Read The Sand Men Online

Authors: Christopher Fowler

Tags: #Horror

The Sand Men (6 page)

‘Well, you can assume that anything James told you was a lie. He’s a company weasel. He has no opinions of his own. So cheerful, so enthusiastic. He can brighten any room just by leaving it.’

Lea stifled a shocked laugh. ‘Listen, would you like to come in for some tea?’

‘Why not? That’s what we do around here, we drink buckets and buckets of tea until it’s time to start hammering the alcohol, which is any time past midday. At my age tea makes me piss like a horse every ten minutes but what the hell, I’ll accept a good strong Arabic coffee if you have it.’

Milo Melnik was small, stocky and sun-creased, with fine white hair and sharp blue eyes that seemed to be searching for signs of rebellion. In his baggy red cardigan and trousers pulled halfway up his chest, he reminded her of Mickey Rooney. Instantly drawn to him, she introduced herself and took him inside.

Lastri obediently appeared with cups and cinnamon date cake. ‘It’s shop-bought, I’m afraid,’ Lea apologised. ‘Our furniture only just turned up and I’ve been busy unpacking.’

‘At least you got Arabic food,’ he said. ‘Nobody does that here. They spend most of their time setting up little kingdoms and copying the recipes they used to have at home. Have you ever eaten something called Battenburg cake? I’m sure we never had it in Germany. Disgusting. The Americans and Australians are always hosting god-awful barbeques and the English are forever complaining that you can’t get a decent cup of tea.’

‘I won’t be doing that,’ said Lea. ‘I’m interested in Middle Eastern culture. I’d like to get involved, not hide away. Back in London I was a writer.’

‘I thought I recognised a kindred spirit. Please don’t turn into a little housewife like the rest of them. And don’t let them tell you they’ve got nothing better to do. There’s plenty to do. People arrive with good intentions but instead of being useful they spend their days creeping around the malls like ghosts, staring at all the stuff they don’t need. But what do I know, I’m an old man, there’s nothing in the malls for me.’

He seated himself in the kitchen’s only comfortable chair. ‘I was going to visit you yesterday but I saw old Busy-Body Busabi heading over here and thought I’d better stay out of the way. That woman makes my balls ache. Wait until you try her sponge cake, it’s like eating a cushion. How are you settling in?’

‘Everyone seems very nice.’

‘Bullshit, you thought you were making an entry into an earthly paradise, but you’re slowly finding out that you’ve landed in a snakepit.’

Lea laughed. ‘Well, let’s just say I’m not really interested in shopping and taking cookery courses.’

‘Hooray for that. It means we can be friends at least. It may not endear you to the other Stepford Wives, though.’

‘How do you fill your time, Milo?’

‘Haven’t you heard?’ He leaned forward and held his palm against his lips in a theatrical whisper. ‘I’m the nasty old man who frightens the children. I’m the fly in the ointment around here, a German Jew working in an Arab country. They look at me and ask themselves, how did that happen? I tell them it’s simple, I have no roots, I’ve outlived the rest of my family, I go wherever I damn well please and I say the things nobody is supposed to say. We’re all meant to toe the company line, even the retired ones.’

‘Well, I guess they’re paying for us all to be here.’

‘They!’ he exclaimed. ‘They! It used to be we, us. I was a founding member of the original project team. I started as a marine engineer, working on the concept of building on reclaimed seabeds. Several of us shared parallel ideas. But ideas aren’t enough. They have to be financed, monetised, packaged, so a new board of directors was formed. Needless to say, I didn’t make
that
team. They pay the UAE, they pay us all, and look what they get in return! Have you seen much of your husband since he started work?’

Lea’s smile fractionally faded. ‘He’s putting in long hours.’

‘You won’t see him at all from now on, and when you do he’ll be so exhausted he’ll just want to sleep.’ He sighed wearily. ‘We knew it would be hard, but it didn’t turn out as I’d imagined. Things never do.’

‘You sound disappointed.’

‘I would hate to become known as the grandfather of a project that’s a future watchword for all that’s wrong with the world. I’m not full-time anymore, they just come to me whenever they have a problem nobody else can fix. I guess you heard about some of those?’

‘Only what I read in the papers. The stories seem to have stopped now.’

‘That’s down to Davenport’s latest PR onslaught.’

‘I heard about the workman who froze to death.’

‘It’s the price we pay for leaping into the future.’

