‘All sorts and nationalities, nurse,’ said the squadron-leader cheerfully. ‘An English architect, a French Father from Carthage – he does the inscriptions – tablets and things, you know. And then there’s Miss Johnson. She’s English too – sort of general bottle-washer. And a little plump man who does the photography – he’s an American. And the Mercados. Heaven knows what nationality they are – Dagos of some kind! She’s quite young – a snaky-looking creature – and oh! doesn’t she hate Lovely Louise! And there are a couple of youngsters and that’s the lot. A few odd fish, but nice on the whole – don’t you agree, Pennyman?’
He was appealing to an elderly man who was sitting thoughtfully twirling a pair of pince-nez.
The latter started and looked up.
‘Yes – yes – very nice indeed. Taken individually, that is. Of course, Mercado is rather a queer fish-’
‘He has such a very odd beard,’ put in Mrs Kelsey. ‘A queer limp kind.’
Major Pennyman went on without noticing her interruption.
‘The young ’uns are both nice. The American’s rather silent, and the English boy talks a bit too much. Funny, it’s usually the other way round. Leidner himself is a delightful fellow – so modest and unassuming. Yes, individually they are all pleasant people. But somehow or other, I may have been fanciful, but the last time I went to see them I got a queer impression of something being wrong. I don’t know what it was exactly…Nobody seemed quite natural. There was a queer atmosphere of tension. I can explain best what I mean by saying that they all passed the butter to each other too politely.’
Blushing a little, because I don’t like airing my own opinions too much, I said: ‘If people are too much cooped up together it’s got a way of getting on their nerves. I know that myself from experience in hospital.’
‘That’s true,’ said Major Kelsey, ‘but it’s early in the season, hardly time for that particular irritation to have set in.’
‘An expedition is probably like our life here in miniature,’ said Major Pennyman. ‘It has its cliques and rivalries and jealousies.’
‘It sounds as though they’d got a good many newcomers this year,’ said Major Kelsey.
‘Let me see.’ The squadron-leader counted them off on his fingers. ‘Young Coleman is new, so is Reiter. Emmott was out last year and so were the Mercados. Father Lavigny is a newcomer. He’s come in place of Dr Byrd, who was ill this year and couldn’t come out. Carey, of course, is an old hand. He’s been out ever since the beginning, five years ago. Miss Johnson’s been out nearly as many years as Carey.’
‘I always thought they got on so well together at Tell Yarimjah,’ remarked Major Kelsey. ‘They seemed like a happy family – which is really surprising when one considers what human nature is! I’m sure Nurse Leatheran agrees with me.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I don’t know that you’re not right! The rows I’ve known in hospital and starting often from nothing more than a dispute about a pot of tea.’
‘Yes, one tends to get petty in close communities,’ said Major Pennyman. ‘All the same I feel there must be something more to it in this case. Leidner is such a gentle, unassuming man, with really a remarkable amount of tact. He’s always managed to keep his expedition happy and on good terms with each other. And yet I did notice that feeling of tension the other day.’
Mrs Kelsey laughed.
‘And you don’t see the explanation? Why, it leaps to the eye!’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Mrs Leidner, of course.’
‘Oh come, Mary,’ said her husband, ‘she’s a charming woman – not at all the quarrelsome kind.’
‘I didn’t say she was quarrelsome. She causes quarrels!’
‘In what way? And why should she?’
‘Why? Why? Because she’s bored. She’s not an archaeologist, only the wife of one. She’s bored shut away from any excitements and so she provides her own drama. She amuses herself by setting other people by the ears.’
‘Mary, you don’t know in the least. You’re merely imagining.’
‘Of course I’m imagining! But you’ll find I’m right. Lovely Louise doesn’t look like the Mona Lisa for nothing! She mayn’t mean any harm, but she likes to see what will happen.’
‘She’s devoted to Leidner.’
‘Oh! I dare say, I’m not suggesting vulgar intrigues. But she’s an allumeuse, that woman.’
‘Women are so sweet to each other,’ said Major Kelsey.
‘I know. Cat, cat, cat, that’s what you men say. But we’re usually right about our own sex.’
‘All the same,’ said Major Pennyman thoughtfully, ‘assuming all Mrs Kelsey’s uncharitable surmises to be true, I don’t think it would quite account for that curious sense of tension – rather like the feeling there is before a thunderstorm. I had the impression very strongly that the storm might break any minute.’
‘Now don’t frighten nurse,’ said Mrs Kelsey. ‘She’s going there in three days’ time and you’ll put her right off.’
‘Oh, you won’t frighten me,’ I said, laughing.
All the same I thought a good deal about what had been said. Dr Leidner’s curious use of the word ‘safer’ recurred to me. Was it his wife’s secret fear, unacknowledged or expressed perhaps, that was reacting on the rest of the party? Or was it the actual tension (or perhaps the unknown cause of it) that was reacting on her nerves?
I looked up the word allumeuse that Mrs Kelsey had used in a dictionary, but couldn’t get any sense out of it.
‘Well,’ I thought to myself, ‘I must wait and see.’
Chapter 4. I Arrive in Hassanieh
Three days later I left Baghdad.
I was sorry to leave Mrs Kelsey and the baby, who was a little love and was thriving splendidly, gaining her proper number of ounces every week. Major Kelsey took me to the station and saw me off. I should arrive at Kirkuk the following morning, and there someone was to meet me.
I slept badly, I never sleep very well in a train and I was troubled by dreams. The next morning, however, when I looked out of the window it was a lovely day and I felt interested and curious about the people I was going to see.
As I stood on the platform hesitating and looking about me I saw a young man coming towards me. He had a round pink face, and really, in all my life, I have never seen anyone who seemed so exactly like a young man out of one of Mr P. G. Wodehouse’s books.
‘Hallo, ’allo, ’allo,’ he said. ‘Are you Nurse Leatheran? Well, I mean you must be – I can see that. Ha ha! My name’s Coleman. Dr Leidner sent me along. How are you feeling? Beastly journey and all that? Don’t I know these trains! Well, here we are – had any breakfast? This your kit? I say, awfully modest, aren’t you? Mrs Leidner has four suitcases and a trunk – to say nothing of a hat-box and a patent pillow, and this, that and the other. Am I talking too much? Come along to the old bus.’
There was what I heard called later a station wagon waiting outside. It was a little like a wagonette, a little like a lorry and a little like a car. Mr Coleman helped me in, explaining that I had better sit next to the driver so as to get less jolting.
Jolting! I wonder the whole contraption didn’t fall to pieces! And nothing like a road – just a sort of track all ruts and holes. Glorious East indeed! When I thought of our splendid arterial roads in England it made me quite homesick.
Mr Coleman leaned forward from his seat behind me and yelled in my ear a good deal.
‘Track’s in pretty good condition,’ he shouted just after we had been thrown up in our seats till we nearly touched the roof.
And apparently he was speaking quite seriously.
‘Very good for you – jogs the liver,’ he said. ‘You ought to know that, nurse.’
‘A stimulated liver won’t be much good to me if my head’s split open,’ I observed tartly.
‘You should come along here after it’s rained! The skids are glorious. Most of the time one’s going sideways.’