The second conversation wasn’t as easy, because it was about his stake in Steve.
He said, ‘Friends shouldn’t argue over a woman,’ and I didn’t get what he wanted to talk about at first.
‘Agreed. We didn’t argue about Mariam, did we?’ She was a girl we’d both known in Egypt – the one who had run off with a weightlifter, and married America. She always got her priorities right.
‘But you weren’t attached to her. I think you are attached to Stephanie. Are we going to argue about her?’
I pulled my lip. I felt uncomfortable. I felt uncomfortable because I had broken several taboos, and we both knew it. Thou shalt not fall in love with a prostitute should have been the eleventh commandment – for either sex. So I told him, ‘I’m sorry if I’ve made things difficult for you. Is it so obvious?’
‘To those who know you well, yes. I am not worried about the affection you have for her, just that she is no longer my most profitable employee. Now she is just another mouth to feed.’
I wasn’t quite sure what he meant.
‘Doesn’t she still dance for you?’
‘Yes, but that’s all she does . . . and to be strictly honest, she’s not a very talented dancer. Our clients appreciated that her talents lay . . . in other directions.’
‘I thought that after she’d danced . . . she was, well . . . self-employed, to coin a phrase.’
‘She is. The establishment takes a percentage for facilitating the business contact, and providing a working space.’
‘Her bed, you mean?’
‘Yes, if you like, and it’s become a very peaceful bed when you are not here.’
‘Because she’s not whoring up to her usual standards, you’re not getting your cut. Is that it?’
‘Crudely put, Charlie, but exact. I thought I’d mention it. Her regular clients are fretting. I get telephone calls from gentlemen in Nicosia almost every day. They are distraught.’
‘What have you told them?’
‘That she is ill. That was foolish, because one is a doctor, and now he is demanding to examine her. Some of her other friends are almost as pressing.’
‘And how long has this been going on?’
‘A week, ten days.’
‘What do you want from me?’
‘Talk to her, Charlie. All I want is a decision.’
‘And if she has decided to . . . take a rest? A holiday?’
‘Fine, and I mean that – really fine. She can dance for her room as long as she pays her bar bills, and for her food and laundry. It’s nothing personal – it’s just that I don’t want the other girls getting ideas. This is a business, not a charity.’
‘Your clubs have always been charities, David. You have always looked after your girls, even given them dowries when they wed.’
‘You mustn’t be a romantic, Charlie – that too is purely business. The dowries are simple investments, nothing more. Laying up treasure in heaven. When the girls come back to me, and mostly they do, they work even harder to please me. You will talk to Stephanie?’
‘Of course I will. What about her clients?’
‘The other girls will provide friendly diversions for them. Stephanie’s clients are good payers – respectable men. I can arrange that if necessary.’
‘Thank you, David. You were right, old friends shouldn’t fall out over a woman.’
He leaned forward and supported his chin with a hand.
‘Old friends. I like the idea of old friends.’
‘So do I, David.’ We left it at that.
Bed had not worked, leaving us both feeling vaguely unsatisfied. Getting past that for the first time is a landmark in any relationship. Steve sat across the room from me wrapped in a rumpled sheet. I was turning out the pockets of my jacket, looking for my pipe and tobacco pouch: smoking is something I often do if I want to avoid facing a problem. Steve wasn’t that type. She smiled impishly at me without saying anything, until I asked her, ‘What happened there?’
‘We both did what we thought we ought to be doing, rather than what we wanted to do.’
‘What did you want to do?’
‘Talk to you about the little things I don’t know about you – what’s your favourite book, that sort of thing.’
‘Treasure Island. It’s been my book since I was ten. I loved Ben Gunn and John Silver . . .’ My mother had read to me until the old man came home from work; then he took over.
It led me to ask her, ‘Do you miss them much, your mother and father?’
She looked away; one of those moments of weakness. She blinked the tears back.
‘That was cruel, Charlie.’
‘Do you?’
‘Of course I do, but it’s impossible – I told you why.’
‘Why don’t we go down and visit them – sort it out?
‘Are you mad?’
‘No, I don’t think so. I’ll finish up here sooner rather than later, won’t I? And you can leave whenever you want. What’s the point of me being in the airline business if I can’t use my wasta to get us tickets down to South Africa and back?’
‘Why on earth would you want to meet my family? You might hate them.’
‘And I might not. I need to meet your dad anyway, don’t I?’
‘Why?’
‘I’ll need his permission to marry you.’
That brought things to an emergency stop.
Steve could unnerve you by staring at you for a long time without saying anything. That’s what she did. I filled my pipe, and let the aromatic smell of its burning tobacco lay over the pink perfumes of Steve’s room. She got up, and went over to the window trailing the sheet, like a trousseau, I thought. She probably didn’t see it that way. When she spoke it was in a whisper so low that I had to incline my head towards her to pick it up.
‘Isn’t there a girl in England?’
‘There have been. But none of them took me seriously.’
‘What about you? Are you serious?’
‘I am this time. Don’t ask me why. I
