Sleeping With The Enemy by Colin Falconer

Author:Colin Falconer [Falconer, Colin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction, Religion
Publisher: Skyveiw Publishing
Published: 2017-05-13T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 30

A HOT MORNING, a white sun leaching the pink from the stone walls of the Old City and the blue from the sky. Henry Talbot squinted against the glare while his chauffeur tried to negotiate the traffic below the Jaffa Gate. He looked at his watch. He had an appointment inside the British Security Zone in the western city at four o’clock. At this rate, he was going to be late.

“Hurry it up, Moussa,” he said, though it was clear there was little Moussa could do except punch the horn even more frequently.

Ahead of them the blunted spear of David’s Tower rose into the sky from the citadel, piercing the haze of traffic fumes. Their Rover came to a complete stop. The braying of horns rose to a crescendo, almost drowning out the faint but unmistakable crack of distant gunfire.

An ancient lorry was stalled in front of them blocking their view of the road.

Talbot leaned forward. “Moussa, what’s going on?”

Moussa shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, Talbot effendi.” He tried to steer around the lorry but it was impossible. Traffic streamed away from the Gate, completely blocking the way forward. A donkey cart tried to manoeuvre around a taxi and crashed into a fruit stall, spilling grapes and figs all over the road. An old Arab ran past pushing a bicycle, shouting something about the Jews.

“Wait here,” Talbot said to Moussa, though the instruction was unnecessary. Moussa could not move the car in any direction now.

Talbot ran ahead. A little Jew in a dark suit and a homburg crashed into him and sent him reeling back against the side of a truck. More people rushed past; Arabs, Jews, women carrying screaming children, all shouting hysterically. An Arab taxi, horn blaring, tried to bulldoze a way through the mob. An Arab woman in a black abbayah fell screaming under its wheels.

What in heaven’s name was happening?

A silver Egged bus, the number 2 service from New Jerusalem to the Old City, was stalled in the centre of the square, opposite the tall pillars of Jaffa Gate. A mob of Arabs blocked its path, some of them armed with rifles. All the bus windows had been smashed and blood seeped under the door on the driver’s side and formed a widening pool on the road.

“Mother of God,” Talbot whispered under his breath.

A British jeep and an armoured car were parked on the other side of the square, near Bethlehem Road. The commanding officer was leaning on the windshield of the jeep, watching.

Why doesn’t he stop this? Talbot thought.

There was a burst of gunfire from the bus. Perhaps some Haganah had smuggled pistols on board. Whatever weapons they had, it would almost certainly not be enough to keep the Arabs back for long.

He ran across the square to the British patrol. He realised he knew the red-bereted officer in the jeep.

It was Chisholm.

“I’d get down if I were you, old son,” Chisholm said to him. “This isn’t the place for pen-pushers.”

“For Christ’s sake,

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