twice after the outrage. However, the atmosphere had been stiff and
artificial, everybody carefully avoiding mention of Debra's name. He
had not come again after the second time, nearly six months ago.
Evasive tactics at this stage will be the same as for
"Sam III".
Prayer and good luck! someone interjected and that raised a laugh.
maximum-rate turn towards the missile, to screen the radiation from your
jet blasts, and attempt to force the "Serpent" to overshoot. In the
event that the missile continues to track, you should climb into the sun
and then make another maximum-rate turn. The missile may then accept
the sun's infra-red radiation as a more tempting target And if that
doesn't work? a voice called, and another answered flippantly, Repeat
the following: "Hear Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. " But
this time nobody laughed at the old blasphemy.
The Brig timed his departure from the briefing-room to fall in beside
David.
When are we going to see you, David? It's been a long time. 'I'm
sorry, sir. I hope Joe made my apologies Yes, of course. But why don't
you come with Joe this evening? God knows, there will be enough food
I'll be very busy tonight, sir, David declined lamely.
I understand. And as they reached the door of the O.C.'Is office the
Brig paused, Remember you are always welcome, and he turned away.
Sir! the Brig stopped and looked back at him. David spoke rapidly,
almost guiltily.
How is she, sir? and then again, how is Debra? Have you see her, I
mean, recently? She is well, the Brig answered heavily.
As well as she can be. 'Will you tell her I asked?
No, answered the Brig, ignoring the pleading in the dark blue eyes. No.
You know I can't do that David nodded and turned away. For a moment the
Brig looked after him and then with a frown he went on into the
colonel's office.
David dropped Joe in Em Karem, at the entrance to the lane, and then he
drove on into the main shopping area of East Jerusalem and parked
outside the big new supermarket in Melech George ! to do his shopping
for the weekend ahead.
He was hanging over the freezer tray pondering the delicate choice
between lamb cutlets and steak, when he became aware that he was being
watched.
David looked up quickly and saw that she was a statuesque woman with a
thick mane of blond curls. She stood beside the shelves farther down
the aisle. Her hair was dyed, he could see the dark shadow of the
roots, and she was older than he was, with a womanly heaviness in her
hips and bosom and tiny lines at the corners of her eyes. She was
eyeing him, a steady appraisal so unashamedly sensual that he felt the
check in his breathing and the quick stirring of his loins. He looked
back at the meat in the freezer, guilty and angry with the treachery of
his body. It had been so long, so very long since he had experienced
sexual awareness. He had believed that he never would again. He wanted
to throw the pack of steak back into the freezer and leave, but he stood
rooted with the breathless feeling squeezing his lungs, and he was aware
of the woman's presence at his side. He could feel the warmth of her on
his arm, and smell her, the flowery perfume mingled with the natural
musky odour of the sexually aroused female.
The steak is very good, she said. She had a light sweet voice and he
recognized the same breathless quality as his own. He looked at her.
Her eyes were green, and her teeth were a little crooked but white. She
was even older than he had thought, almost forty. She wore her dress
low in front, he could see the crepe effect of the skin between her
breasts. The breasts were big and motherly, and suddenly David wanted
to lay his head against them. They looked so soft and warm and safe.
You should cook it rare, with mushrooms and garlic and red wine, she
said. It's very good that way. 'Is it? he asked hoarsely.
Yes, she nodded, smiling. Who will cook it for you?
Your wife? Your mother? No, said David. I will cook it myself. I
live alone, and she leaned a little closer to him, her breast touching
his arm.
David was dizzy and hot with the brandy. He had bought a bottle of it
at the supermarket, and he had drunk it mixed with ginger ale to mask
the spiritous taste. He had drunk it fast, and now he leaned over the
basin in the bathroom and felt the house rock and sway about him. He
steadied himself, gripping the edge of the basin.
He splashed cold water on to his face and shook off the drops, then he
grinned stupidly at himself in the mirror above the basin. His hair was
damp and hung on to his forehead; he closed one eye and the wavering
image in the mirror hardened and squinted back at him.
Hi there, boy, he muttered and reached for the towel.
He had dripped water down his tunic and this annoyed him. He threw the
towel over the toilet seat and went back into the living-room.
The woman was gone. The leather couch still carried the indentation of
her backside, and the dirty plates were on the olive-wood table. The
air was thick with cigarette smoke and her perfume.
Where are you? he called thickly, swaying slightly in the doorway.
Here, big boy. He went to the bedroom. She lay on the bed, naked,
plump and white with huge soft breasts and swelling belly. He stared at
her.
Come on, Davey. Her clothing was thrown across the dressing-table, and
he saw that her corsets were grey and unwashed. Her hair was yellow
against the soft ivory lacework.
Come to Mama, she whispered hoarsely, opening her limbs languidly in
invitation. She was spread upon the brass bed, upon the lace cover
which had been Debra's and David felt his anger surge within him. Get
up, he said, slurring his words. Come on, baby. Get off that bed, his
voice tightened and she heard the tone and sat up with mild alarm. What
is it, Davey? Get out of here, his voice was rising sharply. Get out,
you bitch. Get out of here! He was shaking now, his face pale and his
eyes savage blue.
Quivering with panic, she climbed hurriedly from the bed, the great
white breasts and buttocks wobbling with ridiculous haste as she stuffed
them into the grey corset.
When she had gone, David went through into the bathroom and vomited into
the toilet bowl. Then he cleaned the house, scouring pans and plates,
polishing the glasses until they shone, emptying the ashtrays, opening
the shutters to blow out the stench of cigarette and perfume, and
finally, going through into the bedroom, he stripped and remade the bed
with fresh sheets and smoothed the lace cover carefully until not a
crease or wrinkle showed.
He put on a clean tunic and his uniform cap, and drove to the Jaffa
gate. He parked the car in the lot outside the gate and walked through
the old city to the reconstructed Sephardic synagogue in the Jewish
quarter.
It was very quiet and peaceful in the high-domed hall and he sat a long
time on the hard wooden bench.
Joe sat opposite David with a worried expression creasing his deep
forehead as he studied the board. Three or four of the other pilots had
hiked their chairs up and were concentrating on the game also. These
chessboard conflicts between David and Joe were usually epics and
attracted a partisan audience.
David had been stalking Joe's rook for half a dozen moves and now he had
it trapped. Two more moves would shatter the kingsize defence, and the