frightened even the Jerusalem taxi-drivers who crossed her path, men
with a reputation for steel nerves and disregard for danger.
Perched on the pillion David clung to her waist and remonstrated with
her gently as she overtook a solid line of traffic and then cut smartly
across a stream coming in the opposite direction with her exhaust
popping merrily. I'm happy, she explained over her shoulder. Fine!
Then let's live to enjoy it. 'Joe will be surprised to see you. Jr we
ever get there. 'What's happened to your nerve? 'I've just this minute
lost it. She went down the twisting road into the valley of Em Karem,
as though she was driving a Mirage, and called a travelogue back to him
as she went.
That's the Monastery of Mary's Well where she met the mother of John the
Baptist, according to the Christian tradition in which you are a
professed expert. Hold the history, pleaded David.
There's a bus around that bend.
The village was timeless amongst the olive trees, dug into the slope
with its churches and monasteries and high-walled gardens, an oasis of
the picturesque, while the skyline above it was cluttered with the
high-rise apartments of modern Jerusalem.
From the main street Debra scooted into the mouth of a narrow lane,
where high walls of time-worn stone rose on each hand, and braked to a
halt outside a forbidding iron gate.
Home, she said, and wheeled the scooter into the gatehouse and locked it
away before letting them in through a side gate hidden in a corner of
the wall.
They came out into a large garden court enclosed by the high rough
plastered walls which were lime-washed to glaring white. There were
olive trees growing in the court with thick twisted trunks. Vines
climbed the walls and spread their boughs overhead; already there were
bunches of green grapes forming upon them.
The Brig is a crazy keen amateur archaeologist, Debra indicated the
Roman and Greek statues that stood amongst the olive trees, the exhibits
of pottery arnphorae arranged around the walls, and the ancient mosaic
tiles which paved the pathway to the house, It's strictly against the
law, of course, but he spends all his spare time digging around in the
old sites. The kitchen was cavernous with an enormous open fireplace in
which a modern electric stove looked out of place, but the copper pots
were burnished until they glowed and the tiled floor was polished and
sweet smelling.
Debra's mother was a tall slim woman with a quiet manner, who looked
like Debra's older sister. The family resemblance was striking and, as
she greeted them, David thought with pleasure that this was how Debra
would look at the same age. Debra introduced them and announced that
David was a guest for dinner, a fact of which he had been unaware until
that moment.
Please, he protested quickly, I don't want to intrude. He knew that
Friday was a special night in the Jewish home.
You don't intrude. We will be honoured, she brushed aside his protest.
This house is home for most of the boys on Joe's squadron, we enjoy it.
