Michael Pearce - The Bride Box
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- Название:The Bride Box
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- Издательство:Severn House
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- Год:2013
- ISBN:нет данных
- Рейтинг книги:5 / 5. Голосов: 1
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‘Experienced!’ said the porter.
‘As my wife says, a bit of experience goes a long way!’
‘She says that, does she?’ said the porter, grinning.
‘Tells in my favour,’ said the Greek. ‘And at my age you need something that tells in your favour!’
‘You need size, too. And energy!’
‘I had the size. But now I’ve lost the energy.’
‘Pity!’
‘It matters. You see, my wife is younger than I am.’
‘That has its advantages.’
‘True. But sometimes I worry … The thing is, she’s a bit of a beauty. Was a dancing girl.’
‘A dancing girl?’
‘Yes. Very supple. You’d be surprised!’
‘She can get up to things, can she?’
‘Oh, yes. She’s a bit older now than when we first married, but she’s still … well, you know!’
‘Oh, yes, I know!’
‘She’s still got her figure. A regular Scheherazade!’
‘But misses the energy?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Well, that’s not all bad, is it?’
‘No, but it’s demanding.’
‘You can’t keep up?’
‘Not any more. You’d need to be, well, like the Khedive himself. If half of what I’ve heard is true.’
‘It’s having so many wives that does it. Keeps you in trim.’
‘One’s enough for me!’
‘Especially if she’s the way you say she is!’
‘The trouble is, I’m out so much.’
‘That must be a real worry. In the circumstances.’
‘Oh, it is. You see, I can’t keep my eye on her all the time. I’ve got a job to do, after all.’
‘Well, yes. Look, I’m around quite a bit of the time. I’ll keep a lookout and tip you the word if I see anything going on.’
‘Would you?’
‘No problem at all!’ said Abdul, grinning.
Abdul was still sitting at the pavement restaurant the next time the Greek went past. He dropped down beside him.
‘The work’s not come through yet, then?’
‘No. The stuff is coming in by train and it’s not here yet. But Nassir likes me to be right at hand when it does. His boss likes it to be just so. And if it’s not, he kicks Nassir’s backside! When it’s coming up, Nassir gets all edgy.’
‘It’s for Nassir, is it? He was telling me about it. He’s got to be here himself, he was saying, and right on the dot!’
‘That’s right. And he wants me to stay close while it’s on the boil. That’s why I’m sitting around here. The moment the train gets in I’ve got to get everyone together so that we can go over the moment he gives us the say-so. We’ve not to be on the platform; his boss doesn’t like that. He says it draws attention to the consignment. So we’ve got to be just round the corner and then get round there in a flash. And then it’s pick the boxes up — and they’re bloody heavy, too — and take them round to the warehouse immediately, with Nassir leading the way and his boss right behind us breathing down our necks!’
‘Gets you a bit edgy, too, I would think!’ said the Greek sympathetically.
‘Oh, I don’t mind it,’ said Abdul. ‘The money’s good, and it doesn’t last long. And then we’re off round to the beerhouse the moment after.’
‘That’s all right, then,’ said the Greek, laughing.
‘I’m not saying that it’s not. Mind you, as I say to Nassir, it’s not the smartest way of doing things. Because we’ve got to move them on again afterwards, and if we did it at the same time and just moved them on straightaway to where they’ve got to go, it would save time and money. But I’m not really complaining. That way he does it makes two jobs out of one, so that’s better for us.’
‘Is the second move a big one? Much of a carry?’
‘No. It’s just around the corner, to the madrassa. It doesn’t take a moment and it would be easy for us to do the first time.’
‘You don’t want to tell him that,’ said the Greek.
‘I don’t reckon Nassir wants to tell him that,’ said Abdul. ‘Otherwise it would all have been done in the one job years ago. But I reckon that this way Nassir makes something out of it.’
‘That’s the way of the world!’ said the Greek.
Although he gave no outward sign of it, the moment the porter mentioned the madrassa, Georgiades become alert. Madrassas were schools. Not the new state schools the government was building, but the old, traditional, religious schools. They came in various shapes and sizes. Usually they took the form of pupils gathered around a teacher who would instruct them in the Koran. Instruction meant learning by heart. The leader would read or recite a passage from the Koran and the pupils would repeat it until they were word perfect. There was some explanation of the passage but the main thing was to commit it to heart.
Often the teaching would take place not in the classroom but beneath pillars of a mosque. The teacher would sit with his back against one of the pillars and the pupils would gather round him. Sometimes the pupils were very young, barely more than toddlers, not even carrying slates. But sometimes they were burly adolescents who used their slates not for writing on but as missiles. You would find them setting the pace in almost any riot.
Usually the rioting was spontaneous, a bit of adolescent fun, on the whole harmless, as Owen had to frequently point out to his superiors, both Khedivial and British. But sometimes it was not and then, often, it was not fun. The madrassas frequently served as centres for radical movements drawing on the young. Cairo abounded in political societies and many of these were based on or grew out of madrassas.
Madrassas were the bane of Nikos’s life. They were always causing trouble. He monitored them as best he could; he had a list of them as long as your arm. But they kept coming and going; they were essentially fluid and difficult to keep track of. Some were religious in orientation and some were exclusively political; some were reformist and many revolutionary. Some were violent.
If trouble was coming, it was usually coming from the madrassas.
So when Georgiades reported back to Nikos what the porter had said, Nikos immediately switched on. He knew from long experience that this was the moment when you could nip potential violence in the bud. It wasn’t a long moment; it could burst into open rioting very quickly, and then it was very difficult to deal with. But, just for a moment, if you could intervene early and decisively, you could stop it in its tracks.
The important thing was early intelligence, which, he thought, in this case he had acquired. But he had not yet got enough. He sent Georgiades out again. This was their job: to find out what they could. And then present their findings to the Mamur Zapt, who would decide on the necessary action. That was not his concern, for which Nikos thanked God. He knew he wouldn’t be good at it. Fortunately, Owen was returning. And not, Nikos told himself and everyone, before time.
Georgiades had taken up position in the goods part of the Pont Limoun. From where he was standing, at the very edge of the area, just where it gave on to the main station with its bustling passengers, he could see Nassir waiting nervously. From time to time he walked off agitatedly but he always returned to the spot he had chosen.
The goods train from Luxor pulled in. Immediately there was a great banging of doors and cries from the porters. Goods were brought down from the wagons on to the platform and porters began taking them away. Nassir, however, did not move.
He did not move until the bustle had subsided and most of the goods which had been unloaded had been either taken away or stacked on the platform. Then, when everything was quieter, Nassir moved forward.
The wagon before which he had stationed himself had not so far been opened. Now a man came up and began to unlock it. The door was pulled open and the station porters started to unload. They put the loads, heavy wooden boxes, carefully on the platform. Nassir was standing within a yard of them, so close as almost to get in the porter’s way. When they had finished, he counted the boxes. Then he stuck his head into the wagon to make sure that none had been left behind.
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