her the number of the telephone in the crew ready room at the base.
You'll ring me soon, Ella? Don't keep me waiting. 'Tomorrow, she
promised. In the morning. 'Before ten o'clock.
It must be before ten He stood up, and then suddenly he leaned forward
and kissed her sagging and raddled cheek.
Thank you, he said. You are not a bad old bag. 'Away with you, you.
and your blarney. You'd have the sirens of the Odyssey themselves come
running to your bidding. She sniffed moistly. Get away with you now,
I think I'm going to cry, and I want to be alone to enjoy it.
She watched him go up across the lawns under the date palms and at the
gate in the wall he paused and looked back. For a second they stared at
each other and then he stepped through the gate.
She heard the engine of the Mercedes whirr and pull away slowly up the
track, then the note of it rose as it hit the highway and went racing
away southwards. Ella rose heavily and crossed the terrace, went down
the steps towards the jetty and its stone boat houses screened from the
house by past of the ancient wall.
Her speedboat rode at its moorin& restless in the wind and the chop of
the lake. She went on down to the farthest and largest of the boat
houses and stood in the open doorway.
The interior had been stripped and repainted with clean white. The
furniture was simple and functional.
The rugs on the stone floor were for warmth, plain woven wool, thick and
rough. The large bed was built into a curtained alcove in the wall
beside the fireplace.
On the opposite wall was a gas stove with a double cooking ring above
which a number of copper cooking pots hung. A door beyond led through
to a bathroom and toilet which Ella had added very recently.
The only decoration was the Ella Kadesh painting from the house on Malik
Street, which hung on the bare white wall, facing the door. It seemed
to lighten and warm the whole room; below it the girl sat at a working
table. She was listening intently to her own voice speaking in Hebrew
from the tape recorder. Her expression was r apt and intent, and she
stared at the blank wall before her.
Then she nodded her head, smiling at what she had just heard. She
switched off the recorder and turned in the swivel chair to the second
recorder and punched the tran sinit button. She held the microphone
close to her lips as she began to translate the Hebrew into English.
Ella stood in the doorway and watched her work. An American publisher
had purchased the English-language rights of A Place of Our Kin. They
had paid Debra an advance of thirty thousand American dollars for the
book, and an additional five thousand for her services as translator.
She had almost completed the task now.
From where she stood, Ella could see the scar on Debra's temple. It was
a glazed pinkish white against the deeply tanned skin of her face, a
dimple like a child's drawing of a seagull in flight; V-shaped and no
bigger than a snowflake, it seemed to enhance her fine looks, almost
like a beauty spot, a tiny blemish that gave a focus point for her
strong regular features.
