by Ciaran Nagle
‘They were just boys, not men. Not my type at all.’ answered Nancy with a shrug of her shoulders. She pointed to the phone.
‘Just handing you over,’ called Mel gaily into the receiver as she passed over the phone and handset across the aisle.
Nancy took the receiver.
‘Hello, Nancy here, how can I help?’
‘Nancy it’s Martin from yesterday. I came in with Pete and Andy. About the Israel trip?’
‘Yes Martin, I recognise your voice.' Brawny. 'Do you want to go ahead and confirm the Israel booking?’
‘Nancy, I can’t. I’m afraid we’re going to have to call the whole trip off. Andy's cousin Dan was going to come with us to make up the numbers. He's not an archaeologist, you see. But he's renewed his contract with his employer and won't be available. Without him the three of us can’t afford to go ahead with the trip. And we can’t find anyone else to fill the gap at such short notice. I’m really sorry to have wasted your time.’
Nancy looked down at the booking form where she had listed flights, hotels, taxis, buses and all arrival and departure times. She cradled the phone in her neck and began to slowly screw up the form.
‘Don’t worry Martin, it can’t be helped. Best laid plans of mice and men, eh?’
‘Yeah, too right,’ said Martin who sounded genuinely depressed.
Nancy put down the phone and turned to Mel who had been listening.
‘Well, we won’t be seeing them again Mel. But I’ll give you their phone numbers if you want to get in touch,’ she laughed. 'You can put some toast on the grill and start counting down to New Year.' They both giggled.
Nancy turned back to the papers on her desk. ‘Just not fair,’ she said to herself in an undertone. 'Not fair.'
Her own phone rang. She looked at it as it rang a second time. It rang a third time. 'Answer it, Nance,' called Mel, looking at her quizzically.
As it rang for the fourth time, Nancy picked up the receiver. 'Ealing Holidays. How can I help you?'
'Hello Nancy.' Tinge of an Irish brogue. Female.
'Oh.' Nancy looked round the office, seeing who was watching. 'Aunt Mary.' She turned towards the wall and bent her neck down low. 'I'm a bit busy right now, Auntie. Can you call me back in my lunch hour…'
'It won't take long, Nancy,' came the husky, phlegm-laden voice.
'Auntie, have you been smoking again? You know the doctor said…'
'I need to talk to you Nancy. It's important.' There was a pause.
'Okay,' said Nancy in a whisper. 'Go on. I've got a few minutes.'
'I had a phone call yesterday. From someone in the family. Your family, that is, Nancy. Your side of the family.'
'Oh, you mean…'
'Yes. That side. But someone I'd barely heard of before. I don't even know how he got my number. But there. It's strange how people pop out of cupboards when you least expect them.'
'So…who was it?'
'His name is Shai. I suppose he'd be your Great Uncle. Yes, that's right. Your mother's uncle. After they died, that is. After your mum and dad died, I rather lost contact with everyone.'
'Except me, Aunt Mary. I was there. With you.'
'Yes, of course you were. Well, you had to be. There was no-one else to look after you.' There was another pause and Nancy heard her aunt try to smother a long phlegmy cough.
'Anyway, darling. How are you by the way? Are you all right?'
'Yes, Aunt Mary. I'm fine. Look can we catch up later, I'm rather…'
'Sorry, Nancy. Let me get back to the point. We can do pleasantries another time. You're right. Anyway, I had this call. And it seemed quite urgent. It was your Great Uncle Shai.'
'Who you didn't know about before?'
'No, darling. Lots of mystery in your family. Clear as a glass of stout they were. To outsiders. Like me, who only married one of them. Are, I should say. Not all boxed up yet. And this call only compounded it.'
Nancy looked surreptitiously around the office again.
'Go on, Aunt Mary. I'm sure you'll get to the point any day now.'
'Enough of that sarcasm, young lady. I always told you to mind your manners. Seems I failed there too.'
Nancy looked up at the ceiling and gripped the phone tighter.
