Thank you for all your help, David. I'm sorry you have to go. It was
fun. Then her voice dropped slightly and there was a tiny quiver in it.
I hope you find what you are looking for. Good luck. She turned
quickly and hurried away to her room.
Hannah's expression was steely, and she gave David a curt nod before
following Debra. So long, Joe. 'I'll carry your bag.
Don't bother, David tried to stop him.
No trouble. Joe took it out of his hand and carried it out to the
Mustang. He dumped it on the rear seat.
I'll ride up to the top of the hills with you and walk back. He climbed
into the passenger seat and settled comfortably. I need the exercise.
David drove swiftly, and they were silent as Joe deliberately lit a
cigarette and flicked the match out the window.
I don't know what went wrong, Davey, but I can guess.
David didn't reply, he concentrated on the road.
She's had a bad time. These last few days she has been different.
Happy, I guess, and I thought it was going to work out.
Still David was silent, not giving him any help. Why didn't the big
bonehead mind his own business.
She's a pretty special sort of person, Davey, not because she's my
sister. She really is, and I think you should know about her, just so
you don't think too badly about her. They had reached the top of the
hills above the town and the bay. David pulled on to the verge but kept
the engine running. He looked down on the brilliant blue of the sea,
where it met the cliffs and the pine-covered headlands.
She was going to be married, said Joe softly. He was a nice guy, older
than she was, they worked together at the University. He was a tank
driver in the reserve and he took a hit in the Sinai and burned with his
tank David turned and looked at him, his expression softening a little.
She took it badly Joe went on doggedly. These last few days were the
first time I've seen her truly happy and relaxed. He shrugged and
grinned like a big St. Bernard dog. Sorry to give you the family
history, Davey. just thought it might help. He held out a huge brown
hand. Come and see us. It's your country also, you know. I'd like to
show it to you.
David took the hand. I might do that, he said. Shalom. Shalom, Joe.
Good luck. Joe climbed out of the car and when David pulled away he
watched him standing on the side of the road with his hands on his hips.
He waved and the first bend in the road hid him.
There was a school for aspiring Formula I racing drivers on a neglected
concrete circuit near Ostia, on the road from Rome. The course lasted
three weeks and cost $500 U. S.
David stayed at the Excelsior in the Via Veneto, and commuted each day
to the track. He completed the full course, but after the first week
knew it was not what he wanted. The physical limitation of the track
was constricting after flying the high heavens, and even the crackling
snarling power of a Tyrell Ford could not match the thrust from the
engine of a jet interceptor.
Although he lacked the dedication and motivation of others in his class
