‘In Egypt, Britain’s generals have been playing at war. While here they fluster about pretending that Europeans or Arabs or whoever are making ready to attack. Bored generals can be dangerous men.’
‘I’m not sure I follow, Mam,’ Anastasia said. ‘What do armies on the other side of the world have to do with us?’
Rosalie tightened her shawl around her shoulders. They were in for a cold night. ‘Bored generals hound our footsteps, practising their rapier skills on our backs, dispensing orders that hang us, battling for hills and valleys as if their flags speared into the earth gives them ownership.’ Rosalie watched the street below from the balcony. Two men leant against the iron fence, talking and watching, smoking. One had a newspaper curled under his arm, the other a lunch pail. They finis