'Anyway, your great-uncle Shai, who hasn't bothered with us all his life, is suddenly very keen to meet you. Desperate in fact. He said it was very urgent. I think he's worried he might die first. He rambled a bit I have to say. But he has something very important to tell you.'
'What is it? What does he want to tell me?'
'I've no idea. He wouldn't say.'
'So what shall we do? Ignore him? Or shall I speak to him? There's a phone in the hall where I live. I'm allowed to take calls in the evenings between 9.00 and 10.00.'
'He insisted that he meets you. In person.'
'Okay. Well, I can meet him in a pub.'
'That won't be possible.'
'Why?'
'He's very sick. Can't walk far. He wants you to go to his home.'
'And where's that.'
'In Israel. In a kibbutz. Just near Jerusalem. He wants to meet you there.'
Nancy walked down the Broadway, past the Peking Duck restaurant and Levin's jewellery shop. Outside the bakery a beggar sat with his legs crossed and a plastic bowl in his lap. A mongrel with a piece of string around its neck sat beside him. Nancy skirted around the beggar and entered the shop. The queue was short today and she placed her order within a couple of minutes. She watched while the woman sliced the ham and placed it on the bread like a mosaic.
As she left the bakery she approached the beggar. He was wishing a good day to everyone who walked past.
'Excuse me, could you help me?' asked Nancy quietly.
The beggar looked up, squinting. 'Yes, miss. Would you like me to take you to dinner?'
Nancy smiled. 'I've bought a sandwich for my colleague. Only it's got mustard on it and she doesn't like mustard. Would you like it? Only it would save me having to take it back.'
The beggar smiled appreciatively. 'It's lucky I was here. Isn't it? Otherwise you'd be in a spot of pickle.' Slight accent.
He took the brown bag she handed him. 'Thank you,' he winked, knowingly. 'Have a great day now, miss.'
Nancy hovered. The beggar was grey-haired, but neat. Respectable, almost.
'How did it happen?' she asked.
'You mean how I come here? On the street?'
'Yes.'
The beggar sighed as if experiencing pain.
'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I'll go.' But before Nancy could walk away the beggar stopped her.
'No. No matter. I tell you.' He pushed himself to his feet, holding the sandwich bag in his left hand, too polite to open it while talking.
'Tadeusz,' he introduced himself, bowing slightly. 'Tadeusz Jacek. Third Carpathian Division. Conquerors of Monte Cassino. Only we Poles were stupid enough to keep going. We lost so many. We won. But we lost. Then after the war, we came here. I had a job. But then I lost heart. I became…
'Depressed?'
'Yes. That is it. Depression, they say it. And I had no-one. No-one to care for me. And I cannot go home. To my village. All contact lost. No way back for me now. I miss Poland. My family. Now my home is here. The street. Many English people very kind.'
Nancy fished in her handbag. 'No, no need,' urged Tadeusz, trying to stop her. But Nancy found a £1 note and pressed it into his hand.
'Thank you,' she said, her eyes rapidly moistening. She stared into his face for a long moment and then turned and walked briskly away.
As she departed through the crowds, Tadeusz followed her with his eyes. For a moment he thought he saw a dark figure wearing a curved blade at its side walking behind her. Very close behind her. He blinked and wiped his eye. The figure was gone. That damn war, he said to himself. It spared my body but not my mind. I'm seeing things that don't exist.
He looked down at the sandwich bag between his hands. Then he sat
down on the pavement again and began to open it carefully.
'So tell me, Nance,' said Mel, when Nancy had returned. 'How is your boyfriend situation?' It was still lunchtime and Mel was in gossipy mood.
'What do you mean?' Nancy took another bite of sandwich and dabbed the corner of her mouth with a paper serviette.
'You know what I mean. Have you got a boyfriend or not?'
Nancy smiled. 'Not really. No-one special anyway.'
'How come? You're not that bad looking. On a good day.'
'Oh thanks.' Nancy took a drink of coke. 'Anyway, I've had boyfriends. There's just no-one about at the moment.'
'So come on then, what's your type? What kind of guy do you like bringing you breakfast in bed?' Mel was turned sideways towards Nancy with her elbow on her desk and a hand cupped around her cheek.
