The Women of the Souk

by Michael Pearce

  But the boy – he kept coming back to the boy. Why could he not see what was to be done? What he ought to be doing? Instead of puffing into his nay!

  What had he done to deserve a boy like that? A boy who stood aside when Egypt needed him?

  ELEVEN

  The fan wasn’t working this morning in the seniors’ room and tempers were growing short.

  ‘Why does it always have to be English history?’

  ‘It doesn’t. This morning we are doing the Crusades,’ said the Headmistress, who happened to be taking the lesson that morning.

  ‘All Richard the Lionheart and that sort of stuff?’

  ‘Not this morning,’ said the Headmistress unruffled. ‘He’s in prison.’

  ‘Best place for him!’

  ‘How long does he have to stay there?’

  ‘Years and years,’ said Layla. ‘Until his ground-down subjects have got enough money together to pay the ransom for him.’

  ‘Ransom?’

  There was an awkward silence. Everyone thought of Marie. Officially there had been no talk of a ransom. Unofficially, in the school, there had been talk of little else.

  ‘At least he got out,’ said one of the girls quietly.

  ‘How? By paying the ransom?’

  ‘Yes, but before they could do that,’ said Layla, ‘they had to find out where he was. All they knew was that he was locked up in a castle somewhere. But he had a faithful minstrel who went round all the castles playing his favourite songs outside. Until one day he heard someone inside joining in. And he knew it was Richard.’

  ‘I’ll bet!’

  ‘It’s just a story, of course,’ said the Headmistress. ‘But it’s a nice one.’

  Over in the corner of the classroom there was a sudden commotion and several of the girls stood up.

  ‘What is it now?’

  ‘A scorpion.’

  ‘A scorpion? Surely not!’

  ‘It’s just a baby one. It must have been in one of the deliveries for the stores.’

  ‘Can someone get rid of it? Khabradji, you’re nearest.’

  ‘I hate scorpions!’

  ‘It’s just a baby. It won’t hurt you.’

  ‘Oh yes it will! Our cook got stung last week. She put her hand into some onions she’d just bought in the souk—’

  ‘Well, that was daft, wasn’t it?’

  ‘—and there was a scorpion in them, a little one, just a baby, like ours, and she got stung on her finger, and it was so painful that she screamed, you could hear the screams all through the house, and she put her finger in boiling water—’

  ‘What did she do that for?’

  ‘—and didn’t feel a thing!’

  ‘Oh, come on, Khabradji!’

  ‘That is what she said! And we could hear the screams all through the house.’

  ‘All right, all right, Khabradji, spare us the dramatics.’

  ‘So, I’m not going to touch it, that’s all!’

  ‘No one’s asking you to touch it. Slip a sheet of paper under it, open the window and throw it out!’

  ‘The window’s stuck!’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! Just give it a shake. Melusine, you do it.’

  ‘It really is stuck!’

  ‘Harder! That’s it!’

  ‘It’s coming! It’s all right now!’

  ‘Throw it out! There it goes! I hope you break your back, you little bastard!’

  ‘Melusine!’

  ‘Shut the window or it will fly back in!’

  ‘They don’t fly. They crawl. Watch your feet, everybody!’

  More pandemonium.

  ‘All right, all right! That will do. Back to your places everybody! Now, where were we?’

  ‘In the Bloody Tower, I think, with Richard,’ said Layla.

  ‘Why is the tower bloody?’ asked someone hopefully.

  ‘Sit down, everybody! Sit down!’

  ‘Well, old friend,’ said the shopkeeper in the Scentmakers’ Bazaar, ‘it’s good to see you. Come back for more?’

  ‘My wife’s afraid she will run out,’ said the apparently slow Greek.

  ‘No chance of that, I would have thought. Still, I’ll put some extra ones in this time.’

  ‘Thank you. She does seem to be getting through them rather quickly. “They’ve all got to be paid for,” I told her.’

  ‘Ah, but a little order like this won’t break the bank,’ said the Scentmaker. ‘By the way, did you deliver that other package for me?’

