The Gilgamesh Conspiracy by Jeffrey Fleming Read Free Book Online

asked.
    ‘Ok, she told me she was twenty. She thought I was some rich guy from the Gulf. It’s hard to tell with English women; you know… how old they are.’
    They both thought back over the last year they had lived in England, and their struggle to bridge the cultural chasm. It had been less difficult for Omar accustomed to the more cosmopolitan society of Cairo, whereas for many years Baghdad had been more or less cut off from the rest of the world.
    At the Thames Embankment they joined the throng that jostled towards Piccadilly Circus and thence to Hyde Park. The turn-out was vast, and progress was slow. They joined a group of fellow Arabs who were chanting in Arabic and it felt good to let rip with the colourful language of the street and the souk against Blair and Bush. As they pranced about Rashid caught sight of the woman in the red coat and felt strangely embarrassed at his outburst of youthful exuberance. She caught his eye and gave a little wave, as if to say that she supported the message in their chanting. After a while he and Omar decided that this group was going too slowly; they hurried towards Hyde Park to hear the speeches.
    The mood in the park was intense, but good natured. Rashid recognised the speaker as an MP, George Galloway, who had visited Iraq. Perhaps his father had been his interpreter for the visit and Rashid imagined he would have enjoyed the challenge of the MP’s strongly accented English. Omar gave him a nudge.
    ‘I’m going to meet my cousin now. Are you sure you’re not going to stay the night in London as well?’
    ‘No thanks,’ Rashid replied, ‘I’m going to get home to finish that essay.’ He did not really like Omar’s cousin, a lively young woman who could have graced an ancient Egyptian wall painting. She was a year older than he was and slightly condescending about his lack of European social finesse. ‘I’ll see you when you get back tomorrow evening. Give her my regards, though.’
    They shook hands and Rashid watched Omar push his way back through the crowd. Off to one side he glimpsed the woman in the red coat again; she seemed to be listening intently to the speech, but then he realised that she was talking into her mobile phone. He turned back towards the stage. Half a minute later he was surprised to find her standing next to him.
    ‘Hello, me again,’ she said with a smile. He was somewhat tongue tied and before he could think of an appropriate greeting she continued. ‘Can you remember what time our coach is due to leave? I’m a bit worried I’m going to miss it.’
    Rashid glanced down at his watch the way people do whenever a question of time arises. ‘I think it’s at four thirty,’ he said.
    ‘Oh I thought maybe it was four o’clock. I couldn’t remember what Simon said.’
    ‘Is that the guy you were talking to?’ Rashid asked, looking around for the missing lecturer.
    ‘Yes. He’s gone off to visit his mum in Sutton. He’s not coming back until tomorrow. Where’s your friend?’
    ‘Oh, Omar’s gone to stay with his cousin tonight. He’s not coming back on the coach either.’
    The woman nodded and then looked at her watch. ‘I’m going to head off now, I think; it could take a while to get back to where it’s parked. There must be a million people here at least. Bye now.’ She gave him a warm smile and turned away. Rashid hesitated for two seconds, and then took a couple of quick paces to catch up with her.
    ‘Look; do you mind if I go with you? I think you’re right about the time and I’m not sure of the way.’
    ‘Yes, glad to have you along. Oh, my names Sandra, by the way. I’m doing a post-grad in Middle Eastern studies.’
    ‘My name’s Rashid; I’m a second year English student.’
    ‘I am pleased to meet you, Rashid,’ she said to him in Arabic, and he grinned happily at her, but he wished that she was not five or six centimetres taller than him as he felt somewhat at a disadvantage. 
    During the walk back to