The Women of the Souk Read online

  It was the kind of remark that endeared McPhee to Owen. It drove other people mad. It was generally said that McPhee was too tender-hearted for his own good. He should have been put out to pasture years before.

  He was certainly different from the usual colonial policeman. Most of them were ex-soldiers. McPhee had his uses, however. He was able to talk to elderly Egyptian women, a skill which very few people possessed. An old dear talking to old dears, his friend Paul had once said unkindly. But sometimes you needed people like that. Such as now, when it might be handy to have someone who could talk to Mrs Kewfik and bypass the martinet brother.

  Owen went back to his room, where the girl was still sitting. She looked up at him hopefully.

  ‘It is as you supposed,’ he said gently. ‘Your friend has been kidnapped.’

  ‘Oh!’ she gasped, and shrank back visibly.

  ‘The good thing is she is still alive. Not only that: they appear to have opened negotiations and while they are continuing Marie should, I think, be safe.’

  She sat for a moment taking this in, then she said: ‘Who is conducting the negotiations?’

  ‘On Marie’s side, her uncle.’

  ‘That is a pity,’ she said. ‘I don’t think he likes Marie.’

  ‘Is that a personal thing?’

  ‘I don’t think he likes women generally. But he certainly doesn’t like young girls like Marie. He thinks they are too forward, immodest. I spoke to him once, just to ask if he had seen Marie – we were in the Kewfiks’ house, it’s a big one and I didn’t know my way around, and had lost her – and he glared at me as if I had done something awful, just by speaking to him. He didn’t answer, just walked straight past, and I’m pretty sure he’s like that with Marie. Once she spoke to him about something minor and he snapped at her and then complained to her mother. I heard all this and was amazed! I don’t think there is anything personal in it, it’s just the way he is with women.’

  ‘It ought not affect the negotiations anyway.’

  ‘No.’

  She seemed doubtful, however.

  ‘It may be taken out of his hands,’ Owen said.

  ‘That would be best.’

  She stood up, then hesitated.

  ‘Do you think it would be all right if I sent Mrs Kewfik a letter, saying we were all thinking of her?’

  ‘I don’t see why you shouldn’t. Although, of course, no one is supposed to know.’

  ‘I needn’t say anything about the kidnapping. I can just say we’re sorry Marie’s been away and hope she comes back soon.’

  ‘That would be best, I think.’

  He thought for a moment.

  ‘Could the letter be sent through some neutral person, who wouldn’t raise the uncle’s hackles?’

  ‘Hackles?’

  Although her English was good, this was a new one on her.

  ‘Make him cross.’

  ‘Anything makes him cross! But I know what you mean. I can send it through Aimée’s mother. She’s great friends with Marie’s mother.’

  ‘That sounds a good idea.’

  She put her hand out.

  ‘And thank you very much, Captain Owen. It has been very kind of you.’

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘The thing is she must still be alive.’

  ‘And where there’s life,’ said Owen, ‘there’s hope.’

  ‘I know that one,’ she said.

  She had hardly left the room when Owen heard his phone go in the outer office. It was from the Consul-General’s Assistant who was a particular friend of Owen’s. They worked closely together and between them managed to forestall a lot of problems which would otherwise have landed on the Consul-General’s desk. As possibly now.

  ‘Gareth,’ said Paul, ‘have you heard about Kewfik’s daughter?’

  ‘Only that she has been kidnapped. I hope there have been no nasty developments?’

  ‘Not yet as far as I know. They’re still negotiating. That’s what I want to talk to you about. The family has been on to the Khedive apparently. They’re not happy about the way things are going.’

  ‘McPhee says that negotiations are being handled on the family side by an elderly uncle who’s not up to the mark.’

  ‘The Khedive says that, too. But he also says that the police aren’t up to it either.’

  ‘McPhee, you mean?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, there’s something to be said for that point of view.’

  ‘The Old Man thinks that too, he reckons that McPhee is out of his depth.’

  ‘Very probably.’

