CHAPTER 34
That evening, Greg was adjusting the blanket over Dalia’s legs when the front doorbell rang.
He checked his watch. No one ever called at this hour, not even the one called Akram, who always left the gate open. He hadn’t seen Akram for a while, but nevertheless, a feeling of dread spread through Greg’s nerves because 7:30 p.m. at 18 Lansdowne Road was the time for quiet, uninterrupted domestic matters.
While Dalia sat staring at the TV, Greg read old books on history he bought at the second-hand book shop on Whitney Avenue after the visits to the hospital. He would park in the disabled space outside, check that Dalia was settled in the wheelchair, and spend ten minutes browsing the history section. It was never long enough, but that was all he could spare.
Today, he’d bought Fateful Triangle by Noam Chomsky but knew he would become agitated by Chomsky’s opinions. He put the book down and carefully drew the living room curtain aside. There was a small blue car parked on the road under the street light, but it wasn’t the one Akram used. The automatic porch light had come on, but all he could see was a shadow. He spoke to Dalia, “There’s someone at the door, Herach. I shan’t be a moment.”
When Greg opened it on the chain, a round face peered through from the other side and smiled at him. “Mr. Samoszewski? Sorry to bother you. It’s Roger Smith. We met at the hospital.”
Greg sniffed. “Oh . . . yes,” he said.
“Do you have a few minutes to spare?”
“What is it?”
“It’s about a young friend of mine called Kevin. He calls here sometimes to make deliveries. Kevin has a big problem, Mr. Samoszewski.”
Greg continued to peer at Roger through the crack in the door, so Roger added, “He is only a young man. I wondered if you could help him.”
The door opened a fraction more. “Does the name Khan or Faisal World Travel mean anything, sir?”
Greg still said nothing.
“You see,” Roger continued, “Kevin thinks that you also have a problem with Mr. Khan. Not to put too fine a point on it, Mr. Samoszewski, threats and blackmail seem to form part of the way Khan and his friends conduct their business. Kevin’s mum has been threatened and abused for years by Khan and others. She is even threatened if Kevin does not do as he’s told. It’s a tragic situation, Mr. Samoszewski. Would you not agree?”
“Yes,” Greg said quietly. “Fear is a terrible thing, but what can I do?”
“Mr. Samoszewski, when you told me that you called your wife Herach, it reminded me of an old Polish friend Jack Hassenfeld. Once, some years ago, when I told Jack that my wife, Madge, had cancer, he not only gave me a bunch of flowers for her but also told me a Jewish proverb that I have never forgotten. It is why I have come here to talk to you.”
The chain on the door was released, the door opened slowly, and Greg stood there in his grey V-necked jumper, white shirt, tie, and the grey trousers with the blue stain at the knee. “What was the proverb?”
“There are three things that mark out a Jew—Jack told me—a tender heart, self-respect, and charity.”
Greg nodded, as if he’d heard it.
“He also told me another that I still remember,” Roger continued. “Perhaps you know it? ‘I ask not for a lighter burden but for broader shoulders.’”
“Yes,” Greg said, smoothing his pale face with bony fingers. “This boy Kevin. Is he with you?”
“Not at the moment, Mr. Samoszewski. I thought I’d come alone. But I think he’d like to talk to you. And he won’t bite, Mr. Samoszewski. I sometimes think he’s too naive to be dangerous.”
“My wife and I do not have many visitors, Mr. Smith,” Greg said. “But please come in.”