By the way the sending speed went up I guessed they’d switched from doing strategic positions in the Middle East, to running a book on the Miss World contest. A tall blonde Swede was odds on to win.
I’d met guys like Pat before. I’d met Pat before, come to that, but he had reinvented himself since then, and had come out with more influence – what they call wasta in the Arab-speaking countries. He was still only a corporal, but a corporal who seemed to be able to go anywhere, and no one actually knew what he did, except run the motor pool. He almost certainly didn’t have the clearance for the radio room, but no one was going to challenge him; probably half the guys around me owed him money. I wondered how much de Whitt was into him for – he looked suddenly nervous when Pat strolled in.
I was dry. I got us both a half-pint of water from the cooler, and when I sat down asked him, ‘Why didn’t you warn me about Watson’s new monster?’
‘I wanted to surprise you. Neat, ain’t she?’
‘Neat? She looks as if Aveling Barford thought her up during a slack period.’ I was being cruel again. Aveling Barford was a company which made road rollers and caterpillar tractors – like Blaw-Knox or Massey Ferguson.
‘I think she’s kinda neat. Gonna take her out at the weekend.’
‘Don’t go near the zoo – they’ll never let her out again.’
‘There used to be a zoo,’ he said wistfully, ‘but all the animals were Greek, so I think the Turks let them out and shot them.’
‘Where will you take her?’
‘A few places in Famagusta still safe, if you know whose palm to grease – then back to my place and knickers off.’
‘You got to be joking!’
‘I told you, I think she’s kinda neat. I called her Tarzan the first time I met her, an’ she smiled. I knew she liked me for not duckin’ the issue.’
‘She smiled at me too. I think she thought I was a snack.’ But I was interested in spite of myself. ‘You said my place. Where do you billet, Pat?’
‘I got a room to myself in the motor pool – used to be the orderly room – but I meant my flat. I got a nice flat in Famagusta, round the corner from Tony’s place.’
I reminded myself to remember that.
‘What did you want, anyway? Carrying another message from our master?’
‘Nothin’ like that. Jest wanted half an hour under the AC, and a glass of cool water. You got it easy in here.’
‘And?’
‘I was thinking of going over to Yassine’s place again tonight. Wanna come?’
‘Yes, please. When?’
‘Stay put an’ I’ll pick you up.’
As he got up to leave I asked him a question that had been hovering since he’d shown up.
‘Is there anyone out here who doesn’t owe you money?’
He gave me his sunny smile.
‘You, Charlie, but I’m working on it.’
Halfway through the evening David Yassine put a large plate of stuffed vine leaves on the table. It wasn’t the first time I’d come across the dish, but I’ve always loved it. I can take you to a small seafront café in Kuwait City where they serve it for breakfast with a Lebanese platter: you’ll never forget it.
David’s dancing girls were never hired for possessing the Middle Eastern standard dancing figure. They were young, hungry and slim. He picked them for their dancing ability, not their rolling figures. Spend an hour watching them at work, and your brain is lost for a fortnight. One of them reminded me of Mariam, and after too many beers and Yassine’s best bootleg brandy, that made me feel unbearably sad. OK, so I’m just making an excuse: it was why I woke up in the small hours alongside her. I couldn’t remember having had much conversation with her before we went skin diving.
She asked, ‘What’s your name, sailor?’
‘Charlie. What’s yours?’
‘Stephanie – Steve.’ She left my side, went to the window and drew back the blinds. It was still dark outside. I lay on my side, and counted the stars I could see. Eleven. I thought one of them was Sirius: it was low down in the South and very bright. Twinkle, twinkle, little star. Stephanie came back to bed, cuddled in to me, and said, ‘Go on. Why don’t you ask me?’
‘Ask you what?’ I bent and kissed her brow. I sensed one of my tender moments coming on; this is where I usually fucked up.
‘What’s a nice American girl like me doing in a joint like this?’
‘No.’
She paused. I had captured her attention. That was interesting. I cupped one of her breasts in my hand and stroked it with the ball of my thumb. That was interesting too.
‘What do you mean by no, Charlie?’
‘No, I’m not going to ask you that. I don’t want to know. I’ll make up a reason for myself.’
‘Such as?’
‘Maybe you ran away from a circus.’ I already felt like having her again, but couldn’t remember having agreed a rate. Sometimes it pays to be direct. ‘How much shall I leave you in the morning?’
‘As much as you like – it will be my tip. David told me to take care of you, so he’ll do the paying. He’s a honey, isn’t he?’ Someone else had used the word honey about men recently, but the thought eluded me.
As the sky began to clear we fell to talking again. I asked, ‘Can I take you for breakfast somewhere, when we get up?’
‘What?’ She sounded sleepy; like a diver ascending from a deep dive. I feel like that myself from time to time.
‘Is there anywhere safe nearby, where I can take you to breakfast later?’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’d like to see what you look like in daylight. Nothing
