softly.
A big red-face tourist looked down from the wall and supposing that the
motor covered his voice, nudged his wife.
Get a look at those two, Mavis. Beauty and the beast, isn't it? 'Cork
it, Bert. They might understand.
Go on, luv! They only talk Yiddish or whatever. Debra felt David's arm
go rigid under her hand, felt him begin to pull away, sensing his
outrage and anger but she gripped his forearm tightly and restrained
him. Let's go, Davey, darling. Leave them, please. Even when they
were alone in the safety of the cottage, David was silent and she could
feel the tension in his body and the air was charged with it.
They ate the evening meal of bread and cheese and fish and figs in the
same strained silence. Debra could think of nothing to say to distract
him for the careless words had wounded her as deeply. Afterwards she
lay unsleeping beside him. He lay on his back, not touching her, with
his arms at his sides and his fists clenched.
When at last she could bear it no longer, she turned to him and stroked
his face, still not knowing what to say.
it was David who broke the silence at last.
I want to go away from people. We don't need people do we? 'No, she
whispered. We don't need them. There is a place called Jabulani. It
is deep in the African bushveld, far from the nearest town. My father
bought it as a hunting lodge thirty years ago, and now it belongs to me.
Tell me about it, Debra laid her head-on his chest, and he began
stroking her hair, relaxing as he talked.
There is a wide plain on which grow open forests of mopani and
mohobahoba, with some fat old baobabs and a few ivory palms. In the
open glades the grass is yellow gold and the fronds of the ilala palms
look like beggars fingers. At the end of the plain is a line of hills,
they turn blue at a distance and the peaks are shaped like the turrets
of a fairy castle with tumbled blocks of granite. Between the hills
rises a spring of water, a strong spring that has never dried and the
water is very clear and sweet," "What does Jabulani mean? Debra asked
when he had described it to her.
It means the "place of rejoicing", David told her. I want to go there
with you, she said.
What about Israel? he asked. Will you not miss it?
No, she shook her head. You see, I will take it with me, in my heart.
Ella went up to Jerusalem with them, filling the back seat of the
Mercedes. She would help Debra select the furniture they would take
with them from the house and have it crated and shipped. The rest of it
she would sell for them. Aaron Cohen would negotiate the sale of the
house, and both David and Debra felt a chill of sadness at the thought
of other people living in their home.
David left the women to it and he drove out to Em Karem and parked the
Mercedes beside the iron gate in the garden wall.
The Brig was waiting for him in that bleak and forbidding room above the
courtyard. When David greeted him from the doorway he looked up coldly,
and there was no relaxation of the iron features, no warmth or pity in
the fierce warrior eyes.
You come to me with the blood of my son on your hands, he said, and
David froze at the words and held his gaze. After a few moments the
Brig indicated the tall-backed chair against the far wall, and David
crossed stiffly to it and sat down.
If you had suffered less, I would have made you answer for more, said
the Brig. But vengeance and hatred are barren things, as you have
discovered. David dropped his eyes to the floor.
I will not pursue them further, despite the dictates of my heart, for
that is what I am condemning in you.
You are a violent young man, and violence is the pleasure of fools and
only the last resort of wise men.
The only excuse for it is to protect what is rightfully yours, any other
display of violence is abuse. You abused the power I gave you, and in
doing it you killed my son, and brought my country to the verge of war.
The Brig stood up from his desk, and he crossed to the window and looked
down into the garden. They were both silent while he stroked his
mustache and remembered his son.
At last the Brig sighed heavily and turned back into the room. Why do
you come to me? he asked.
I wish to marry your daughter, sir.
You are asking me, or telling me? the Brig demanded, and then without
waiting for an answer returned to his desk and sat down. If you abuse
this also, if you bring her pain or unhappiness, I will seek you out.
Depend upon it. David stood up and settled the cloth cap over his gross
head, pulling the brim well down.
We would like you to be at the wedding. Debra asked that particularly,
for you and her mother. The Brig nodded. You may tell her that we will
be there.
The synagogue at Jerusalem University is a gleaming white structure,
shaped like the tent of a desert wanderer, with the same billowing
lines.
The red-bud trees were in full bloom and the wedding party was larger
than they had planned, for apart from the immediate family there were
Debra's colleagues from the university, Robert and some of the other
boys from the squadron, Ella Kadesh, Doctor Edelman the baby-faced eye
surgeon who had worked on Debra, Aaron Cohen and a dozen others.
After the simple ceremony, they walked through the university grounds to
one of the reception rooms that David had hired. It was a quiet
gathering with little laughter or joking. The Young Pilots from David's
old squadron had to leave early to return to base, and with them went
any pretence of jollity.
Debra's mother was still not yet fully recovered, and the prospect of
Debra's departure reduced her to quiet grey weeping. Debra tried
without success to comfort her.
Before he left, Dr. Edelman drew David aside.
Watch for any sign of atrophy in her eyes, any cloudiness, excessive
redness, any complaints of pain, headaches! will watch for it.
Any indications, no matter how trivial, if you have any doubts, you must
write to me. 'Thank you, doctor.
They shook hands. Good luck in your new life, said Edelman.
Through it all Debra showed iron control, but even she at last succumbed
and she, her mother, and Ella Kadesh all broke down simultaneously at
the departure barrier of Lad Airport and hung around each other's necks,
weeping bitterly.
The Brig and David stood by, stiff and awkward, trying to look as though
they were not associated with the weeping trio, until the first warning
broadcast gave them an excuse for a brief handshake and David took
Debra's arm and drew her gently away.
They climbed the boarding ladder into the waiting Boeing without looking
back. The giant aircraft took off and turned away southwards, and as
always the sensation of flight soothed David; all the cares and tensions
of these last few days left on the earth behind and below, he felt a new
lightness of the spirit, excitement for what lay ahead.
He reached across and squeezed Debra's arm.
Hello there, Morgan, he said, and she turned towards him and smiled
happily, blindly.
It was necessary to spend some time in Cape Town before they could
escape to the sanctuary of Jabulani in the north.
David took a suite at the Mount Nelson Hotel, and from there he was able
to settle the numerous issues that had piled up in his absence.
The accountants who managed his trust funds demanded ten days of his
time and they spent it in the sitting-room of the suite, poring over