so that she didn’t look at it, which was a stupid reaction but one she couldn’t stop.
At the window she reached out, pulling at the bars without any purpose. It wasn’t with any purpose, she realized, shocked. Until now, this very moment, the idea of escape hadn’t occurred to her. She had been too frightened, too confused, to think of it after being tricked from the apartment. And really terrified, during the ride into France, when she realized what had happened and believed that the big man who kept pressing himself against her really would harm her if she didn’t do everything she was told. But then she had accepted it. Everything had taken on an air of unreality, like some grown-up game she had been tricked into joining and didn’t want to admit she was afraid of playing. She didn’t want to play: she wanted to get back to Richard. Back to sanity. Back to worrying about money and why she wasn’t pregnant at thirty. She pulled at the bar, harder this time; it didn’t move. She would have to think of something, make a plan. Not sink into apathetic acceptance and wait until someone else did something for her. Wasn’t that the attitude that irritated her so much about Richard, the change from the fervent, ever moving, change-the-world man into an acquiescent halfoptimist. She felt suddenly ashamed. That had been a secret thought, until now, hidden always in a corner of her mind, consciously unformed because to form it would make it into a criticism of the man she loved. And she did love him, as much as she ever had. She knew how he felt, because they had talked it through. Richard hadn’t sacrificed any ideals. He had just stopped being manipulated, just as the movements themselves were so often manipulated by the very people or authorities they sought to correct or improve. He was right then. Honest. Why did she argue so much with a man who had done the right and honest thing?
Karen heard them coming and hurried from the window, not wanting them to find her there. It was Levy who came into the room.
“You’re ready?” The man seemed surprised.
“I didn’t sleep much.”
“I’m sorry.”
There was even an unrealitv to the conversation. Karen thought. “I made a list,” she said. It had occupied an hour the previous night, before she had attempted to sleep.
Levy took it without reading it, putting it immediately into his pocket. “Shall we go down?”
Tewfik Azziz was already in the large downstairs room when Karen entered. He stood politely, and she smiled. The Arab waited until she was seated before sitting himself. He passed her a wicker basket of croissants and bread. Richard got them yesterday, she thought; she’d behaved like a stupid child, reducing them to crumbs in her petulance. She shook her head, helping herself instead to coffee.
“What happens now?” Azziz demanded.
“We should hear something today,” said Levy.
“And we’ll be freed?” asked Karen.
“That depends,” said Levy.
“Don’t you know?” said Azziz sarcastically.
“We’ll know soon enough,” said Levy.
Karen looked around the room. Two men, who only spoke to Levy in what she presumed to be Hebrew, lounged casually at the door leading out into the garden, and she could see three more moving around in the kitchen. They were making no effort to conceal their identities.
“Mrs Deaken will exercise first,” announced Levy.
The men who had brought her from Switzerland emerged from the kitchen. Levy crossed to them and she got the impression that they were arguing. She was aware of Azziz close to her.
“You must run if you get the opportunity,” the boy whispered softly. “Forget what he said about one being a hostage for the other.”
She had, Karen realized guiltily. “What about you?”
“They won’t hurt me.”
“They might.”
“Run,” repeated Azziz urgently as Levy turned.
“May I walk with you?” he said.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t mind.”
Karen stopped directly outside the door, putting her head back so that she could feel the sun fully on her face, breathing deeply; only outside the farmhouse was she fully aware of how stale her bedroom had been. There was a man positioned on the far side of the garden, at the gate through which they had entered. They moved off to the left where the garden was most extensive. It was L-shaped, with a low barbered hedge down the middle, like a dividing line. Beyond the bordering fence she could see trees and patchwork fields. On the skyline a group of men were gathering crops around a slowly moving machine. Everything looked peaceful.
“What were you and Azziz talking about?” said Levy.
“He told me not to be afraid.”
Levy looked at her but said nothing. He was only slightly taller than she was, Karen realized. He wore jeans and a short-sleeved shirt; his arms were matted with hair.
“You haven’t got a gun,” she said.
“No.”
“What would you do if I ran?”
“Catch you.”
“What if you didn’t?”
“I told you yesterday that you’re hostages for one another.”
“I don’t think you’d hurt him,” she challenged.
“Don’t put it to the test.”
She saw his hands were gripped tightly at his sides, as if he was angry or tense. “Will you speak to Richard?”
“Why?”
“I want him to know I’m all right. That I love him.”
“No,” he said. “Not me. But he’ll be told you’re all right.”
“Would you hurt me, if Azziz got away?”
“He isn’t going to.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“You’d better hope it is.”
They came to a high hedge, as neatly clipped as the dividing line behind them. The lane that led into the village would be on the other side, Karen decided. She tried to remember how far away the village was. From inside the car it had seemed quite close. She strained, listening for any sound that might be coming from it. She heard cooing and looked back towards the farmhouse.
There was a dovecote on the roof of one of the outbuildings. Pure white birds were preening and parading along the walkway.
“The books and games I promised will be here this afternoon,” said Levy.
“I don’t feel like reading. Or playing games.”
“It’ll be a way of passing the time.”
“Don’t be so bloody patronizing!” The helpless anger burst from her. “Who the fuck do you think you are! What gives you the right to treat me like this… to treat anyone like this? To tell me when to sleep and when to wake and when to eat and when I can breathe fresh air instead of air stinking of my own shit!”
Levy winced at the tirade and at her crudity. “I don’t have to justify myself to you.”
“You supercilious sod!” She lashed out, surprising herself as well as him. Her palm slapped across the side of his face, so hard that he stumbled sideways. It hurt her hand, the physical pain making her realize what she had done. She stepped backwards, slack-armed, not trying to protect herself as he swung in retaliation. Levy pulled back at the last moment, but his slap still made her ears ring.
“You stupid bitch!”
“Bastard!”
They stood confronting each other, like bantam cocks waiting to be released for the fight. Karen saw his hand