‘So everyone keeps telling me,’ said Lea. ‘The business district reminds me of the Emerald City. I keep expecting the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion to come dancing out of the bushes.’

‘That’s because it’s a fantasy. We’re trapped between Eastern and Western ideals. The Arabs don’t have to work. They have an Indian workforce triple the size of their own population. Do you know how many couples here meet for the first time just before their wedding? Is it surprising that when they come out of the mosques and see Western women in tiny bikinis, it offends them? They want tourists but they can’t pick who comes, except by raising prices.’

‘Britain is the same,’ said Lea, ‘only more secretive. Our government is stuffed with Old Etonians who don’t give a damn about the underprivileged.’

‘Good God, a woman with an opinion.’ Milo laughed. ‘You’ll have to be careful about that.’

‘I’m hoping to get a job here.’

‘I wish you the best of luck. Most of our magazines just print glossy guff about sporting events and fashion shows. There’s less moral outrage than in the other UAE countries, of course—you should try living in parts of Saudi Arabia, it’s still the Stone Age there—and here sometimes, just below the surface.’

‘What do you mean?’

Milo waved his hand airily. ‘Oh, raids take place and people go to prison. You never quite find out what’s going on. Everyone knows about the secret police. They had a perfectly workable system before the West arrived. Now they have a sort of polite totalitarian state. Hey, I don’t want to frighten you. I’m meant to be part of the welcoming committee.’

‘It’s a pleasure to find someone I can talk to,’ said Lea.

‘Let’s change the subject. How’s your daughter coping with the move? I assume that’s the pretty girl I see charging about on her bike.’

‘Cara seems to be taking to it well. Of course the weather’s still a novelty. She’s joined the computer club and is going to the beach. The kids at her London school were a pretty wild crowd, and she’s easily led. I didn’t want her getting into drink and drugs.’

‘There’s not too much chance of that happening,’ said Milo. ‘They don’t publicly whip offenders here like they do in Saudi, but arrests are made over tiny quantities of soft drugs and even over-the-counter medicines. In theory you can get a mandatory sentence for being in possession of flu medication. One guy was held after poppy seeds were found on his clothes. It turned out they had fallen off a bread roll he’d eaten at the airport.’

Lea’s eyes widened. ‘Is that for real?’

‘It was in the papers, it must be true.’

She couldn’t tell if he was joking. ‘Do you think Dream World will work?’

‘I don’t see why not. So long as people are rich and stupid enough to want novelties like underwater casinos and refrigerated shops selling fur coats. The Americans won’t come here and the Europeans are too broke, so it’s the turn of the Russians, the South Americans and the Chinese.’

‘That’s what Roy says. But what happens after that?’

‘My dear, there’ll be plenty of things to worry about before we reach that point,’ said Milo, sipping his coffee with a smile. ‘The road to democracy is filled with nasty surprises.’

‘I heard our predecessor got a nasty surprise right outside this house.’

Milo raised an eyebrow. ‘You mean Tom? Old Busabi
has
been busy. I was here the night he died.’

‘How did he manage to cut through a power cable?’

‘Nobody knows that he did. He’d certainly been using a fairly lethal electric saw to take out dead tree roots—the garden wasn’t like it is now. But he was found dead in the street. It was an odd thing—’

‘Why?’

‘Darling, it was
dark
. What the hell did he think he was playing at?’

‘What happened to his daughter?’ Lea instantly regretted asking the question.

Milo turned aside and made a fuss of checking his watch. ‘Look at the time, I must be getting on. It’s nearly noon—the safe hour.’

‘What do you mean?’

He pointed up to the ceiling. ‘The sun is directly overhead. There are no shadows at noon. Middle Eastern cultures believe that death hides in the shadows. You’re fine for now.’ He rose and made his way to the front door, turning to her. ‘Oh, don’t look so serious. Silly old men love to tease pretty women. But do one thing for me. Keep an eye on your daughter.’

His change of tone surprised her. ‘Why?’

Milo shrugged. ‘There’s an unhealthy lassitude that descends on rich people at the equator. The heat breeds strange notions.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘She has your looks. This is a place where the most primitive beliefs can suddenly resurface.’ He cut himself off. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be here to keep an eye on you.’

And with that he was gone.

