jump on to the platform. Wolff leaped after him. Elene ran to the door. Billy was racing along the platform, running like the wind. Wolff was charging after him. The few Egyptians standing ~round were looking on, mildly astonished, and doing nothmg. Elene stopped down from the train and ran after Wolff. The train shuddered, about to move. Wolff put on a burst of speed. Elene yelle& “Run Billy, runl” Billy looked over his shoulder. He was almost at the exit now. A ticket collector in a raincoat stood there, looking on openmouthed. Elene thought: They won’t let him out, he has no ticket. It did not matter, she realized, for the train was now inching forward, and Wolff had to get back on it. Wolff looked at the train, but did not slow his pace, Elene saw that Wolff was not going to catch Billy, and she thought: We did itt Then Billy fell. He had -slipped on something, a patch, of sand or a leaf. He lost his balance completely, and went flying through the air, carried by the momentum of his running, to hit the ground hard. Wolff was on him in a flash, bending to lift him. Elene caught up with them and jumped on Wolffs back. Wolff stumbled, losing his grip on Billy. Elene clung to Wolff. The train was moving slowly but steadily. Wolff grabbed Mene’s arms, broke her grip, and shook his wide shoulders, throwing her to the ground. For a moment she lay stunned. Looking up, she saw that Wolff had thrown Billy across his shoulder. The boy was yelling and hammering on Wolff’s back, without effect. Wolff ran alongside the moving train for a few paces, then jumped in through an open door. Elene wanted to stay where she was, never to see Wolff again; but she could not leave Billy. She struggled to her feet. She ran, stumbling, alongside the train. Someone reached out a hand to her. She took it, and jumped. She was aboard. She had failed miserably. She was back where she started. She felt crushed. She followed Wolff through the carriages back to their seats. She did not look at the faces of the people she passed. She saw Wolff give Billy one sharp smack on the bottom and dump him into his seat. The boy was crying silently. Wolff turned to Elene. “You’re a silly, crazy girl,” he said loudly, for the benefit of the other passengers. He grabbed 312 Ken Follett
her arm and pulled her closer to him. He slapped her face with the palm of his hand, then with the back, then with the palm, again and again. It hurt, but Elene had no energy to resist. At last the priest stood up, touched Wolff’s shoulder, and said something. Wolff let her go and sat down. She looked around. They were all staring at her. None of them would help her, for she was not just an Egyptian, she was an Egyptian woman, and women, like camels, had to be beaten from time to time. As she met the eyes of the other passengers they looked away, embarrassed, and turned to their newspapers, their books and the view from the windows. No one spoke to her. She fell into her seat. Useless, impotent rage boiled within her. Almost, they had almost escaped. She put her arm around the child and pulled him close. She began to stroke his hair. After a while he fell asleep. 27
Vandam heard the train puff, pull and puff again. It gathered speed and moved out of the station. Vandam took another drink of water. The bottle was empty. He put it back in his pannier. He drew on his cigarette and threw away the butt. No one but a few peasants had gotten off the train. Vandam kicked his motorcycle into life and drove away. In a few moments he was out of the little town and back on the straight, narrow road beside the canal. Soon he had left the train behind. It was noon: the sunshine was so hot it seemed tangible. Vandam imagined that if he stuck out his arm the beat would drag on it like a viscous liquid. The road ahead stretched into a shimmering infinity. Vandam thought: If I were to drive straight into the canal, how cool and refreshing it would bel Somewhere along the road he bad made a decision. He had set out from Cairo with no thought in his mind but to rescue Billy; but at some point he had realized that that was not his only duty. There was still the war. Vandam. was almost certain that Wolff had been too busy at midnight last night to use his radio. This morning be had given away the radio, thrown the book in the river and burned the key to the code. It was likely that be had another radio, another copy of Rebecca and another key to the code; and that the place they were all hidden was Assyut. If Vandam’s deception plan were to be implemented, he had to have the radio and the key-and that meant he had to let Wolff get to Assyut and retrieve his spare set. It ought to have been an agonizing decision, but somehow Vandam had taken it with equanimity. He had to rescue Billy 313 314 Ken Follett