Alaa al-Aswany - The Automobile Club of Egypt

“So you’re against what Abdoun is planning?” the prince asked.

“Yes,” replied Odette.

“I’ve become the most outspoken of the staff,” said Abdoun, “when it comes to demanding their rights. What’s wrong with that?”

“What we need from the staff,” Odette smiled patronizingly, “is for them to serve as a conduit for intelligence on the king, the court and the government.”

Abdoun looked at her incredulously. “The staff of the Club,” he said with feeling, “need to understand that they are respectable people with rights and not just servants of His Majesty.”

“You’re correct in principle, of course, but that is not our immediate objective.”

“I see no contradiction between our plan and raising the consciousness of my colleagues. Very soon I’ll have most of them on our side.”

“As I’ve already said, that is not our immediate objective.”

“Comrade Odette, I don’t understand you. You are in favor of recruiting the cadres in the factories but oppose the recruitment of anyone from the Automobile Club.”

“Yes, because,” she said without a moment’s hesitation, “those in the factories are workers and not servants. There is a difference. If a worker can be correctly politicized, he becomes a real asset, but a servant’s way of thinking is generally so mangled that he is resistant to any change.”

“What you’ve said doesn’t apply to any of my colleagues at the Club.”

“Even if they were recruitable, the time is not right. You have to carry out our plan for the New Year’s Eve party. That’s only two weeks away and the plan will only work if the Club staff are in their accustomed mode of behavior. It’d be a mistake to push them into a confrontation with Alku.”

“A confrontation with Alku is inevitable.”

At this point Odette became agitated. “Now is not the time,” she retorted. “Going off to see Alku will only result in collective punishment. What you are intending would jeopardize the operation we have been planning for weeks. I’ve already had to intervene with James Wright to stop you getting fired from the Club. I can’t do that again.”

“Then don’t.”

“Why are you being so difficult?” Odette shouted in irritation. “I have made myself clear. Your task at the Club is to gather intelligence. Nothing more. Nothing less. Your proposed scheme will put your colleagues under unbearable pressure, and we will all be exposed.”

“What do you think, sir?” Abdoun asked the prince.

“Odette is right. An escalation in tension could have a deleterious effect on our plan.” The prince said nothing for a few moments and then turned to Odette.

“On the other hand, if Abdoun backs down from having his meeting with Alku, he might lose his colleagues’ confidence forever.”

“So what’s to be done?” she said.

No one said anything as the prince weighed all the various considerations.

“We don’t have any choice,” he said. “Abdoun, go and see Alku, but in my capacity as this working party’s coordinator I would ask you not to take such initiatives again without consulting us.”

Then the prince turned to me and chortled, “The first meeting you attend and you have to sit and watch a quarrel! What will you have to say about us now!”

“Only good things!” I said with a smile.

The prince picked up the thread again, “Differences in opinion are natural and usually help us reach the right decision.”

The prince seemed to be the one who always had the final word, followed by Odette, who had a strong personality and wielded some influence over the others. After approximately an hour, the prince said to me, “Before we bring this meeting to an end, I would like to ask that, at our next meeting, you provide us with a two- or three-page analysis of the political situation. The analysis should reflect your opinion of what is happening and your expectations for the new cabinet. You will read it out to us and we’ll discuss it.”

I nodded my agreement, stood up and shook hands with everyone there. They started leaving.

“Wait a moment,” Hasan Mu’min told me. “I’ll go with you.”

It was around nine o’clock, and although the sun was shining, there was a cold edge to the breeze.

“So what do you think of the working party?” Hasan asked.

“I’m glad to be part of it.”

“In a few days’ time,” he said, “we’re going to undertake an operation that will be the talk of all Egypt.”

“Can you tell me anything about it?”

“Our organizational rules prevent me from giving you any information, unfortunately.”

“I’m a member of the organization, like you are.”

“But you haven’t been involved in the planning of this operation, and thus you are not entitled to know the details.”

My disappointment must have been apparent.

“The prince likes and trusts you,” he said, as if trying to console me. “I’m sure he’ll involve you in one of our upcoming operations.”

We reached the tram stop where we would go our separate ways. Hasan gave me a warm hug and said, “Stay strong, young hero! See you at the next meeting.”

I hailed a taxi and sped off to the Automobile Club. I was about half an hour late for my lesson with Mitsy. I rushed up to the top floor, but she was nowhere to be found. I was sure that she must have gotten angry and left. I felt downcast. It had not been my fault that I was late. Could Mitsy not have waited?

I went off to look for Khalil, the office clerk, and accosted him, “Uncle Khalil. Something came up and I arrived a little late for my lesson, but Mitsy has disappeared.”

“In fact, she never came.”

“I hope nothing has happened to her.”

Khalil said nothing, and then the bell rang, and he scuttled off to Mr. Wright’s office. I sat down and lit a cigarette. It was unlike Mitsy not to turn up for her lesson. I could not be the reason. I had never done anything to offend her. After a while, the door opened, and Khalil reappeared. His voice sounded anxious.

“Mr. Wright wishes to see you.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know. He just told me that he wanted to see you straightaway.”

I followed two steps behind Khalil. Before he knocked on the office door, he leaned over to me and whispered, “He has been in a bad mood all morning. Be careful, Kamel.”

When Mahmud came down from the roof, he felt much better. Fawzy could always dispel his worries and get him to see things differently. As much as he might disagree with Fawzy, he always came round to his opinion. For Mahmud believed that Fawzy knew much more than he did and that he was rarely wrong. So the next day, Mahmud started to carry out Fawzy’s plan to the letter. He went off to visit Rosa and spent a few hours with her, during which he was so rough in bed with her that her shrieks echoed from the bedroom walls. He left her lying there while he took a hot shower. Then he got dressed and sat in the sitting room.

Rosa, having put on her silk dressing gown, came over and joined him there, putting her arms around him and planting little kisses on his forehead, as she asked him in an anxious whisper, “Can you stay the night with me?”

“Sorry, Rosa. I’ve got something I have to finish.”

She hugged him as if trying to squeeze the last few moments of satisfaction from his body before he left.

Mahmud did not respond. He was concentrating on carrying out the plan. Rosa was about to give him a long, deep kiss, but he pushed her away gently, moving away a little and lighting a cigarette. He had a worried look on his face.

“What’s the matter, Mahmud?” Rosa asked him anxiously.

“I’ve got a problem.”