddy’s spirits. Matt was still a dark shape in the shadow of the doorway, beyond the porch. He emerged, another com-forting sight. Matt was a large man, without being tall; he was perpetually untidy, with a lot of grey hair. He was bringing some other people out to the garden whom Freddy did not see at first, since he had risen to greet Joanna and was kissing her. She said: We’ve brought a friend of yours in for a drink,’ and she added, casting up helpless eyes and mouthing her words silently, ‘and—we—had to—bring—his—awful— wife —and—daughters — as — well.’ And here they were, already coming up. As Joanna turned to them brightly, Freddy recognized the elder blue-eyed Ramdez, who was accompanied by a dumpy middle-aged woman and two girls, one plump and one thin, all in European clothes. Matt Cartwright went to help with the setting out of garden chairs. A servant moved the tables to their cool corner. Freddy moved his letter-pad from the bench and the thin girl settled there beside him. Joanna was amiably introducing everybody.
Freddy, his letter-pad useless in his hand, sat suffering indistinctly. His heart, that had lifted at the sight of Joanna, had become suddenly heavy at the sight of old Ramdez thumping after her with his women. He experienced the sensation of one who has had a disturbing dream, the culmination of which was the ringing of a telephone, and wakes with relief to discover the telephone is in fact ringing beside his bed, and answers it, only to hear disturbing news. For old Ramdez, the wealthy Arab whom everyone called ‘the Agent’, since his business interests covered a travel agency, a life-insurance agency, a detective agency (and no doubt he was a political agent, too) — old Joe Ramdez had already impressed himself on Freddy as a terrifying liar.
Freddy had first encountered him because of the son, young Abdul, over in Israel, who came to teach him Arabic and every time remained to press him to take out a life-insurance policy. This policy, which was now some months pending, was a subject of conflict within Freddy. The Middle East Visitors’ Union Life Trust was the name of the company represented by young Abdul Ramdez in Israel and by old Joe Ramdez on the Jordan side. Freddy was in very serious doubt about the standing, the existence even, of this insurance company, a policy in which, according to Abdul, would lead to the payment of five thousand pounds on Freddy’s death.
‘But I haven’t got anyone to leave five thousand pounds to,’ Freddy had said. ‘I haven’t got a wife.’
‘You got children?’
‘No.’
‘You got nephews or a nice lady? You got a friend, you definitely got a friend.’
‘I can’t think of any relative or friend of mine,’ Freddy said, ‘who isn’t far richer than me.’
This was precisely the truth. But he liked young Ramdez, the eager boy, and was good-humoured. This had been early in the spring, shortly after Freddy’s posting to Israel.
Young Abdul said, ‘You go to see my father, Joe Ramdez, when you go across to Jordan. My father’s the leader of the Middle East Visitors’ Union Life Trust agency in Palestine. I work for him. This is a confidence to you alone.’
‘You’ll get yourself into trouble,’ Freddy said. Business connexions between Israel and Jordan were illegal in both countries.
‘I will now explain to you the endowment scheme for the Visitors’ Union that will bring you a lump sum at the age of sixty-five and you save your British income-tax with the premiums that you pay each month. It is a scheme for Englishmen. You must first join the Visitors’ Union itself which my father has formed of his own idea. You see him in Jordan, he will explain. We work together.’
‘He’ll land in trouble with his government for dealing with an Israeli Arab, even his own son. There was a case of a melon dealer the other day—’
‘My father’s never in trouble with the government. He’s a friend always to the government. You see Joe Ramdez.’
Freddy had folded away his Arabic lesson-books. ‘Be careful,’ he said to the blue-eyed, dark young man. ‘You won’t be able to carry on this insurance business for long without the Israelis finding out.’
‘There’s nothing for them to find out, Mr Hamilton. I keep all the names and records in my head. My father keeps the documents, like what you will sign.’
This had been early in April. Presently, the name of Joe Ramdez had cropped up in Freddy’s office. He was apparently the owner of a travel and tourist agency in Jordan. ‘God knows what he’s up to,’ Freddy’s colleague said, ‘not that it concerns us much.’
‘I’ll have a look at him,’ Freddy said. ‘One likes to know who’s who.’ He filed a confidential report about the insurance business carried on between young Abdul and his father. He reflected wearily on the difficulty of making any real friends among the inhabitants of countries where one was posted. He had only taken three lessons in Arabic from young Abdul at that time. Freddy decided to discontinue the lessons with Abdul. He made up his mind to appoint a new teacher. A pity, because Abdul was a pleasant fellow in his eager recklessness. Freddy had felt he could understand Abdul. But after all one could never understand these people. This young man was involved in too many things for Freddy’s liking.
‘Arabic’s a terrible bore,’ Freddy said to his colleague.
