The Mingrelian Conspiracy. Michael Pearce
yet.’
‘And that, of course,’ said Zeinab, disregarding him, ‘creates a major problem: what am I going to wear?’
‘It’s not been decided yet. The meeting’s not till tomorrow. Look, I know. I’m going to it.’
‘And then there will be the opera as well. I’ll need two dresses. The trouble is, there isn’t a decent dress in Cairo. Anton says he might be getting some in, but everyone will be fighting for them and, besides, they’ll all have seen them. So I thought I would cable Paris direct. Now here’s the problem: I don’t want to do it through Posts and Telegraphs in the ordinary way, or else people will get to know about it. So – look, are you listening, this is important – can you send a cable for me? Using the diplomatic channel?’
‘No. Absolutely not.’
‘I’ll bet the Consul-General’s wife is.’
‘What she does is her own business.’
‘You don’t love me,’ said Zeinab.
‘Of course I love you. Now –’
‘You don’t love me. Not in the way he loves her.’
‘I should bloody hope not,’ said Owen, an image of the Consul-General and his stately lady coming vividly before his mind.
‘I know what it is. You don’t want me to go. You are ashamed of me. There will be all those lords and ladies, those petty princelings from petty little countries, Wales, I wouldn’t be surprised, and you say: what is an Egyptian woman doing among that lot? Well, let me tell you, the daughter of a Pasha, especially the illegitimate daughter of a Pasha, has got more love and life and passion in her little finger than any of them have in their whole body!’
‘I think that’s more than likely,’ said Owen.
‘Wasted!’ said Zeinab dramatically. ‘On you!’
‘Not wasted; I greatly enjoy it.’
‘In private, yes, but not in public.’
‘Well, what the hell do you want us to do? Make love in the middle of Abdin Square?’
‘Take me to the ball.’
‘I am taking you to the ball. If there is one.’
‘You know I can’t come if I’m not properly dressed.’
‘You will be properly dressed. You’ve got lots of dresses. They’re all there on the rack. Look, bloody hundreds of them –’
‘You want to see me in rags!’
‘Rags! This one cost more than a year’s pay! You told me. Afterwards.’
‘I passed the bill to my father. He will not want to see me dressed like some parvenue. He has pride. We are like that in Egypt. Proud people. We know what is fitting. Unlike the boring, bourgeois British.’
‘Look, I am not going to use the Diplomatic Postbag just to send a cable to your couturier.’
‘Just?’ said Zeinab.
Even the flies in the committee room seemed stupefied by the heat. This was unusual, thought Owen, since flies were normally the most active part of the population. Perhaps it was not the heat that was getting to them but committee life. The shutters of the committee room were kept closed in a vain attempt to keep the temperature down and perhaps the flies could never get out. They spent their lives in eternal committee. My God, thought Owen; what a life! For a second or two he felt quite indignant on their behalf but then the heat had its effect on him, too, and he settled back gloomily in his chair.
‘The itinerary first,’ said Paul. ‘Duke Nicholas will transfer to the Khedivial Yacht at Alexandria, pass through the Canal to Suez and then take the overland train to Cairo. He will spend three days in Cairo as the guest of His Royal Highness, the Khedive, and then go upriver to Luxor to view the antiquities. He will then return to Cairo and spend two days at the Palace recovering from the rigours of his journey. Then he will travel by train to Alexandria, spend a day there and depart by boat on the Thursday evening. The whole visit will last twelve days, including the two to be spent on the Royal Yacht.’
‘That bit should be all right from the point of view of security,’ observed the major.
‘He’ll be spending a good time on the water, what with the river trip,’ said McPhee.
‘I’ll turn to security later,’ said Paul. The first question, though, is what we’re going to do with him while he’s here. The Khedive would like to reproduce as far as possible the visit of Duke Nicholas’s uncle, the Crown Prince, when he came here to open the Suez Canal.’
‘Out of the question!’ said Finance Department immediately. ‘Cost too much!’
‘“As far as possible”,’ said Paul. ‘Those are the key words, I think. Surely we can accede to His Royal Highness’s wishes to that extent? Of course, we may not be able to go as far as he would like –’
‘As long as we bear in mind budgetary constraints,’ said Finance Department.
‘Just so. Now, Mr Abd-es-Salem is here representing the Court, and I wonder if he could tell us what His Royal Highness has in mind with respect to the programme?’
‘Well, last time the Khedive commissioned an opera –’
‘No!’ said Finance Department quickly.
‘– and built the new Opera House.’
‘My God!’ said Finance Department.
‘After consideration, the Khedive would not, perhaps, wish to go so far this time. But he does feel that, in view of its centrality on the previous visit, opera should have at least some part in the programme –’
‘Does he now?’ said Paul, sitting up.
‘Out of the question!’ said Finance Department. ‘Too costly!’
‘Oh, come!’
‘That was what bankrupted Egypt in the first place,’ said Finance Department.
‘What better thing to be bankrupted by?’ murmured Paul.
‘Actually, I must support the Khedive,’ said Owen, who thought there was a chance of getting a performance of Aida out of this. ‘I feel that since His Royal Highness has expressed the wish to reproduce as closely as possible the original arrangements, we ought to do the best we can to oblige him.’
Mr Abd-es-Salem flashed him a grateful glance.
‘If you’re thinking of Aida,’ said Finance Department smugly, ‘you can think again. Aida wasn’t actually performed on the original visit. It was commissioned for the opening of the Canal but wasn’t ready on time. It was performed some time after.’
‘All the more reason for the Grand Duke to be able to see it now,’ suggested Paul.
‘Aida is completely out of the question,’ said Finance Department with emphasis. ‘I have this straight from the Treasury in London.’
‘They actually specified there was to be no Aida?’
‘Certainly. Opera is something they really know about in the Treasury.’
‘We could dispense with the animals,’ said Paul temptingly.
‘Animals?’ said the major.
‘Live animals were a feature of the original production,’ said Finance Department. ‘Lots of them! Actually, it wouldn’t be a good idea,’ he said to Paul. ‘Suppose the Grand Duke got eaten?’
‘We could keep him away from them. Owen could see to that –’
‘No animals,’ said Finance Department firmly. ‘And no Aida,