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‘A penny for your thoughts.’ offered my secretary, bringing me back to the real world again.

‘What do you want from me, Penny?’ I demanded irately. ‘Look you can talk all you like about Islam, the Crusades and World War Three. I won’t even be around when it happens in fifty years’ time!’

‘That’s not the point,’ she countered. ‘It’s your duty to do something to save the world in the future. It matters little whether you’re around or not. You need to be on our side.

‘I don’t take sides,’ I retorted sharply. ‘I never take sides! God help the people who worry about the starving millions in Africa and Asia, those who collect money for such charities, those who would give their last pennies to widows and orphans! I tell you straight. This 21st Century Crusaders thing is not for me. Who knows? Maybe oil won’t run out in the Middle East. Maybe Islam will find a way out of their dilemma if it happens. It’s not my business!’

‘It’s money, isn’t it!’ Her lip curled in anger as she faced me directly. ‘Money’s the only thing you’re interested in! The disappointment stemming from my remarks showed in her face.

‘Look,’ I responded, calming down a little. ‘There are three things important to me in life at present. Me, you and playing bridge. Money doesn’t come into it.’

She calmed down at my words and sat sullenly for a moment without speaking. The she sat up in her seat and found her voice. ‘If you feel anything for me you’ll co-operate.’

I shrugged my shoulders at her attempt to blackmail me emotionally. ‘Sure… I’ll co-operate. I said me, you and playing bridge. I wouldn’t let you down. Just don’t expect me to have the same feeling for your cause, that’s all!’

* * *

After touching down at Ben Gurion Airport we passed through immigration and hired a taxi to take us into Tel Aviv. The journey lasted twenty minutes and allowed me to take my first view of a country which for so long had been the battleground to a war of attrition. As we travelled along the well-built road I considered it to be a far cry from the references in the Holy Bible. Although there were still large tracts of desert. I was surprised to note fertile areas and modern concrete establishments among the barren terrain. There were also scattered farmlands on either side of the highway. Many fields were cultivated and occasionally the vehicle passed close to a village sheltered by a hill adorned with cypresses, old pines and casuarina trees. For a while we passed some citrus orchards and then arrived in Tel Aviv itself. The city comprised a mixture of young and old. New buildings and business developments indicated the dynamism to expand. On the other hand, a great deal of care had been taken to ensure that no feature of history, whether biblical or mediaeval was affected or damaged. I noticed that many ancient sites had been preserved clearly in an effort to maintain national heritage.

‘Where to now?’ asked the taxi driver in a New York accent.

‘Arlosoroff Road,’ I informed him.

‘Your first time in Tel Aviv, eh?’ he went on, turning the vehicle in the right direction.

‘Yes… the first time. What’s that great square tower?’ I pointed through the open window of the cab.

The driver didn’t need to follow the direction of my hand. ‘In English it’s known as the Tower of the Forty after the forty followers of Mohammed. It was built in the thirteen hundreds by the Egyptian Mameluke sultans.’

‘But they were Arabs, weren’t they?’ I challenged, puzzled by his reply. ‘How is it that the Jews who are the bitter enemies of the Arabs protect a monument which embodies the spirit of the other religion?’

‘You know very little about us,’ he explained shortly. ‘The Jews and Arabs are both of the Semitic race. Brothers under the skin. We’re the clever ones; they’re the lucky ones.’

‘Why lucky?’ I enquired, intrigued to know the answer.

‘Why lucky?’ he repeated aimlessly. ‘If Moses had turned right instead of left when he led the Children of Israel out of Egypt we would have had the oil as well. But then you can’t have everything in life, can you? We’re passing King Solomon Road. You’ve heard of King Solomon, eh? It’s not far now. We have to turn off here to Arlosoroff Road. Say… while you’re in the cab, do you want a quick tour of the city or a cruise along the sea front? It’s the Mediterranean, you know.’

‘No thank,’ I refused wearily. The travelling and the heat were having an unpleasant effect on me and I could hardly wait to relax and settle with a cold drink in my hand.

We arrived at our destination and Penny paid the taxi driver. The house in Arlosoroff Road was far from satisfactory. The architect had designed it ingeniously using every millimetre of available space, fitting out the accommodation with a tiny kitchen, a small bathroom, and sparse living quarters. I opened the shuttered windows to let in some fresh air and flooded the room with sunlight.

‘I’m going to have a cool drink and then walk around the town,’ I told Penny. ‘My bones ache like hell and my head is throbbing but there’s a lot I need to get out of my system. Walking’s the only way I can do it.’

‘You’ll end up over-tired and you won’t be able to sleep.’ she retorted with an element of concern.

‘Let’s say there’s an itinerant bug running around my bloodstream. It’s going to keep me on the move.’

‘Well I’m bushed,’ she yawned, pulling a lever on the settee so that it unfolded swiftly into a bed. ‘When you go out, close the shutters, will you? The noise of the traffic might keep me awake but at least I won’t have to face the sunshine.’

* * *

I found Tel Aviv fascinating mainly because the city was so young and alive. It had developed at a tremendous pace with the port of Jaffa by its side. I learned later that when the cornerstone was laid in Jaffa, its founders sought to create a quiet residential suburb on the golden sands of the Mediterranean. No one believed it would grow into a city overshadowing the original port. I wandered along the straight streets with their new houses designed in modern architectural vogue. There were numerous museums, theatre companies and night clubs of every description to cater for the public. The place had a unique character of its own.

After walking along the seafront for a while towards Jaffar, I retraced my steps and found my way back to our humble abode. To my surprise, Penny was still awake, sitting up in bed with a magazine in her hand.

‘Couldn’t you sleep? I asked her.

‘I’ve had my sleep,’ she replied. ‘An hour’s enough for me to catch up during the day. You were gone for ages. Find anything interesting?’

‘Nothing much.’

‘By the way, we received a telephone call while you were out. Just as I got my head down the ‘phone rang. A Schmuel Musaphia is staying at the King David Hotel and would like us to join his tomorrow for breakfast.’

I stared at her bleakly. ‘Who’s he? And is he on our side or the other side?’

She shrugged her shoulders aimlessly. ‘The only way to find out is to meet him there tomorrow morning.’

I was getting very tired of the cat-and-mouse game as well as my inability to control the situation. No longer did I make any arrangements myself; they were always suggested to me by others. Either I was instructed to meet someone at a certain place at a particular time or I was invited to meet them at their convenience. I seemed to be a pawn in someone else’s game of chess and I didn’t like it… I didn’t like it at all!