‘Frightful. I don’t see the point in learning it, really. At least, not unless one is going to stay here forever.’
‘Young Ramdez is all right,’ Freddy said, ‘but he seems to be involved in too many things for my liking. Life insurance. Terribly persistent about a policy. I’m getting another teacher.’ As he spoke, Freddy felt greatly relieved to have arrived at this decision, he even felt a satisfactory sense of having accomplished the object of it.
And so it was not necessary, after that, actually to get rid of Abdul Ramdez by discontinuing the lessons in Arabic. And, after all, Abdul continued to call at the hotel three times a week to instruct Freddy, who had progressed sufficiently to be able to exchange formal phrases with Arab officials at official gatherings, but not as yet advanced enough to make much headway with the Arabs in the Arab quarters. Young Abdul spent one hour on each of the lessons, and lingered, usually, another hour to depict himself and his early life in romantically exaggerated scenes which delighted Freddy but did not altogether deceive him. Abdul had also boringly continued to press Freddy on the question of the insurance policy, each time exaggerating the mild interest Freddy had expressed on the previous occasion.
‘As you have said you have definitely decided—’
‘No, no, I haven’t decided anything. I only said …’
It seemed that the tendency to exaggerate ran in the family. But what one could take from an attractive young fellow like Abdul in Israel was a different matter when it came to the preposterous Joe Ramdez over here in Jordan. Freddy had sat in Joanna’s garden, appalled and altogether beset by an inarticulate dread while Ramdez approached, followed by his womenfolk.
‘It’s a question of sincerity,’ Joanna said in her quick, chattery voice, as she passed the teacups. She was interrupting her husband to assist him in making the point of his story. Matt Cartwright, accustomed to these interruptions, went on in his slow way to describe a qualm occasioned by his having newly got false teeth. He was explaining in detail that, when a spontaneous smile occurred on his face in r
esponse to his usual feelings, something now happened in his mouth to prevent the smile taking the same form as it used to do.
‘They don’t fit yet,’ Joanna said. ‘He’s got to be patient with them, till they settle down.’
Matt went on in his slow way. This story was to be their standby for some months to come. He said, ‘Then, when I find myself giving a slightly different sort of smile, d’you see, so help me God, I find myself feeling a slightly different sort of emotion. I feel a bit false.’
‘He feels a bit false,’ Joanna chattered, ‘and it makes you wonder what sincerity is. I mean to say it’s a question whether the movements of one’s facial muscles are adapted to one’s feelings or the feelings to — Mrs Ramdez, don’t you have anything in your tomato juice?’
Matt fell silent. Joe Ramdez beamed at Freddy, uninhibited by any relation between his feelings and his facial expression. The Arab family all declined alcoholic drinks. The younger daughter had a haunted look. The elder girl was, like the mother, fat and stupid-looking, but the younger daughter was like her brother Abdul, lean and blue-eyed, and she looked haunted. There is a history, Freddy thought, behind that blue-eyed young pair.
Freddy had seen the mother and girls before. They worked in the travel agency. Joe Ramdez had introduced them as ‘my little team.
Joe Ramdez now said to Freddy, ‘It’s better to smile without the heart behind it than not to smile at all.’
‘Oh, he won’t agree with that — not Freddy,’ said Joanna, while Freddy realized he was looking as depressed as he felt.
‘Have my wild flowers been watered this afternoon?’ Joanna said. ‘Freddy, did you see them being watered at all?’
‘I did,’ Freddy said, as if it was a duty he had performed; he longed for that earlier departed hour in the afternoon before this crowd had appeared.
He said, ‘I always feel this garden has such a delightful English atmosphere.’
The younger girl looked apprehensive. The father smiled with a curious histrionic glitter of the eye, by which many modern Arabs intended to express proud loathing; they had got the trick from the cinema, over the years. At any rate, Freddy realized he had said the wrong thing.
Not that Joe Ramdez really cared one way or another. Freddy was aware, however, that Joe had taken the opportunity of umbrage to put him in the wrong. Freddy said, ‘I only mean, of course, that these wild flowers of Joanna’s are nothing more or less than English wild flowers, planted in the countryside by silly women during the Mandate.’
‘Freddy!’ said Joanna.
‘Early tomorrow morning,’ said the wounded Arab, ‘I’m taking my little team on a trip to Amman. It’s our only chance before the tourist season, of really getting into our delightful Jordanian atmosphere.’
The younger girl looked desperately at Freddy. Evidently she was longing to behave in a Westernized mode to suit her clothes, and, no doubt, her feelings. There was no guessing the variety of feelings amongst the very young in these parts.
