sure she had explained to him why she was so anxious to return to Hong Kong â and why she had left to travel to Egypt in wartime in the first place. Had it been to visit the bedside of her dying mother? Yes, he rather fancied that was so. But now the reason seemed to him totally irrelevant.
âI am sorry, Mrs Sanderson, but the Secretary of State for the Colonies still believes Hong Kong to be at risk,â he said, speaking slowly as if to a child. âAnd I personally happen to agree with him.â
He saw the quick flash of exasperation that momentarily lit her face.
âIâve heard all this before and it makes no difference. I have to get back to Hong Kong.â
âIâm sorry,â he repeated, scraping back his chair to indicate that the interview was at an end. âI cannot help you, and even if I could there would be no way you could get a passage. Virtually all shipping is requisitioned by the Ministry of Transport. My advice is to resign yourself to remaining here until this wretched war ends, or else to put your energies into getting yourself to Australia, whence the other expatriates have been evacuated. And now â¦â
He extended his hand but she ignored it, pushing back her chair and rising. She was not a tall woman, five feet four inches at most, but her anger seemed to add inches to her stature.
âIâm sorry to have taken up so much of your time,â she said stiffly. â But I think I should give you fair warning that I intend to get back to Hong Kong. And if I cannot do it your way, then I will find another. Iâll go on and on until I drop if I must, but I promise you, Mr Langley, that I will succeed eventually.â
She turned abruptly so that the honey-gold hair swirled for a moment against the nape of her neck and he watched her stalk, straight-backed, out of the room.
What a woman! he thought. Totally blind to the realities of the situation. Yet for all his exasperation, he had to admit that there was something about her which commanded admiration. A fool she might be, but often enough in his clashes with her he had seen that she had spirit. And to fight as she was fighting for what she wanted, demanded more than a little courage.
Sighing, he mopped his brow once more and turned his attention to the pile of papers on his desk. Perhaps when this wretched war was over he would get a more congenial posting â always assuming that England emerged victorious, of course. At the moment, here in North Africa, things were looking good. But the news from other parts of the world was not so cheering. On reflection, perhaps Cairo was the most comfortable place to be at the moment, however unpleasant the climate, and it was high time the lovely but stubborn Mrs Sanderson came to the same conclusion.
When Elise marched out of the Embassy office, the flame of anger within her made it easy to keep her head high. How dare that stuffed shirt of a Vice-Consul talk to her as if she were a child? she asked herself furiously. How dare he patronise her and tell her what to do?
But out in the streets of Cairo, where the bright sunshine glanced off the white-painted buildings with a sharpness that hurt the eyes and the sky stretched clear and blue from horizon to horizon, desperation was once more predominant â spreading and gradually consuming the healing anger until she felt the whole of her body weighed down by it.
Her steps slowed, her feet leaden on the hot pavements, and in her throat a knot that she knew heralded tears threatened to choke her. With a small, characteristic grimace she swallowed at it; tears would do no good, although sometimes the temptation to give in to them was almost unbearable.
For four months now she had fought these wooden, emotionless bureaucrats. She might as well have battled with the Sphinx itself, for always, no matter how she argued and pleaded, the answer was the same: that women and children were being evacuated from
âI am sorry, Mrs Sanderson, but the Secretary of State for the Colonies still believes Hong Kong to be at risk,â he said, speaking slowly as if to a child. âAnd I personally happen to agree with him.â
He saw the quick flash of exasperation that momentarily lit her face.
âIâve heard all this before and it makes no difference. I have to get back to Hong Kong.â
âIâm sorry,â he repeated, scraping back his chair to indicate that the interview was at an end. âI cannot help you, and even if I could there would be no way you could get a passage. Virtually all shipping is requisitioned by the Ministry of Transport. My advice is to resign yourself to remaining here until this wretched war ends, or else to put your energies into getting yourself to Australia, whence the other expatriates have been evacuated. And now â¦â
He extended his hand but she ignored it, pushing back her chair and rising. She was not a tall woman, five feet four inches at most, but her anger seemed to add inches to her stature.
âIâm sorry to have taken up so much of your time,â she said stiffly. â But I think I should give you fair warning that I intend to get back to Hong Kong. And if I cannot do it your way, then I will find another. Iâll go on and on until I drop if I must, but I promise you, Mr Langley, that I will succeed eventually.â
She turned abruptly so that the honey-gold hair swirled for a moment against the nape of her neck and he watched her stalk, straight-backed, out of the room.
What a woman! he thought. Totally blind to the realities of the situation. Yet for all his exasperation, he had to admit that there was something about her which commanded admiration. A fool she might be, but often enough in his clashes with her he had seen that she had spirit. And to fight as she was fighting for what she wanted, demanded more than a little courage.
Sighing, he mopped his brow once more and turned his attention to the pile of papers on his desk. Perhaps when this wretched war was over he would get a more congenial posting â always assuming that England emerged victorious, of course. At the moment, here in North Africa, things were looking good. But the news from other parts of the world was not so cheering. On reflection, perhaps Cairo was the most comfortable place to be at the moment, however unpleasant the climate, and it was high time the lovely but stubborn Mrs Sanderson came to the same conclusion.
When Elise marched out of the Embassy office, the flame of anger within her made it easy to keep her head high. How dare that stuffed shirt of a Vice-Consul talk to her as if she were a child? she asked herself furiously. How dare he patronise her and tell her what to do?
But out in the streets of Cairo, where the bright sunshine glanced off the white-painted buildings with a sharpness that hurt the eyes and the sky stretched clear and blue from horizon to horizon, desperation was once more predominant â spreading and gradually consuming the healing anger until she felt the whole of her body weighed down by it.
Her steps slowed, her feet leaden on the hot pavements, and in her throat a knot that she knew heralded tears threatened to choke her. With a small, characteristic grimace she swallowed at it; tears would do no good, although sometimes the temptation to give in to them was almost unbearable.
For four months now she had fought these wooden, emotionless bureaucrats. She might as well have battled with the Sphinx itself, for always, no matter how she argued and pleaded, the answer was the same: that women and children were being evacuated from
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