  ‘They’ve put their heads together, the Khedive and the Old Man, and they feel that the thing to do is take it out of the hands of the pair of them, the uncle and McPhee.’

  ‘I can see the logic.’

  ‘And get it handled by someone else.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of this!’

  ‘You’re right: the obvious person is you.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘The Old Man would be happier that way, and the Khedive would not be unhappy. If things went wrong, the British could be blamed. There’s a snag though.’

  ‘Just the one?’

  ‘The uncle … he’s not willing. He wants to keep in control.’

  ‘One of those, is he?’

  ‘Yes, and there’s a further consideration: money.’

  ‘Money?’

  ‘The uncle doesn’t want to pay out just for a girl. Now a boy might be different. And as it happens, the uncle’s got a son. In the uncle’s view, he’s just the chap for the job. Although apparently, in no one else’s.’

  ‘What is the father’s attitude?’

  ‘Curiously, the father favours his daughter. Or so the mother says. The uncle says she’s not to be trusted. She’s a woman. But there’s some evidence that the father loves his daughter. There! What a strange thing in an Egyptian family! Unfortunately, for the daughter, the father is out of it. He’s had a stroke.’

  ‘So the uncle holds the cards?’

  ‘Not quite all of them. The mother is the sister of one of the Khedive’s wives.’

  ‘God spare us harem politics!’

  ‘My thought entirely. Mind you though, McPhee says the mother is very nice.’

  Owen groaned.

  ‘And he says the daughter is too.’

  ‘Marie, this is?’

  ‘Well, I’m not on Christian name terms with her – Owen, how comes it that you are? I thought you knew nothing about all this.’

  ‘I do know nothing about all this. But as it happens, I have been approached by an interested party.’

  ‘Exactly who? Come on, out with it, Gareth.’

  ‘The sixth form at the Khedivial.’

  There was a silence.

  ‘The sixth form at the Khedivial? The Girls’ Khedivial?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Did you say you had been approached? By them?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Gareth, your contacts are unrivalled and I am full of admiration.’

  ‘Marie is in their class.’

  ‘Marie, is it?’

  ‘Yes. She’s the one who has been kidnapped. The prime mover in all this appears to be Layla.’

  ‘Layla. Yes, I see.’

  ‘She’s quite a girl, Paul.’

  ‘I’m sure she is. Gareth, does Zeinab know about this?’

  ‘I don’t think so. In fact, I must tell her.’

  ‘You certainly must.’

  ‘In fact, they wanted to approach her themselves.’

  ‘They?’

  ‘The sixth form. The movers in all this.’

  ‘Layla and that lot?’

  ‘Yes. They wanted action, you see, and weren’t getting it. Action over Marie, I mean, and they thought that if they worked on Zeinab, she would work on me.’

  ‘I see, yes. So, actually, we’re getting to the same place. Only in my case much later than everyone else
. We all want you to take over the negotiations!’

  ‘I’m not very keen myself.’

  ‘Too bad, old boy. The weight of Egypt is against you.’

  There was a long pause. Then, ‘Gareth, I am reeling far behind in all this. But exactly why was it that they wanted to approach Zeinab? I yield to no one in my admiration for Zeinab, but …’

  ‘Actually, I think you do. The senior girls at the Khedivial are all great admirers of Zeinab. They see her as a New Woman. New in Egypt, at any rate. A woman who stands up for herself, and other women generally, and gets things done. In the face of opposition from people like Marie’s uncle. The old men who have had their day and are trying to block off Egypt from entry into the modern world. And especially blocking off women.’

  ‘Suffragettes, that sort of thing?’

  ‘That sort of thing, yes.’

  ‘Well, good for them, say I. But I think they’ll have a hard job in Egypt.’

  ‘Impossible job, I agree, but good on them for trying.’

  ‘They’re the voice of the young, I suppose.’

  ‘And we’re the views of the old! It’s the end of the dinosaurs, Paul, and we’re among the dinosaurs!’

  Nikos put his head around the door.

  ‘Kewfik Efendi to see you,’ he said.

  ‘Kewfik?’

