We passed a body on the road. Tossed into a gully by the wayside, like a piece of discarded rubbish. He had been a man once. I could clearly see the dried bloodstains on his dirty djellaba. He was surrounded by a cloud of flies, and a bizarre scattering of fruits; some of which were mashed into the road surface; we weren’t the first to drive past him.
Trigger yawned and observed, ‘That’s ’ow you know we’re more civilized than your average wog. Our boys often vanish without a trace; as if they’d never been on the Earth. But we always leaves them the bodies to bury. It’s because of differences like that the wog’s not to be trusted to run the Canal.’
‘Maybe he was only a poor fucking greengrocer after all . . .’
‘Then he shouldn’t have argued with a Bren gun, should he?’
I’d already heard that there were revenge killings and beatings of Egyptians after a murder of one of ours; some divisional commanders were even rumoured to encourage it. When would that nonsense stop? When we were simply tired of killing each other, or when the politicians realized that it wasn’t going to work any more? Maybe it would go on until there were no longer any of us left on either side to die – I really didn’t deserve to be in this bloody madhouse.
‘Why don’t you get some kip?’ Roy asked me. ‘You’ve ’ad a busy weekend. I’ll wake you up when I have to start calling you sir again.’ There it goes again: what comes around goes around. What we need is a world where everyone calls each other ‘sir’, or else no one does it at all. Believe me: if they ever make me dictator of the British, the only bullshit left will come out of creatures with four legs and a bad attitude.
Watson was always uncomfortable with what he called that kind of a conversation. He was better at bludgeoning the uneducated to death with public-school vowels than coping with the meeting of two equal minds which comprised that kind of a conversation.
After a pause into which I could have played a rumba he asked, ‘What’s on your mind, Charlie?’
‘A greasy fat bastard called David Yassine is on my mind.’ I had already decided not to say anything about my personal and unexpected connection with the fat man. I was sure that he wouldn’t have told Watson yet – he would surely save that titbit up until he could make use of it. ‘When I walked into his club he already expected me. He knew my name and description, and as much as admitted that you had given them to him.’
Watson looked shifty. That was interesting. He called Daisy before he replied to me.
‘Another couple of the same if you don’t mind, old dear; Charlie’s thirsty.’ Then he told me, ‘It’s just a little arrangement we have. He keeps an eye out for my lads on his premises, and keeps them out of trouble. It’s a shocking place, really; you’ve got no idea what goes on there.’
‘And you buy information from him; and route duff intelligence to the Gyppoes through him when you feel like it.’
‘Hang on, old son, that’s a bit stiff. You’ve no reason to say that.’
‘Yes I bloody have, sir. I know exactly what you’re like, and I spent an evening getting to know Yassine. I’ve met people like him all over Europe. They’re the Clapham Junction in human form: information in/information out – and the bell on the cash register never stops ringing. I’d hoped I was clear of all that when I came out here.’
‘Maybe I should have told you to be careful,’ he admitted grudgingly, ‘. . . seeing as we’ve worked together before.’
‘Have you told any of the others?’
‘No, as a matter of fact.’
‘Then bloody don’t. They’ll lynch you – boss or not.’
Daisy came in with another couple of drinks. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t the quick on-off smile to grimace I got – as if she’d gone off me in a big way.
After she left I asked loudly, hoping she’d hear, ‘What’s up with her?’
‘Don’t know, Charlie; funny creatures women . . . she’s been giving me the silent routine for a couple of days. I would have minded if she hadn’t been doing the same to everyone. It looks like Little Miss Sunshine has gone on holiday, and left something dark in her place.’ That was interesting – and you know what I’m like by now, I was going to make a point of finding out what was what.
‘Is that the end of that sort of a conversation for the time being? Can we get back to sir and Charlie?’
‘If you like, sir.’
‘Good, after you’ve got yourself sorted out, nip over to the Doc’s
