Part 28 (1/2)

'No, sir.' Well that was different.

'Did he send you?'

'No, sir.'

'Are you happy speaking Greek?' I queried drily, since his conversation did seem limited.

'Yes, sir.'

I would have told him he could drop the 'sir', but that would have left us staring in silence like seven-year-olds on their first day at school.

'Cough it up then. I'm needed on stage for prompting.'I. was anxious to see the panpipe girl's bosom, which appeared to be almost as alarmingly perfect as the bouncing attributes of a certain rope dancer I had dallied with in my bachelor days. For purely nostalgic reasons I wished to make a critical comparison. If possible, by taking measurements.

I wondered if my visitor had just come to cadge a free ticket. Obviously I would have obliged just to escape and return to the theatre. But as a hustler he was sadly slow, so I spelled it out for him. 'Look, if you want a seat, there are still one or two at the top of the auditorium. I'll arrange it, if you like.'

'Oh!' He sounded surprised. 'Yes, sir!'

I gave him a bone token from the pouch at my belt. The roars and whoops from the theatre behind us told me the orchestra girls had made their entrance. He didn't move. 'You're still hanging around,' I commented.

'Yes.'

'Well?'

'The message.'

'What about it?'

'I've come to get it.'

'But you're not Habib.'

'He's gone.'

'Gone where?'

'The desert.' Dear G.o.ds. The whole d.a.m.n country was desert. I was in no mood to start raking through the sands of Syria to find this elusive entrepreneur. In the rest of the world there were vintages to sample, rare works of art to acc.u.mulate, fine foods to cadge off rich buffoons. And not far from here there were women to ogle.

'When did he go?'

Two days ago.'

My mistake. We should have omitted Canatha.

No. If we had omitted Canatha, Canatha would have turned out to be where the b.a.s.t.a.r.d lived. Destiny was against me as usual. If the G.o.ds ever did decide to help me out, they would mislay their map and lose themselves on the road down from Mount Olympus.

'So!' I took a deep breath and started off again with the brief and unproductive dialogue. 'What did he go for?'

'To fetch his son back. Khaleed.'

'That's two answers to one question. I haven't asked you the second.'

'What?'

'What's his son's name?'

'He's called Khaleed!' wailed the red-faced drip of rennet plaintively. I sighed.

'Is Khaleed young, handsome, rich, wayward and utterly insensitive to the wishes and ambitions of his outraged parent?'

'Oh, you've met him!' I didn't need to. I had just spent several months adapting plays that were stuffed with tiresome versions of this character. Nightly I had watched Philocrates shed ten years, put on a red wig, and stuff a few scarves down his loincloth in order to play this l.u.s.ty delinquent.

'So where is he being a playboy?'

'Who, Habib?'

'Habib or Khaleed, what's the difference?'

'At Tadmor.'

'Palmyra?' I spat the Roman name at him.

'Palmyra, yes.'

He had told me right then. That really was the desert. The nasty geographical feature of Syria that being a fastidious type I had sworn to avoid. I had heard quite enough stories from my late brother the soldier about scorpions, thirst, warlike tribesmen, deadly infections from thorn p.r.i.c.kles, and men raving as their brains boiled in their helmets from the heat. Festus had told a lurid tale. Lurid enough to put me off.

Perhaps we were talking about entirely the wrong family.

'So answer me this: does your young Khaleed have a girlfriend?'

The dope in the s.h.i.+rt looked guarded. I had stumbled on a scandal. Not hard to do. It was the usual story after all, and in the end he admitted it with the usual intrigued glee. 'Oh yes! That's why Habib has gone to fetch him home.'

'I thought it might be! Daddy does not approve?'

'He's furious!'

'Don't look so worried. I know all about it. She's a musician, one with a certain Roman elegance but about as high-born as a gnat, completely without connections, and penniless?'

'That's what they say... So do I get the money?'

'n.o.body promised any money.'