  But it wasn’t the uncle who came in but a much younger man.

  ‘Hello, Owen,’ he said confidently. He put out his hand. ‘Ali Osman Fingari; I don’t think we’ve met. I’m handling things now. For my father and, of course, for my uncle. At the Khedive’s request. The fact is, Owen, my father’s getting a bit doddery now and there’s a mountain, an absolute mountain, of things for him to do, especially now that my uncle is hors de combat – did you know that he had had a stroke? Well, he has and my father has taken over. And he’s asked me to help him out. Actually, it was the Khedive’s idea. He said that my father is getting on a bit and we should be looking for ways of reducing the burden on him not adding to it. And perhaps taking over from my uncle in the negotiations over the girl – you know about that, of course? – is about the last straw, and maybe we should take the chance to look to the future.

  ‘Well, you know, the Khedive’s quite right. The Old Man’s getting a bit erratic these days. I’ve suggested I help him out but he’s strangely unwilling to hand things over. You know these old blokes! Unwilling to let go. I’ve been suggesting that to him for some time but he won’t have it. There’s plenty of time, he says. Well, there isn’t, not in his case. If he doesn’t watch out he’ll end up in hospital like my uncle. I think that came as a bit of a shock to him. A bit of a warning, you know. I said to him, “Look, Father, you can’t go on like this or you’ll pay the consequences.” Well, as I say, I have been trying to tell him this for some time without getting anywhere, but I think my uncle’s stroke may have been a bit of a lesson, and then the Khedive put his oar in.

  ‘I’m a bit of a rowing man, Owen, did you know that? I used to row when I was at Harrow. You know Harrow, of course? Didn’t go there yourself, by any chance? No? Well, I did. They insisted I take up sport of some kind, so I took up rowing. You can do it sitting down. Never regretted it. Thought I might take it up again here, on the Nile, you know, just whizz up and down. Thought I might get up a crew over here, you know, but never got round to it. Now I never shall, I suppose. With all the new responsibilities coming in on me. I won’t have the time.’

  ‘This business of the girl …’ said Owen.

  ‘Oh, that won’t take long to sort out. My father’s been making too much of it. It’s just a question of money, I tell him. Offer the chaps enough and they’ll be eating out of your hand! In the end, it’ll be less bother! But he doesn’t see it like that. He doesn’t like the thought of giving money away. “It’s just a girl!” he said. “It’s just money!” I said. We’ve got plenty and if they won’t take it, we can keep it! We can’t lose!’

  ‘And you’re in touch with the kidnappers, are you?’

  ‘Oh, that’s being handled by one of my uncle’s men.’

  ‘Is he up to it?’

  ‘He’d better be! Or I’ll have the hide off him!’

  ‘But can you rely on people like that?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘In situations of this sort, you don’t want things to go wrong.’

  ‘Beat them hard enough and they won’t go wrong!’

  ‘I was thinking of the Khedive.’

  ‘The Khedive?’

  ‘What he might say if they go wrong.’

  ‘They won’t go wrong!’

  ‘I am glad you feel so confident, Kewfik Effendi.’

  ‘It is true that they are inexperienced men, working high above their station.’

  ‘Just remember the Khedive will be following everything you do, Kewfik Effendi.’

  ‘Following everything I do?’

  ‘Well, of course! So if anything goes wrong, you may be blamed more easily. Remember, too, that although you may think you have the ear of the Khedive, there will be others who think that too.’

  ‘Others?’

  ‘I understand that the girl’s mother is the sister of one of the Khedive’s wives.’

  ‘Oh her, yes. But I have never paid her much attention.’

  ‘I suggest you do so now, Kewfik Effendi. You are in an exposed position. Exposed positions can be dangerous. I speak as a friend.’

  ‘Yes, yes. Thank you, Mamur Zapt.’

  ‘Remember, you can always count on me for help.’

  ‘I will, Mamur Zapt. I will – and thank you very much!’

  ‘Just take care, that’s all.’

  ‘Thank you. Yes, thank you, Mamur Zapt. These cursed harem politics!’