‘So we must go now,’ said Joe. His little team got up with him. He said to Freddy, ‘By the way, I’ve got to send you a medical form and proposal form. A boy will bring it. I know the doctor whom you can go to. He’s good for deferred endowments even when appearance is unhealthy. I had a client last week that went to Dr Russeifa with his form. Appearance was older than age given. There was impairment of sight and hearing. Pupillary and patellar reflexes were abnormal. Plenty of abdominal varicosities — well, Dr Russeifa has told me all this trouble, but he fixed the client’s medical. Russeifa will make you all right. I’ll make the arrangement.’
When they had gone, Joanna said to her husband, ‘Did you hear what he said about Russeifa? I don’t believe a word of it. Russeifa’s one of the most conscientious men in the medical team.’ They were both deep in local welfare work and were in a position to know what they were talking about.
‘Ramdez is a liar,’ Freddy said, ‘the biggest I’ve ever met. Like an alcoholic. He lies as he breathes.’
‘Well, Freddy …’ said Joanna. She was relaxing on the bench with her drink, relieved at the departure of the Ramdez guests, and now she seemed uncertain how to chatter on, since it was unusual for Freddy to denounce anyone like this.
‘They think in symbols,’ Matt said.
‘That’s it,’ said Joanna. ‘It’s the Arab mentality. They think in symbols. Everything stands for something else. And when they speak in symbols it sounds like lies.’
‘It is lies,’ said Freddy.
‘Oh, Freddy, come! Why are you taking out this insurance policy with Ramdez, dear? It’s asking for trouble.’
‘I’m not taking out any policy,’ Freddy said. ‘His son, who teaches me Arabic over in Israel, has been trying to talk me into it. But I’ve made no definite decision.’
‘You should have said definitely no,’ Matt said. ‘If you don’t say no, they take it you mean yes. That’s symbolic thought.’
‘Not to me,’ Freddy said.
‘Is young Ramdez a nice fellow?’ Joanna said.
‘A remarkably pleasant young man.’
‘Freddy, you mustn’t let him get round you for any insurance policy out here.’
‘I don’t think they’re really interested in insurance, anyway,’ Freddy said.
‘Nor do I,’ said Matt.
‘Nor do I,’ said Joanna.
‘They’re interested in you, Freddy,’ Matt said.
‘You’re a symbol, Freddy.’
‘Yes, but of what?’
‘Something useful in the Foreign Service —’
‘God help me,’ Freddy said, ‘I thought that’s what I really am.’
‘What did you mean by saying that my wild flowers of the Holy Land are English flowers?’
Freddy felt the moment was not ripe to explain his theory to Joanna. Indeed, it might undermine her at this tired moment, which was the last thing … He said instead, ‘Miss Vaughan, the schoolteacher lady, is very pleased with the geraniums you sent, very touched, you know. I believe she’s coming over next week. As I say, she’s a bit tense, but you’ll do her good, Joanna dear.’
‘Oh, do you know,’ Joanna said. ‘I was talking to Joe Ramdez about Miss Vaughan. He’s promised to send one of his drivers to the Gate to pick her up. Isn’t it nice of him? Now really, you must admit that’s good of him. If one of the Ramdez men is there to meet her she won’t have any trouble with the officials.’
‘Is he doing it for free?’ Matt said.
‘Oh yes, and he’ll lay on a guide and everything to take her round.’
‘He must have a reason,’ Matt said.
‘We are the reason,’ Joanna said.
She was darting between her husband’s chair and Freddy’s seat on the bench, in her red dress, collecting their empty glasses and handing them back filled with good strong drinks. ‘Joe Ramdez,’ she said, ‘would do anything for us.’
‘You didn’t,’ said Matt, ‘tell Ramdez that this woman had Jewish blood?’
‘Of course not,’ Joanna said. ‘I only told him there might be trouble with her visa, seeing that it’s unusual for Christian pilgrims to go to the Israel side first.’
‘They mustn’t know anything about her Jewish blood,’ Matt said. ‘She’d be in trouble. We’d all be in trouble. The government here is looking for a bit of trouble with the Jews at the moment.’
‘She’s only half,’ Freddy said.
‘Half is enough,’ Matt said. ‘They think in symbols over here. The Jewish half is the symbolic half.’
‘Which half is the most important to her?’ Joanna said.
‘Don’t ask me. Miss Vaughan’s only a recent acquaintance, you know. Very pleasant woman, of course. And with a British passport. After all, she—’
‘Most of the people arrested as Israeli spies have got British passports,’ Matt said. ‘She’d be taken for an Israeli spy if they knew of any Jewish blood or background and arrived here by way of Israel. Does she realize that?’
<
br /> ‘I really don’t know,’ Freddy said. ‘Is that true? It sounds quite absurd.’
Joanna, in her inexhaustible enthusiasm for seeing to the welfare of others, said, ‘Freddy, you aren’t taking Miss Vaughan’s difficulty seriously enough.’