government of their Commonwealth had first handed them. Their conversation was by now that of men who knew much about Egyptian gharry drivers, peddlers and tailors, of men in dirty jalabiyas selling red roses for “the lady.” No mention of the dens of the Wazzir. These young men might recount amusing tales of this or that soldier, the hard cases, the rough men from the bush. And all the chatter called forth out of Sally unexpected laughter, as if they’d been sent to teach her that old skill. By their energy as much as the force of parody or satire they diverted both the Durance sisters—the conversation so much livelier than anything Sally had ever known.
There was always though in the end the matter of where she came from. Soldiers felt the presence of women couldn’t console them unless geography was cleared up first. These young men were all from more favored homes and places than the Durance sisters. However, Naomi had the presence for their sort of company—the capacity to carry it off and seem worldly and not to be overwhelmed by social castes. By escaping the Macleay early she had rendered such matters as of no importance. Sally had not learned the same skill yet. Naomi looked like she could be some pastoral magnate’s daughter. On the strength of that she might one day grow into being a squatter’s wife or some such thing and no one would be able to sniff out that she was born of a mere one-hundred-and-fifty-acre dairy farmer and had trodden in manure on the way to school.
One of the men would suddenly mention dinner in Cairo—at the Shepheard Hotel or the Windsor or at the Parisiana. The idea was sure to capture other officers and the nurses with the novelty of an invention. Nurses took the arm of a particular officer. Naomi willingly took the arm of Ellis Hoyle. But some were left unattached, of whom—by firm choice—Sally Durance was one and Nettice another. Freud too was sometimes an unaccompanied woman since she possessed a dark grandeur that scared men.
Then—at the end of dinner when the last of the wine was served—a proposal would arise that everyone go out by gharry and see the pyramids and the Sphinx by starlight. Drivers would bring up the cars later to take the party back to the hospital and the camp. All of them had of course been to the pyramids many times—all the nurses had hired horses at Mena and ridden out by late afternoon. But night-time was different and emphasized the stone eternity of the things. Naomi and Ellis Hoyle rode in the one gharry, engrossed. How strange to see Naomi prefer someone openly. For there was a bit of surrender in that—and Sally hadn’t thought her sister was a girl for surrender.
Sally’s own companion—though the gharries could carry more than two, the unuttered rule was that people should travel in couples—turned out to be a tall, rather florid officer named Lieutenant Maclean. He was well-built but not exactly muscular. His heavy body was a bit too present, though not objectionable. Sally wondered whether that meant he would make an easier target than the others. He draped a horse blanket over his knees because it was now cold. But Sally was too squeamish to share it and waved it aside when by gesture he offered it.
You see that, he said, pointing across her body—but his arm not too close—to the gutter full of cabbage leaves. See the leaves stirring there?
The leaves were stirring. Now she could see there were at least two children sleeping amongst the husks.
Poor little beggars! he said. It doesn’t matter who wins, they’ll still sleep out in cabbage leaves.
Though if the Turks came, Sally argued, things might be worse still.
Well, we like to think so, don’t we? I wonder what they’d say if we asked them. In any case, the Turks aren’t coming yet, it seems. Our masters marched us out there and told us to make the chaps dig trenches in the desolation of gravel. But the Turks didn’t come.
He laughed but didn’t seem angry
There was always though in the end the matter of where she came from. Soldiers felt the presence of women couldn’t console them unless geography was cleared up first. These young men were all from more favored homes and places than the Durance sisters. However, Naomi had the presence for their sort of company—the capacity to carry it off and seem worldly and not to be overwhelmed by social castes. By escaping the Macleay early she had rendered such matters as of no importance. Sally had not learned the same skill yet. Naomi looked like she could be some pastoral magnate’s daughter. On the strength of that she might one day grow into being a squatter’s wife or some such thing and no one would be able to sniff out that she was born of a mere one-hundred-and-fifty-acre dairy farmer and had trodden in manure on the way to school.
One of the men would suddenly mention dinner in Cairo—at the Shepheard Hotel or the Windsor or at the Parisiana. The idea was sure to capture other officers and the nurses with the novelty of an invention. Nurses took the arm of a particular officer. Naomi willingly took the arm of Ellis Hoyle. But some were left unattached, of whom—by firm choice—Sally Durance was one and Nettice another. Freud too was sometimes an unaccompanied woman since she possessed a dark grandeur that scared men.
Then—at the end of dinner when the last of the wine was served—a proposal would arise that everyone go out by gharry and see the pyramids and the Sphinx by starlight. Drivers would bring up the cars later to take the party back to the hospital and the camp. All of them had of course been to the pyramids many times—all the nurses had hired horses at Mena and ridden out by late afternoon. But night-time was different and emphasized the stone eternity of the things. Naomi and Ellis Hoyle rode in the one gharry, engrossed. How strange to see Naomi prefer someone openly. For there was a bit of surrender in that—and Sally hadn’t thought her sister was a girl for surrender.
Sally’s own companion—though the gharries could carry more than two, the unuttered rule was that people should travel in couples—turned out to be a tall, rather florid officer named Lieutenant Maclean. He was well-built but not exactly muscular. His heavy body was a bit too present, though not objectionable. Sally wondered whether that meant he would make an easier target than the others. He draped a horse blanket over his knees because it was now cold. But Sally was too squeamish to share it and waved it aside when by gesture he offered it.
You see that, he said, pointing across her body—but his arm not too close—to the gutter full of cabbage leaves. See the leaves stirring there?
The leaves were stirring. Now she could see there were at least two children sleeping amongst the husks.
Poor little beggars! he said. It doesn’t matter who wins, they’ll still sleep out in cabbage leaves.
Though if the Turks came, Sally argued, things might be worse still.
Well, we like to think so, don’t we? I wonder what they’d say if we asked them. In any case, the Turks aren’t coming yet, it seems. Our masters marched us out there and told us to make the chaps dig trenches in the desolation of gravel. But the Turks didn’t come.
He laughed but didn’t seem angry
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