Free The Mandelbaum Gate by Muriel Spark Page A

the set, were by no means
comparable to the mass-produced figures obtainable from the surrounding shops,
on all days but Fridays, for a pound the set or eighteen shillings after the
argument. Freddy, newly relaxed after the glare, smells and sticky heat of his
plod from the border station, was prompted by a nervous reflex to intervene in
the argument, and, much as the timid spinsters of the old days, while abroad,
would be moved to violence against the maltreater of the donkey, Freddy now
stood up. ‘Madam,’ he said, to his own astonishment, ‘I can vouch for the fact
that those articles are what Mr Alexandros says they are, that is to say,
hand-carved from pinewood. This shop, as he says, stocks only superior curios.’
He sat down again. His Turkish coffee arrived and was placed before him.
    The
woman looked at Freddy in a reserved way; she could see that he was at home in
the shop. Freddy realized she was more suspicious than ever. His irritation by
her doubts of his Alexandros was increased by the fact that this fat
Englishwoman was only a passing tourist and he was more or less a resident; and
there had been nothing more annoying to Freddy throughout all his postings in
the Foreign Service than the sight of his compatriots making mistakes while
passing through.
    Alexandros,
delighted by Freddy’s remark, was saying in a triumphant wail, ‘You hear what
this gentleman tells you, Madam. This gentleman is Mr Hamilton, a very high
officer of the British Government. He is my customer. He comes to Alexandros
regular.’
    Freddy
murmured, ‘Perhaps the lady really wishes to think it over, Alexandros.’
    The
woman indicated, by picking up her gloves, that she was about to take advantage
of this offer. But Alexandros spread out his hands and said, ‘Madam, this crib
— look at the three Kings, how beautiful, and the camels, they are alive, and
Saint Joseph here. The workmanship. You have it for the sake of your family,
Madam. They will say, in the next generation, “This was when the Mama went to
the Holy Land! She bought this set for the Epiphany crib!”‘
    The
woman seemed to waver at this. Then she said: ‘I’ll think it over and let you
know in the morning.’
    ‘It is
the last. It will go by morning. When the procession is finished the people
come in to Alexandros. Alexandros does not close his shop on a Friday, like the
Moslems.’
    ‘I’ll
ask my travel agent here. He advises me what to buy and where to go. Thank you.’
    Alexandros
followed her to the door. ‘Who is the travel agent?’
    ‘Ramdez.
I’ll ask him.’
    Alexandros
let her go, then. He came and sat beside Freddy. We can have a talk now.’ He
seemed to have forgotten the woman. Freddy said, ‘I mustn’t stop. I’ve got some
correspondence to attend to when I get to the Cartwrights’. I expect your customer
will come back for that crib-set. It’s handsome.’
    ‘Not if
she follows advice from Ramdez. Travel agent, yes, he is agent for all the
curio-shops, he gets his share from them all. But he is not agent for
Alexandros.’
    ‘I know
Ramdez,’ Freddy said. ‘And I know his son Abdul over in Israel, he’s teaching
me Arabic.’
    ‘The
son is political for his living,’ said Alexandros quietly.
    ‘Oh,
really? I thought young Abdul represented a life-insurance company.’
    ‘Yes,
like the father. The father is agent for everything.’
    ‘Ramdez
wants me to take out a policy. At least that’s what they say that they’re after
me for.’
    ‘Which
Ramdez? The father or the son?’
    ‘Well,
both together, actually. They manage to communicate, I don’t know how. Anyway,
whenever I come over here, old Ramdez turns up with news of Abdul. And when I
get back there, Abdul turns up with the latest information from his father. I
understand they don’t get on very well together.’
    Alexandros
laughed with Freddy. He took a bunch of keys from his pocket and opened a
drawer, from which he took another key. With this he opened a glass