'Oh, just the usual, I suppose. Someone nice. Someone I can rely on.'
'That doesn't sound very romantic.'
'Oh, I don't know. I think reliable is romantic.'
'Reliable is boring. Reliable is, well..next thing you've got a family. Two point four kids and a mortgage.'
A faraway look came into Nancy's eyes. 'I didn't have much of a family you see. If I could, I'd have a family first. Mum and dad and brothers and so on. Love to have a brother. And then a boyfriend. In that order.'
She wiped her hands and rolled her serviette in a ball.
'Brothers aren't that special,' said Mel, determined to be helpful. 'I've got a brother. You can have him. He's rubbish.'
'Oh thanks a lot.' And Nancy threw her serviette at Mel who ducked and laughed and flicked her legs under the table.
The shop door opened. It was two of Mel's customers and she rose to greet them.
Nancy returned to her thoughts. A holiday brochure in the rack on the wall caught her attention. Israel. As she stared at it her face became serious again. She thought of Tadeusz Jacek who had lost contact with his family in Poland. She reached for the phone. The booking form on the desk in front of her surrendered Martin's details and she dialled his home number. Beside her, Mel was reaching for brochures of Greek villas while talking to her customers about island-hopping.
A woman’s voice answered.
‘Hello, can I speak to Martin, please. It’s Nancy from the travel agents in Ealing,’ Nancy announced.
‘Martin,’ shouted the woman at the top of her voice in the commanding way that only a mother would summon a teenager. 'Phone'.
Nancy heard the thunderous footfall of a heavy person coming slowly down the stairs.
‘Hi, Martin here.' Flat monotone.
‘Martin, it’s Nancy. From Ealing Travel? It's about your holiday that you were hoping to book. I was just thinking about your call and reflecting that it was such a shame that Dan can't go with you.’
‘Yes, what a bore,’ said Martin sounding fed up. ‘Some people never stop to think of others.’
‘Look,’ said Nancy, ‘I’ve had an idea which would save your field study trip. Fact is, I’ve found someone who would like to come with you as your fourth member. It’s a female. A girl, that is. I mean a woman. She’d pay her way but keep out of your way, if you know what I mean.’
Nancy's eyes were shining brightly. ‘What do you think? Or shall I just tell her that it’s not possible?'
‘No, no, don’t do that,’ blurted Martin. ‘Who is this mystery lady, where has she popped out from?’ he asked.
‘Well, actually,’ said Nancy who was gripping the phone so tight she could almost feel Martin's thoughts down the phone, ‘it’s me. You see I haven’t had a holiday in ages and I’ve always wanted to know more about the ancient Egyptians.’
‘Er..it's actually Roman and Greek settlements we're looking for.'
‘Yeah, that's right, I was just testing you. No I know that. Well OK, I didn't. But you see that's the point. I love all those camels and temples and things. Only I didn't pay attention at school. And it would just all fit quite well 'cause... But you probably wouldn’t want me along. It’s silly to even…’
‘No, it’s not silly at all,’ blurted Martin for the second time. His mind was now racing.
‘No, it could be good,’ he continued. ‘Look, if you’re sure you’re up for this, why not let me talk to the others and see if they’re OK about it too. I certainly am. It could be a laugh and it would save our studies from going to the wall.’
Nancy put down the phone. She put her head in her hands, already suffering remorse.
'Stupid,' she said out loud to herself.
The phone rang ten minutes later.
It was Martin.
The other two boys had eagerly agreed to Nancy’s proposition.
It was on.
Nancy cradled the phone and stared intently out of the window for several seconds. Then she rose and walked slowly and purposefully back down the aisle of the shop and stood by David's desk. She put her hands behind her back. A schoolgirl seeking audience with the head teacher.
'I need to take some leave,' she announced.
David turned and stared at her incredulously. 'You've only just joined us. You haven't earned any leave.'
Other agents were turning around to listen. David waved them back to their work.
'I know.'
They continued staring at each other. David wore an anxious look. Nancy was relaxed.
'How long?'
'Two weeks,' replied Nancy evenly.
