himself and his hands settled firmly, taking a fresh grip, and Debra
whooped as he changed down to get the revs peaking.
He slid the car through the first bend and David's right foot stabbed
instinctively at a non-existent brake pedal and he felt his breathing
jam in his throat.
When Joe parked them in the lot outside the airport at Barcelona and
switched off the engine, all of them were silent for a few seconds and
then David said softly, Son of a gun!
Then they were all laughing. David felt a tinge of regret that he was
going to have to take the girl away from him, for he was beginning to
like him, despite himself, beginning to enjoy the slow deliberation of
his speech and movements that was so clearly a put on and finding
pleasure in the big slow smile that took so long to reach its full
bloom. David had to harden his resolve.
They were an hour early for the plane they were meeting and they found a
table in the restaurant overlooking the runways. David ordered an
earthenware jug of Sangria, and Debra sat next to Joe and put her hand
on his arm while she chatted, a gesture that tempered David's new-found
liking for him.
A private flight landed as the waiter brought the Sangria, and Joe
looked up.
One of the new executive Gulfstreams. They tell me she is a little
beauty. And he went on to list the aircraft's specifications in
technical language that Debra seemed to follow intelligently.
You know anything about aircraft? David challenged him. Some, admitted
Joe, but Debra took the question.
Joe is in the airforce, she said proudly, and David stared at them.
So is Debs, 'Joe laughed, and David switched his attention to her.
She's a lieutenant in signals. . 'Only the reserve, Debra demurred,
but Joe is a flier.
A fighter pilot. A flier, David repeated stupidly. He should have
known from Joe's clear and steady gaze that was the peculiar mark of the
fighter pilot. He should have known by the way he handled the Mustang
If he was an Israeli flier, then he would have flown a formidable number
of operations. Hell, every time they took off, they were operational.
He felt a vast tide of respect rising within him.
What squadron are you on, Phantoms? Phantoms! Joe curled his lip.
That isn't flying.
That's operating a computer. No, we really fly. You ever heard of a
Mirage? David blinked, and then nodded. Yeah, said David, I've heard
of them. 'Well, I fly a Mirage. David began to laugh, shaking his
head.
What's wrong? Joe demanded, his smile fading. What's funny about that?
I do too, said David. I fly a Mirage. It was no use trying to get hot
against this buck, he decided. I've got over a thousand hours on
Mirages. And it as Joe's turn to stare, then suddenly they were both
talking at once - Debra's head turning quickly from one to the other.
David ordered another jug of Sangria, but Joe would not let him pay. He
repeated for the fiftieth time, Well, that beats all, and punched
David's shoulder. How about that, Debs? Half-way through the second
jug, David interrupted the talk which had been exclusively on aviation.
Who are we meeting, anyway? We've driven across half of Spain and I
don't even know who the guy is. 'This guy is a girl, Joe laughed, and
Debra filled in.
Hannah, and she grinned at Joe, his fiancee. She is a nursing sister at
Hadassah Hospital, and she could only get away for a week. 'Your
fiancee? David whispered.
They are getting married in June. Debra turned to Joe. It's taken him
two years to make up his mind.
Joe chuckled with embarrassment, and Debra squeezed his arm.
Your fiancee? asked David again.
Why do you keep saying that? Debra demanded.
David pointed at Joe, and then at Debra.
What, he started, I mean, who, what the hell? Debra realized suddenly
and gasped. She covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes sparkling.
You mean - you thought -? Oh, no, she giggled. She pointed at Joe and
then at herself. Is that what you thought? David nodded.
He is my brother, Debra hooted. Joe is my brother, you idiot! Joseph
Israel Mordecai and Debra Ruth Mordecai, brother and sister Hannah was a
rangy girl with bright copper hair and freckles like gold sovereigns.
She was only an inch or two shorter than Joe but he lifted her as she
came through the customs gate, swung her off her feet and then engulfed
her in an enormous embrace.
It seemed completely natural that the four of them should stay together.
By a miracle of packing they got all their luggage and themselves into
the Mustang with Hannah perched on Joe's lap in the rear.
We've got a week, said Debra. A whole week! What are we going to do
with it?
They agreed that Torremolinos was out. It was far south, and since
Michener had written The Drifters, it had become a hangout for all the
bums and freaks.
I was talking to someone on the plane. There is a place called Colera
up the coast. Near the border. They reached it in the middle of the
next morning and it was still so early in the season that they had no
trouble finding pleasant rooms at a small hotel off the winding main
street. The girls shared, but David insisted on a room of his own. He
had certain plans for Debra that made privacy desirable.
Debra's bikini was blue and brief, hardly sufficient to restrain a bosom
that was more exuberant than David had guessed. Her skin was satiny and
tanned to a deep mahogany, although a strip of startling white peeped
over the back of her costume when she stooped to pick up her towel. She
was long in the waist, and leg, and a strong swimmer, pacing David
steadily through the cool blue water when they set out for a rocky islet
half a mile off shore.
They had the tiny island to themselves and they found a pitch of flat
smooth rock out of the wind and full in the sun. They lay side by side
with their fingers entwined and the salt water had sleeked Debra's hair
to her shoulders, like the coat of an otter.
They lay in the sun and they talked away the afternoon. There was so
much they had to learn about each other.
Her father had been one of the youngest colonels in the American
Airforce during World War II, but afterwards he had gone on to Israel.
He had been there ever since, and was now a Major-General. They lived
in a house in an old part of Jerusalem which was five hundred years old,
but was a lot of fun.
She was a senior lecturer in English at the Hebrew University in
Jerusalem and, this shyly as though. it were a rather special secret,
she wanted to write. A small volume of her poetry had already been
published.
That impressed David, and he came up on one elbow and looked at her with
new respect, and a twinge of envy, for someone who saw the way ahead
clearly.
She lay with her eyes closed against the sun, and droplets of water
sparkling like gems on her thick dark eyelashes. She wasn't beautiful,
he decided carefully, but very handsome and very, very sexy. He was
going to have her, of course. There was no doubt in David's mind about
this, but there seemed little urgency in it now. He was enjoying
listening to her talk, she had a quaint way of expressing herself, once
she was in full flight, and her accent was strangely neutral, although
there were faint echoes of her American background now he knew to look