The Baghdad Railway Club(48)

‘And how did he seem?’

‘He seemed a bit down if you ask me‚ sir, but I’d got to know him a little and that was his nature – a rather melancholic sort. The second time I saw him he was walking alone by the river, and that did bother me.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I didn’t know what he might do.’

‘You mean he might chuck himself in?’

‘He was a man who came into his own on the battlefield; the rest of the time he was up or down really, not much in between.’

We’d come to a square with a mosque in it. Market stalls were being set up, with canopies of brightly coloured stripes. Jarvis indicated a gate in a wall, with a low building behind palms. This had been Boyd’s digs. Jarvis stopped the van but once again kept the engine running.

Jarvis said, ‘I talked to his man—’

‘You mean his batman?’ I cut in, ‘the one who took over from you?’

Jarvis shook his head. ‘He didn’t have another batman. He said he didn’t want one in Baghdad.’

(Well, an officer could choose to go without, and probably would do, if he had secrets to keep. I did not believe that either Shepherd or Stevens had one either.)

‘When I say his “man”,’ Jarvis continued, ‘I mean his boy – the Arab servant. He has hardly a word of English. Got nothing out of him at all – not even using the dictionary in this.’ So saying, he half lifted a book from his tunic pocket: City of the Khalifs.

‘We’ll come back later,’ I said, and Jarvis looked surprised at me. It was the first time I’d indicated that I had an interest in finding out about Boyd. ‘We’ll bring Ahmad with us.’

‘That’s a clever notion is that, sir,’ said Jarvis.

I couldn’t tell what he really thought, however, for he was now making a great deal of a palaver about reversing in the square, to the amusement of some Arabs and the irritation of others. Two minutes later we were running along the river – a smoother road, where the engine ran cleaner so that the petrol smell that had filled the cab began to fade. But it was replaced by another: a penetrating, sweet smell coming from Jarvis.

‘Samarrah,’ he said. ‘It means a joy for all to see.’

‘Mmm . . .’ I said.

‘Just think if a day dawned like this in Scarborough,’ he went on, as we contemplated the boats of the river. ‘You’d be overjoyed, wouldn’t you, sir?’

‘I think I’d be quite alarmed,’ I said.

‘Think on, sir,’ said Jarvis, ‘old Giordano, who has the ice-cream concession on the South Bay . . . He moved house from a little tumbledown cottage in the Old Town to a big place near the station on the strength of one scorching hot summer – 1911, sir, as you’ll remember. But a summer like this . . . why, he’d be on the Esplanade: one of those white mansions up from the Spa! And he’d have Tom Jackson, who does the donkey rides, for a neighbour!’

Yes, I thought, and after three months of 120-degree heat, the town undertakers would be up there with them. We came to the bridge of boats, and showed our papers to a sentry. There was now a proper guard post with barrier. The van bounced crazily on the bridge.

‘Have you heard of Harriet Bailey, Jarvis?’ I said.

He said brightly‚ ‘She’s about the only white woman here, apart from a few of the officers’ wives.’

‘She was at this meeting I went to on Saturday,’ I said.

‘I believe she came up here about the same time as me.’

‘Where from?’

‘Basrah.’

‘So she didn’t come up directly after the city fell?’

‘No, no, a few weeks after. She’s just the ticket isn’t she, sir? Very pretty – and clever with it. Terrifying combination in a woman really, sir. She’s quoted a lot in here,’ he said, indicating again The City of the Khalifs. ‘A lot of letters after her name. By the way‚ sir, did you see those shades on the market stall? Green, red and white stripes. Before I came here, sir, I thought all the Arabs would be togged up like that, and all with the shoes curled up at the toes.’

I merely gave a grunt, and Jarvis fell silent on the rubble roads leading to the station. On the tracks round about there now stood a fair quantity of locos, some animal wagons, flat-bed wagons, a steam crane. The Elephant had been shunted into the station, and pointed in the direction of Samarrah – and she was in steam. This I discovered when Jarvis put me out by the tracks at the station mouth. As I climbed down from the van, he looked me over.

‘Revolver, sir?’ he said.