  ‘To Mr Shawquat? I did, and he was very grateful.’

  ‘And so am I, my friend!’

  ‘It was nothing,’ said the slow Greek modestly, ‘Glad to help.’

  ‘I had a man who would deliver for me. But he got killed.’

  ‘Killed?’

  ‘Yes. Stabbed. Poor Hamid!’

  ‘Yes, I think I’ve heard about him. A man at the Kewfik stables, wasn’t it?’

  ‘That’s right. Poor Hamid! Stabbed. In the street!’

  ‘Got into a quarrel, did he?’

  ‘Yes, and then got stabbed. For no reason at all! He used to deliver for me. I shall miss him. Of course, that’s not the important thing. What matters is the family he leaves behind him.’

  ‘Children, were there?’

  ‘Seven. A lot for a woman to manage on her own.’

  ‘The stables will help, won’t they? Didn’t you say he worked at the Kewfik stables?’

  ‘He did. And they will look after her for a bit. But only a bit. You can’t expect them to do it for ever.’

  ‘The Kewfiks are quite generous in that way, I’ve heard.’

  ‘Well, they are. But there are limits.’

  ‘What was the quarrel about, I wonder?’

  ‘I don’t know. There are always quarrels among the stablemen, and these quarrels affect us all. Me, for instance.’

  ‘It will affect your deliveries.’

  ‘It will. I’ve got quite a few of them, and it all adds up. Of course, as I said, that’s not the main consideration.’

  ‘The family?’

  ‘And Hamid himself. I shall miss him.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘You get to know a person when you work with them for a long time. You get to depend on him. And now that he’s gone …’

  ‘Well, I don’t mind dropping the occasional package in for you. Occasional, of course.’

  ‘You’re not looking for a job?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. But glad to help out.’

  ‘You’re like that, I know. A decent man, and much appreciated.’

  Georgiades dropped in on the widow as he went back to the stables.

  ‘So how’s it going?’

  ‘Badly.’

  ‘Heard anything from the Kewfiks yet?’

  ‘Not a thing.’

  ‘Well, of course, with the master in hospital …’

  ‘He’s got a wife, hasn’t he? And Abdullah is supposed to be running things in the stable yard while he’s away.’

  ‘Isn’t he running things?’

  ‘Yes, but only little things. The stables run themselves really, and Abdullah lets them run.’

  ‘He doesn’t do anything new?’

  ‘Never did, of course.’

  ‘All the same, a little money for you, now that Hamid’s gone, would be only right.’

  ‘You would have thought so. Hamid worked for them for twenty years.’

  ‘No money at all yet?’

  ‘Only what I’ve put by myself. That won’t go far, with all the mouths to feed.’

  ‘Of course, the Kauris are the ones who should be paying. They’re the ones who killed him.’

  ‘They will be paying, the Old Woman says. They’ve agreed to do that. But how much has still to be settled.’

  ‘The Old Woman of the souk, is this?’

  ‘Yes. She’s the go-between and the good thing about having her is that once it’s agreed, it’s agreed. Both sides abide by what she says.’
/>
  ‘No argument after that?’

  ‘That’s right. And it’s a blessing for such as me, who hasn’t anyone to speak up for them.’

  ‘And in the end, the more that have been party to it the better. There’s less chance of anyone slipping back.’

  ‘That’s just what the Old Woman said to me!’

  ‘She’s a wise old bird.’

  ‘She is.’

  ‘She knows what’s going on.’

  ‘She does.’

  ‘Tell me, is the scentmaker in on this? Because he ought to be. Ought to be making a bit of a contribution to you too. Because Hamid did quite a lot of work for him. It would be only fair.’

  ‘Well, yes it would. I never thought of that!’

  ‘I wonder if the Old Woman has thought of it? It’s a question of fairness, isn’t it? It is wrong to leave people out. Especially those who did a lot of the work. And Hamid was one of those.’

  ‘He certainly was. He was always carrying loads for the scentmaker.’

