corporal stared at the neat stacks of new English pound notes which filled the small case. He said: “Jesus Christ, you’re loadedl” It crossed Wolff’s mind, even as he stepped forward, that Cox had never seen so much money in his life. Cox began to turn, saying: “What do you want with all tbat–2′ Wolff pulled the wicked curved Bedouin knife, and it glinted in his hand as his eyes met Cox’s, and Cox flinched and opened his mouth to shout; and then the razor-sbarp blade sliced deep into the soft flesh of his throat, and his shout of fear came as a bloody gurgle and he died; and Wolff felt nothing, only disappointment. 2
It was May, and the khamsin was blowing, a hot dusty wind from the south. Standing Inder the ihower, William Vandarn had the depressing thought that this would be the only time he would feel cool all day. He tumed off the water and dried himself rapidly. His body was full of small aches. He had played cricket the day before, for the first time in years. General Staff Intelligence bad got up a team to play the doctors from the field hospital- – spies versus quacks, they had called it-and Vandam, fielding on the boundary, had been run ragged as the medics hit the Intelligence Department’s bowling all over the park. Now he had to admit he was not in good condition. Gin had sapped his strength and cigarettes had shortened his wind, and he had too many worries to give the game the fierce concentration it merited. He lit a cigarette, cotighed -.tnd started to shave. He always smoked while he was shaving- -it was the only way he knew to relieve the boredom of the inevitable daily task. Fifteen years ago he had sworn he would grow a beard as soon as he got out of the Army, but he was still in the Army. He dressed in the everyday -iniform: heavy sandals, socks, bush shirt and the khaki ~horts with the flaps that could be let down and buttoned below the knee for protection against mosquitoes. Nobody ever osed the flaps, and the younger officers usually cut them off, they looked so ridiculous. There was an emptv gin bottle on the floor beside the bed. Vandam looked at it, feeling -lisgusted with himself: it was the first time he had taken the damn bottle to bed with him. He picked it up, replaced the cap and threw the bottle into the wastebasket. Then he went downstairs. 18 THE KEY TO REBECCA 19
Gaafar was in the kitchen, making tea. Vandam’s servant was an elderly Copt with a bald head and a shuffling walk, and pretensions to be an English butler. That he would never be, but he had a little dignity and be was honest, and Vandam had not found those qualities to be common among Egyptian house servants. Vandam said: “Is Billy up?” “Yes, sir, he’s coming down directly.” Vandarn nodded. A small pan of water was bubbling on the stove. Vandarn put an egg in to boil and set the timer. He cut two slices from an English-type loaf and made toast. He buttered the toast and cut it into fingers, then he took the egg out of the water and decapitated it. Billy came into the kitchen and said: “Good morning, Dad.” Vandarn smiled at his ten-year-old son. “Morning. Breakfast is ready.” The boy began to eat. Vandam sat opposite him with a cup of tea, watching. Billy often looked tired in the mornings recently. Once upon a time he had been infallibly daisy-fresh at breakfast. Was he sleeping badly? Or was his metabolism simply becoming more like an adult’s? Perhaps it was just that be was staying awake late, reading detective stories under the sheet by the light of a flashlight. People said Billy was like his father, but Vandam could not see the resemblance. However, he could see traces of Billy’s mother: the gray eyes, the delicate skin and the faintly supercilious expression which came over his face when someone crossed him. Vandam always prepared his son’s breakfast. The servant was perfectly capable of looking after the boy, of course, and most of the time he did; but Vandam liked to keep this little ritual for himself. Often it was the only time he was with Billy all day. They did not talk much-Billy ate and Vandam smoked-but that did not matter: the important thing was that they were together for a while at the start of each day. After breakfast Billy brushed his teeth while Gaafar got out Vandam’s motorcycle. Billy came back wearing his school cap, and Vandam put on his uniform cap. As they did every day, they saluted each other. Billy said: “Right, sir-let’s go and win the war.” 20 Ken Follett