Read Online A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters by Julian Barnes - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Julian Barnes
Ads: Link
they might have expected. On the other hand, the bad part lay quite close to the good part: being unhysterical, the visitors might also prove reliable, efficient, hard to divert from their purpose. And what was their purpose? Why had they hijacked the Santa Euphemia ? Who were they negotiating with? And who was steering the sodding ship, which as far as Franklin could tell was going round in large, slow circles?
From time to time, he would nod encouragingly to the Japanese at the next table. Passengers at the far end of the dining-room, he couldn’t help noting, would occasionally look up in his direction, as if checking that he was still there. He’d become the liaison man, perhaps even the leader. That Knossos lecture, in the circumstances, had been little short of brilliant; alot more ballsy than he’d imagined possible. It was the sitting alone like this that got him down; it made him brood. His initial burst of emotion – something close to exhilaration – was seeping away; in its place came lethargy and apprehension. Perhaps he should go and sit with Tricia and the Brits. But then they might take his citizenship away from him. This dividing-up of the passengers: did it mean what he feared it might mean?
Late that afternoon they heard a plane fly over, quite low. There was a muted cheer from the American section of the dining-room; then the plane went away. At six o’clock one of the Greek stewards appeared with a large tray of sandwiches; Franklin noted the effect of fear on hunger. At seven, as he went for a pee, an American voice whispered, ‘Keep up the good work.’ Back at his table, he tried to look soberly confident. The trouble was, the more he reflected, the less cheerful he felt. In recent years Western governments had been noisy about terrorism, about standing tall and facing down the threat; but the threat never seemed to understand that it was being faced down, and continued much as before. Those in the middle got killed; governments and terrorists survived.
At nine Franklin was summoned again to the purser’s office. The passengers were to be moved for the night: the Americans back to the lecture hall, the British to the disco, and so on. These separate encampments would then be locked. It was necessary: the visitors had to get their sleep as well. Passports were to be held ready for inspection at all times.
‘What about Mr Talbot?’
‘He has become an honorary American. Until he finds his passport.’
‘What about my wife?’
‘Miss Maitland. What about her?’
‘Can she join me?’
‘Ah. Your British wife.’
‘She’s Irish. You marry an Irishman you become Irish. It’s the law.’
‘The law, Mr Hughes. People are always telling us what is the law. I am often puzzled by what they consider is lawful and whatis unlawful.’ He looked away to a map of the Mediterranean on the wall behind Franklin. ‘Is it lawful to drop bombs on refugee camps, for instance? I have often tried to discover the law which says this is permissible. But it is a long argument, and sometimes I think argument is pointless, just as the law is pointless.’ He gave a dismissive shrug. ‘As for the matter of Miss Maitland, let us hope that her nationality does not become, how shall I put it, relevant.’
Franklin tried to damp down a shudder. There were times when euphemism could be much more frightening than direct threat. ‘Are you able to tell me when it might become … relevant?’
‘They are stupid, you see. They are stupid because they think we are stupid. They lie in the most obvious way. They say they do not have the authority to act. They say arrangements cannot be made quickly. Of course they can. There is such a thing as the telephone. If they think they have learned something from previous incidents of this kind, they are stupid not to realize that we have too. We know about their tactics, the lying and the delays, all this establishing of some kind of relationship with the freedom
From time to time, he would nod encouragingly to the Japanese at the next table. Passengers at the far end of the dining-room, he couldn’t help noting, would occasionally look up in his direction, as if checking that he was still there. He’d become the liaison man, perhaps even the leader. That Knossos lecture, in the circumstances, had been little short of brilliant; alot more ballsy than he’d imagined possible. It was the sitting alone like this that got him down; it made him brood. His initial burst of emotion – something close to exhilaration – was seeping away; in its place came lethargy and apprehension. Perhaps he should go and sit with Tricia and the Brits. But then they might take his citizenship away from him. This dividing-up of the passengers: did it mean what he feared it might mean?
Late that afternoon they heard a plane fly over, quite low. There was a muted cheer from the American section of the dining-room; then the plane went away. At six o’clock one of the Greek stewards appeared with a large tray of sandwiches; Franklin noted the effect of fear on hunger. At seven, as he went for a pee, an American voice whispered, ‘Keep up the good work.’ Back at his table, he tried to look soberly confident. The trouble was, the more he reflected, the less cheerful he felt. In recent years Western governments had been noisy about terrorism, about standing tall and facing down the threat; but the threat never seemed to understand that it was being faced down, and continued much as before. Those in the middle got killed; governments and terrorists survived.
At nine Franklin was summoned again to the purser’s office. The passengers were to be moved for the night: the Americans back to the lecture hall, the British to the disco, and so on. These separate encampments would then be locked. It was necessary: the visitors had to get their sleep as well. Passports were to be held ready for inspection at all times.
‘What about Mr Talbot?’
‘He has become an honorary American. Until he finds his passport.’
‘What about my wife?’
‘Miss Maitland. What about her?’
‘Can she join me?’
‘Ah. Your British wife.’
‘She’s Irish. You marry an Irishman you become Irish. It’s the law.’
‘The law, Mr Hughes. People are always telling us what is the law. I am often puzzled by what they consider is lawful and whatis unlawful.’ He looked away to a map of the Mediterranean on the wall behind Franklin. ‘Is it lawful to drop bombs on refugee camps, for instance? I have often tried to discover the law which says this is permissible. But it is a long argument, and sometimes I think argument is pointless, just as the law is pointless.’ He gave a dismissive shrug. ‘As for the matter of Miss Maitland, let us hope that her nationality does not become, how shall I put it, relevant.’
Franklin tried to damp down a shudder. There were times when euphemism could be much more frightening than direct threat. ‘Are you able to tell me when it might become … relevant?’
‘They are stupid, you see. They are stupid because they think we are stupid. They lie in the most obvious way. They say they do not have the authority to act. They say arrangements cannot be made quickly. Of course they can. There is such a thing as the telephone. If they think they have learned something from previous incidents of this kind, they are stupid not to realize that we have too. We know about their tactics, the lying and the delays, all this establishing of some kind of relationship with the freedom
Similar Books