  ‘I know. I carried one myself after Hamid was gone. It’s not a thing I’d want to do regularly, but I thought I’d give the scentmaker a hand when Hamid went. Just for the once when he was left in the lurch.’

  ‘Well, he was. He depended on Hamid.’

  ‘It was a big package. Quite heavy, and do you know what? I thought it was for you. Scent, you know. But there seemed rather a lot of it.’

  The woman laughed.

  ‘Scent? For me? That would be the day!’

  ‘But then I saw that it was addressed to Shawquat.’

  ‘Yes, they mostly were.’

  ‘Scent? For Shawquat?’

  ‘It wasn’t scent.’

  ‘No, I suppose it wasn’t. But – if it wasn’t scent, what was it?’

  ‘Hashish, I’ll bet. Or some other thing.’

  ‘Of course! Even so, I’m surprised. I didn’t think Shawquat was the sort of man.’

  ‘Oh, it wasn’t for him.’

  ‘Who was it for then?’

  ‘Ali Fingari.’

  ‘Ali Fingari? The old man? Osman Kewfik’s uncle?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, I’m surprised. I didn’t think he was a hashish user. I thought he was a strict man!’

  ‘Oh, he is a strict man. Never takes any himself. He changes it into money – that’s where Shawquat comes in – and uses the money to buy political support. Or so Hamid said. He was always meddling in politics.’

  She stopped suddenly.

  ‘Yes?’

  She laid a finger on her lips.

  ‘Hamid said that in the end the money finished up with the Khedive himself … I don’t know if that’s true or not. There’s so much going on in Court circles that you never really know. But that’s what Hamid thought. He said they were always playing politics and for politics you need money.’

  ‘There’s truth in that.’

  ‘Mind you, it may just have been talk. There’s a lot of wild talk about in the souk. There always is. And I don’t know that Hamid knew more about it than anyone else. But it’s what he said. And he was nearer to the whole business than most people.’

  ‘Too near, do you think? Was that why he was killed?’

  She looked at him for a moment in shock. Then she put her finger back over her lips.

  ‘I don’t know. It’s best not to know these things. He was always a good man to me.’

  Owen went over to the area where the Kauri boys lived. As he was entering it he met the Old Woman coming out.

  ‘Why, mother!’ he said. ‘What brings you here?’

  ‘The same as what bring you here, I suspect.’

  ‘And what is that?’

  ‘Music,’ she said. ‘Could it be music?’

  ‘Music? No, I don’t think so. Ought it to be?’

  ‘That depends on what you are looking for.’

  ‘I was looking for the reason why the Kauri boys killed Hamid.’

  ‘Ah. In that case, music won’t help you.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I am interested in what you might have to tell me about music.’

  ‘I am not sure that I have anything to tell you about music.’

  ‘But you think that I should be thinking about music?’

  ‘It is always good to think about music.’

  ‘Even now, when I am thinking about something else?’

  ‘It is a question of what you think is the most important. I had thought that your mind was on something else.’

  ‘One thinks about many things.’

  ‘If one is a thinking person, yes.’

  ‘As you are, mother.’

  ‘I hope so. At the moment I am just talking and listening.’

  ‘To some purpose, I hope.’

  ‘I hope so, too.’

  ‘And are you succeeding?’

  ‘I think so. Little by little. Mamur Zapt, I am surprised that you have not involved yourself in this before.’

  ‘I was leaving it to you.’

  She laughed.

  ‘So like a man!’

  ‘Knowing you could do it better.’

  ‘Well, we’ll see. What I have been trying to do is not just end the matter of Hamid’s killing sensibly – which I think I shall do – but also end this stupid dispute between the Kewfiks and the Kauris in a way that means it doesn’t come up again.’

  ‘The children will bless you, mother, if you can achieve that.’

  ‘And do not bother about the price for Hamid. That is seen to.’

  ‘Good. I do not like a woman being left to manage on her own.’

  ‘She won’t be. The souk looks after its own.’

  ‘And the man who killed Hamid?’

  ‘It is best not to ask.’