  TWO

  This time there were two of them in the yard: Layla, whom he knew, and a more diminutive uniformed figure, whom she was clutching by the collar. Nikos, clearly wondering if there were yet more of them to come, entered the room, frowning his disapproval.

  ‘She is here again!’ he said.

  ‘Show her in!’

  Layla came in holding a tiny, terrified figure.

  ‘This is Minya,’ she said.

  ‘Hello, Minya!’

  ‘Bonjour, monsieur,’ she just managed.

  ‘Minya has something to tell you,’ Layla said.

  Perhaps she had, but she was so terrified that she couldn’t utter. Layla gave her a shake and then, when words didn’t roll out of her, took over the narrative herself.

  ‘Minya goes to school with Marie every morning. There is a servant but Marie doesn’t like to bother with him so sends him away. But Minya stays with her because her parents have asked Marie to look after her. She was with her that morning.’

  ‘That morning?’

  ‘When Marie disappeared.’

  ‘So she saw …?’

  ‘She didn’t see anything. She was probably still half asleep. How Marie puts up with her I don’t know. But she was with her that morning. Taking her to school as usual. They usually go through the souk. Marie likes to go through the bazaars so that she can look at the fabrics and see what new ones have come in. Also she likes to try out the perfumes.

  ‘That is what they did that morning. Minya says they spent a long time trying out the perfumes because Marie couldn’t make up her mind. They were getting late and Minya was worried – Minya worries very easily – but Marie said that she wanted to try out a scent just one more time. They were almost at the school gates so Marie said she would go back by herself and went off. Minya hurried on in, pretty sure that by this time she would be late for roll call, and she didn’t see Marie again.

  ‘She forgot all about her but later in the afternoon she heard people talking and began to guess that something had gone wrong. Everyone was asking where Marie was and Minya didn’t like to say anything because she thought that Marie might not want her to say anything because she ought not to have gone into the souk to try out the perfumes. So she kept q
uiet and then when it was clear that people were really worried about Marie and beginning to think that something serious had happened to her, she was too frightened to say anything and hid in a corner of the playground until going home time and by then it was too late.

  ‘She probably wouldn’t ever have told anyone but she has a cousin in one of the upper forms and this cousin knew that Minya usually went to school with Marie and asked her directly, and then she burst into tears and wouldn’t stop. The cousin wanted her to go to the Headmistress but she wouldn’t. She was too frightened. So the cousin came and told me, and I thought of going to the Head with her but then I thought: what good would that do? Marie was probably already dead by that time, so I decided to bring her straight to you.’

  Minya was now crying steadily.

  ‘I wanted to tell someone, I really did. But I thought they would blame me.’

  ‘As they should,’ said Layla.

  ‘I kept meaning to but kept putting it off.’

  ‘Worm,’ said Layla pitilessly.

  ‘And then it got harder and then I heard someone say that Marie was probably dead, and I couldn’t bear it! I knew it was my fault. I wanted to die. I tried to die, but it just wouldn’t come! I want to die!’

  ‘Don’t think you’re going to get off that lightly,’ said Layla.

  Minya went on crying.

  Nikos stuck his head in and quickly retreated. One thing he could not cope with was children crying.

  ‘She’s dead, and I’ve killed her!’ sobbed Minya.

  ‘Yes, she probably is, and you have,’ said Layla fiercely.

  Owen decided to take a hand.

  ‘She may not be,’ he said. ‘In fact, it’s unlikely that she is. They will be wanting to make some money out of her so they’ll keep her alive.’

  Minya was inconsolable.

  ‘It’s my fault!’ she sobbed. ‘I killed her. I just want to die! Please, let me die!’

  ‘Then make it quick!’ said Layla.

  ‘No, you didn’t,’ said Owen. ‘She’s almost certainly alive and well. They’ll be looking after her very carefully.’

  Minya stopped crying.

  ‘Do you think so?’ she said. ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘They won’t want to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs,’ said Layla.

  ‘I’m sure my father will pay anything,’ said Minya.