 

 

Chapter Seven

The Next Doors

 

 

A
YELLOW SCHOOL
bus dropped Cara back at the entrance of Dream Ranches every day at five. On the afternoons that Lea took her car to the mall, she drove by the school and collected her daughter. The low white building that housed the classrooms sat in a perfect oblong of brilliant green lawn, surrounded by acres of beige rock and dust.

Cara stood waiting beneath a flat-topped acacia tree, whispering conspiratorially into her phone. Her pale skin had darkened to a permanent soft brown tan, her hair lightening to dirty blond, and regular immersion in seawater had thickened it. Ever since she had been small, she’d rubbed the knuckle of her thumb against her chin when she was stressed. Out here she had suddenly dropped the habit. Her new physicality had become readily apparent, and—shock of shocks—she had started using the school gym most mornings. Perhaps this was what she had needed all along.

‘You have to get a haircut,’ Lea said, pushing open the car door. ‘You’re starting to look like a surfer-chick.’

Cara got in. ‘I’m not going to catch a wave around here. The sea’s like glass.’

‘There’s surf at the Hilton Beach.’

‘It’s mechanical, it’s not the same. Can we take Norah with us?’ She pointed to a girl hanging back by the bushes. ‘She just needs to get to the Arabia Mall.’

‘Hi,’ said Lea, checking her rear-view mirror, ‘I’m Cara’s mother, Lea.’

Norah shot back a salute, two middle fingers from her eyebrow ring, but remained silent. She wore a black woollen cap and heavy black jeans, despite the heat, and went back to checking her emails.

‘Norah lives next door to us,’ said Cara. ‘She’s been away with her folks in America.’

‘I’m looking forward to meeting your family, Norah,’ said Lea.

‘Yeah.’ Norah continued texting, and didn’t look up again until they reached the underground car park at the mall. The girls climbed out.

‘Well,’ said Lea, ‘it was nice meeting you.’ But Norah had already gone, loping toward the elevator bank with Cara in her wake. ‘Bye, then,’ she said to herself.
So Norah’s the cool new pal she can’t tear herself away from
, she thought.
I guess they find more to talk about when I’m not there.

The next morning at 11:00am on the dot, Lea opened her front door to a tall, burnished blonde in her mid-forties, too studiedly thin, with a turned-up nose and a smile that revealed a palisade of artificially whitened teeth.

‘I hear you met my oldest daughter yesterday,’ she said, stepping inside without waiting to be invited, ‘We’re the Next Doors. I’m Colette Larvin. I thought I should drop by and apologise for her. Not that I suppose she said anything.’

‘She was probably shy,’ Lea suggested, as Lastri once more scurried off to begin the mid-morning ritual of setting out coffee and cake.

Colette recognized the remark as politeness and waved it aside. ‘You couldn’t shut her up when she was small. Then she hit her teen years and turned into a deaf-mute. Occasionally I manage to starve her into conversation. Stopping her privileges works too. Sometimes I hide her laptop charger.’

‘Mine’s the same.’

‘Seems like they’re already great friends. What are you doing here?’

‘Oh, I’m—what do they call it?—trailing…’

‘Trailing spouse. Me too. Ben is one of the DWG planners. He specialises in electronics, how to fit them into buildings. I think he’s going to be working with your husband. Something about marble—ring any bells?’

‘Believe me, I’ve heard all about it.’

Colette flopped down onto the couch. ‘We’re so sorry we missed your arrival. I’d have been here with the welcome wagon. We were visiting my family in Columbus. But don’t worry, you’ll hear us now we’re back. Rachel’s a little deaf and tends to shout. Don’t mention it, though, because she’s convinced nobody notices.’

‘Rachel’s your other daughter?’

‘No, That’s Abbi. Rachel is my mother-in-law. She insisted on coming out with us to look after the children, but she hates the sun.’

‘So the company paid for all five of you to come here?’

Colette laughed. ‘They must value Ben’s ability to get the job done. He’s putting in crazy hours, shedding weight, going grey, stressed to the max, although weirdly he’s looking kind of hot these days. If this keeps up I’ll be pestering him for sex.’

‘It seems like they have a pretty big responsibility.’

‘Tell me about it. Dream World starts losing around seven million dollars each day it goes past the opening deadline.’

Lastri’s strong coffee and Arabic cakes appeared, set out in their usual place. Lea checked her watch and noticed that she was setting it out at exactly the same time every morning. Clearly the neighbours knew how the system worked and arrived accordingly, subconsciously controlled by their maids and gardeners.

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