  As she rode away on her little donkey Owen thought how tired she looked. Understandably, if she had been spending all morning reasoning with the Kauris. He wondered now if he should go in to the Kauris or whether the Old Woman had done all that was necessary. In the end he decided that it might blur the message if he went in now. He looked up the street for a coffee house that he might go to.

  There wasn’t one, but he could see, under the palm trees, a native restaurant. It consisted of a large round tray with a dip in the middle for the charcoal and shallow sides across which had been lain pieces of meat for cooking and the vegetables that Egyptians loved: artichokes, beans, onions. From somewhere came a heavy smell of garlic. There were several people squatting on the ground round it. They took in at once that he was an Effendi, nevertheless made space for him courteously. He thanked them and squatted down. All sorts of people sat at these pavement restaurants, rich, poor, old, young. They were convivial places, as good for a chat as for food. One drank water, and that was the big snag of such places. The water was always lukewarm. Some served tea or coffee and they were somewhat better bets.

  A ripple of wind ran through the palm leaves above and then stirred the air on the pavement.

  The owner of the restaurant came round to take his order. Owen indicated a piece of meat impaled on a spike and the man served it with lettuce. Some were afraid of eating from the common dish like this but Owen had always found the food clean and wholesome.

  He fell into conversation with his neighbour. Owen remarked that he had just seen the Old Woman of the souk.

  ‘A good woman!’ he said.

  ‘She is.’

  ‘And it does my heart good to see that she is well. This is wisdom on the part of the Kauris.’

  ‘And on the part of the Kewfiks,’ said his neighbour. ‘For it takes two to end a quarrel.’

  Owen concurred.

  ‘Would that all quarrels could be resolved like this!’

  ‘True.’

  They were all elderly men and that was probably why they could talk about such things peaceably. Or perhaps it was that he himself was growing older and found he could talk easily with the Egyptian of the streets. He put this to his neighbour, who at once concurred. Several other
men joined in.

  ‘As one grows older, one grows into wisdom,’ one said.

  ‘Even Effendis!’ said Owen. There was a general mutter of support.

  ‘To a man who walks through the streets,’ said Owen, ‘and who sees so much good, it hurts when one sees evil fall on a man like Hamid.’

  He had wondered if they would know of Hamid, but they seemed to, for they nodded in agreement.

  ‘I cannot but wonder how it came about, since from all I hear Hamid was a man of good standing and did not act rashly.’

  ‘It came about,’ said a man sitting opposite him, ‘not because he acted rashly but because he was with another who did. This man knew he was carrying something he should not have been carrying and demanded roughly to have some of it for himself. And Hamid said: “It is not mine to give.” But the man spoke again and snatched it and Hamid was angry. And when Hamid tried to fend him off the man stabbed him.’

  ‘That was bad!’

  ‘It was very bad. For these things do not have borders built around them and one thing affects another. Hamid was a Kewfik man and when he was killed, the Kewfiks might want recompense.’

  ‘It could have spread further,’ said Owen. ‘As you rightly said, these things do not have borders. It was wise of the elders to call in the Old Woman.’

  They all agreed with that.

  ‘An old head holds wisdom!’

  ‘Sitting where she does, she sees much and hears much. And then she thinks on it before speaking.’

  ‘That is wise,’ said Owen. ‘And I wish I did the same.’

  There were mutters of agreement.

  ‘But when she speaks,’ Owen went on, ‘it is not always clear to me what she is saying.’

  Again there were mutters of agreement.

  ‘Take, for instance, the business of the Shawquat boy and the Kewfik girl. You know what I am talking about? The nay player and the rich girl? You have heard the story? Well, in case you haven’t, I will tell you. There was once – there still is – a poor nay player, who fell in love with a rich girl and she in love with him. Wiser heads knew that this would end badly. But these were not wise heads, they were young heads. And some bad men observed them and decided to seize the girl and make off with her. So they took her from the boy.’

  ‘I know the boy,’ said someone. ‘It is Ali Shawquat.’

  ‘That is the boy. And the girl—’

  ‘The Kewfik daughter.’