The Egyptologist - Arthur Phillips [194]
He replied in calm English with an Aussie ring: “General Allenby.”
“Right then,” fucking Marlowe enunciates in English. “You’d best have leave to be off base at this hour, soldier, and have a signed chit for that motorcycle I heard.” You would have been proud of my rough sergeant’s manner, Bev, and that I still refused to break my martial rhythms. “Name.” He saluted smartly and answered. “You’ve not heard the end of this. I’m ordering you back to base immediately.”
“Yes, sah, Captain Marlowe, sah, right away, sah.” The ready use of my name did dishearten me a bit, as you can well imagine, and if I’d had more wit or confidence I could actually hit anything with the damned toy, I would have reached for my Webley, shot the digger, finished my engagement in peace, and found an explanation later. As it was, I heard his ’cycle buzz away, I stirruped my mount back into the shadows and tried not to think about it.
Next day, though, I admit I was a bit concerned about repercussions, but my tormentor did not keep me suffering for long. Before my servant had even finished telling me that an ANZAC was waiting outside at my request, into my tent strode this same jackeroo of the previous evening. “At my request?” I repeated with a tone, dismissed my servant, and set to winding my puttees myself.
“Had the impression you were unhappy with me last night, sah.”
“Not at all, not at all. All you Aussies have proven to be excellent soldiers. No unhappiness at all. Anything else then?”
“If I may, sah, beg leave to enquire, what is it about the Australian fighting man that most impresses you, sah?”
I finished my puttees, sat back on my daybed, and considered the little shit, though he gazed militarily into the middle distance, where I am sure he could see the universe laying itself out very well indeed for him.
“I suppose that would be the native Aussie discretion, wouldn’t it?”
“Our watchword, sah.”
“Quite.”
“Sah, if I may say, interesting this: the ancient Egyptians so respected this particular trait—discretion—above all others that they gave military promotions for just that.”
“Funny, I can’t say I recall ever reading that.”
“No, sah? Well, state education down under is terribly thin, you know, sah, so it spurred me to independent scholarship.”
“I see. Yes, you may be right, ancient cultures rather up for interpretation at the end of the day, aren’t they? I shall look into that claim, perhaps contact an old don. Anything else today, Private?”
“Shall I write my name down for you, sah?”
“Shouldn’t be necessary, I don’t think.”
“Very good, sah, at your service, sah.”
He had me, Bev. I swallowed my dignity, and a few days later I had business again at the Aussie base at Tel el Kebir. There I mentioned to the appropriate AIF company commander that one of his number, who had some Arabic, had been of particular use on a series of counterintelligence interrogations I had been conducting, and certainly not my place, of course, but the fellow might merit a bump up to lance corporal if they had an opening in those lofty ranks. The price? I had to listen to the most excruciating stories about this captain’s fiancée back in Melbourne and coo over a photograph of the most unspeakably hideous woman in the history of that sex, if she was not in fact a shaven wallaby in skirts.
Thus endeth my steamy adventure, B. I should think I’m in the clear, and have heard the last of my nasty Sven from the bottom of the earth. Of course, I shouldn’t be surprised if he turns up expecting a few piastres for his continued discretion, but he should also know that I can make his life quite miserable here, have him detailed to something awfully unpleasant if not absolutely fatal.
In other exciting news from the scene of mankind’s great endeavour on behalf of world peace, I found something rather extraordinary in the bazaar this past week, though I can hardly believe it is not an imposture. I bought it on the strength of its convincing appearance, better than the usual absurd forgeries. I am not done deciphering it, but it appears to