Read Online Cause Celeb by Helen Fielding - Free Book Online Page B

and beautiful as the years rolled by, secure in the knowledge that at the end of your life someone would be happy to play with you, change your nappy and push you round in a pram till you turned back into an egg. Trying to push unpleasant existential thoughts to the back of my mind, I stepped out into the hot light and headed for the cabana.
    The lunch was over and there was a scene of intense absorption, furious tearing of envelopes, silent, urgent reading. It was hard to overestimate the importance of the mail in Safila, the arrival of a letter, or its nonappearance, could bring about massive mood swings. I looked around and saw that neither Betty nor Malcolm was there. She was probably lecturing him about the Teeth of the Wind. I had better make sure she didn’t put him off. With some self-control, I ignored the small pile of mail, including a parcel which was for me, and stepped outside.
    Betty looked up guiltily as I approached. “I know Rosie will say I’m a silly old moo,” she said, “but, Malcolm, I really do think it is beholden on us to respond.”
    Something peculiar happened to Betty’s vowels when she was showing off. Be heow lden, res pund.
    Malcolm already looked desperate to get away from Betty’s re- spunses . He required delicate handling. He was efficient, so long aseverything was logged and predictable: which simply wasn’t the way things worked here. He also had the sort of mind which loved to walk in very slow circles around things, looking at them without getting too close.
    â€œHas Betty explained to you about the rumors?” I asked him.
    â€œYes, yes. It’s, er, I have heard something of this in Sidra. It’s an interesting development. I think we must wait and see, er, see what develops.” Sidra was the nearest town, where there was a UN office, and telephones that worked on odd occasions.
    â€œWell, the thing is if it does develop, it’ll happen so fast we won’t be able to deal with it. We’re short on stocks anyway. You know the UN have told us we can’t have the delivery? Do you know when this ship’s going to arrive?”
    â€œI, er, well, actually, I was just hoping to get back to Sidra quickly to talk about that sort of area of things and other, er, related matters. So I think, if it’s all right with you here, and there are no other matters to be gone over then I will make a hasty departure, as there is a great deal, as I say, to be gone into in Sidra.”
    I decided I had better tell him what I knew, but it did all sound a bit thin. As far as I was concerned the strongest piece of evidence was that Muhammad believed there was a problem. But when I tried to convey this to Malcolm, it sounded suspect, almost as if I was in love with Muhammad Mahmoud and expecting twins by him.
    I made Malcolm promise to radio back to me about the food, and alert head office in London. He said he would discuss the matter with the UN High Commission for Refugees, who gave out the food. He didn’t sound particularly enamored of the idea. I was not convinced that he’d put the whole force of his personality, such as it was, behind it.
    â€œAh,” said Malcolm, interrupting me, looking over my shoulder. “Don’t suppose I could have my socks back before I go, could I?”
    I turned round to see O’Rourke, who looked surprised and then said, “Sure,” and bent down to take off his shoes and socks. Both his feet were real. He straightened up and looked at me, rolling the socks and handing them to Malcolm. “I knew I’d forgotten to bringsomething,” he said. “Guess I’ll have to, er, weave some.” He had an unexpected smile which came and went very quickly.
    I followed Malcolm to the gate to wave him off, feeling that I’d got it wrong. Malcolm had refugee settlements on every border in the country to oversee. I hadn’t convinced him to do much about us. I walked a