'You can take unpaid leave.' David turned away.
'No.'
He looked back at her. Fear was across his face now. His hand brushed his top pocket where he still held the business card she'd written on. He looked around the office. For help, Nancy thought.
'What is it for?'
'An elderly relative of mine needs to see me.'
David's arms were flapping around his desk like kites in the wind. Nancy was holding him with her eyes, pinning him with her unblinking stare.
She decided to help him out. 'It's urgent.'
He sucked in his breath between his teeth and looked around him as if he'd been pushed to the edge. 'Well, all right then. If it's really life and death.' He raised his voice so all could hear. 'But after that, no more holidays till next year.'
'Thank you,' said Nancy quietly. Then more audibly, 'Do you want a cup of tea?'
Pentacurse Region, Inferno - one mile from Husk Tower, three levels underground.
Captain Kodrob cast his cards down on the table and stood up abruptly. A trip-alarm had sounded in the wall of the squadroom warning him that someone was approaching. His intelligent eyes looked towards the door while his brain tried to assess the threat.
The six satyr soldiers playing with him, members of the Marauders battalion, put their hands to their weapons. Just in case.
'It's probably just a dumb troll,' said Lafarge the French demon.
'Or someone trying to steal our liquor,' said Holzman the German.
Kodrob needed quiet. 'Shut up all of you, or I'll send you where the lights are bright.'
He walked to the doorway and looked down the corridor.
'It's Bezejel,' he hissed. 'She's early. Quick, get this place in order. Put those cards away. And take that cover off the face!'
Chairs were pushed back and clattered to the ground. Liquor tankards were hurriedly put away. An infantryman sprang to the wall and pulled away a leather skin which had been draped over two hooks. The eyes of the Leader, etched in charcoal on the ochre walls, again looked out.
Footsteps approached the door at a clip. Light footsteps, not boots. Clack, clack, clack. The Marauders gave each other one final nervous look and snapped to attention. Bezejel swept into the room followed by her two grim-looking satyr bodyguards, Gog and Magog. The hem of her red dress swished as she turned around and surveyed the anxious soldiers.
Only Kodrob had the courage to look at her directly. She was a high-caste siren demoness and was both beautiful and terrible in equal measure. The fear used by the Leader to control his s
ubordinates was taken up in turn by all commanders to control their own underlings. Bezejel was adept at intimidation.
'Ma'am, Captain Kodrob and his squad at your service. We weren't expecting you till later. How may we help you?' Kodrob kept his speech and tone even.
'So, you're Kodrob,' said Bezejel through her perfect teeth and blood-red lips. 'They tell me you're less of a maggot than most of your breed.' From Bezejel, this amounted almost to praise. Kodrob maintained his composure, looking her in the eyes.
'I have a mission to accomplish on the direct order of the Leader,' she announced, surveying his face for any sign of weakness. 'This is to be my base for some time to come. You will report directly to me and make sure I have all that I need. You will not rest until we are finished and our victory is accomplished. Now, you will provide me with some quarters nearby. You will furnish them appropriately for my rank and ensure I have all listening and communication equipment for the earthly rock. We have hearts to break and souls to take.'
'Yes ma'am, thank you ma'am.' Kodrob liked a boss who knew what she wanted.
Bezejel walked around the squad room, looking closely at the faces of the other Marauders. Some of them were twice her size. But it was they who trembled.
She continued her conversation while still inspecting the room. 'Well, aren't you going to ask me something Kodrob, or are you about to drop in my estimation of you?' She was back at his side, looking up at him.
'Ma'am, may it be permitted to know something of the nature of your mission?' He braced, wondering if this was the right question.
'And why do you need to know more about my mission?' Bezejel's voice had dropped to a whisper.
'Because ma'am, I and my team can serve you better if we have a greater understanding of your destructive purpose.'
Bezejel moved back slightly.
'Destructive purpose? What does a captain like you know about destructive purpose?' There was a mixture of respect and curiosity in Bezejel's eyes.
'I listen and learn, ma'am. I know it's the phrase used to denote projects of special interest to our Leader.'
