The Automobile Club of Egypt

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My wife finally understood that I needed some time on my own…

I left her the big car and the driver so that she would be able to get around with the kids. I drove the smaller car to our chalet on the north coast, a three-hour drive alone with my thoughts and the voice of Umm Kulthum streaming from the cassette deck. At the gate, the security man checked my papers. In winter the resort management stepped up their security to prevent burglaries. A cool, refreshing breeze blew in from the sea. The place was completely empty and had the air of a fairy-tale town whose inhabitants had fled. All the chalets were locked and the streets deserted except for the lampposts. I drove past the main square and then turned up the street leading to our chalet. A new Japanese car suddenly appeared, driven by a man in his fifties and with a beautiful woman somewhat younger in the passenger seat. As they overtook me, I looked over at them…they must be lovers, come to the resort to get away from prying eyes. That had to be it. For such blushing languor and loving serenity are not typical of married life. The door of the chalet squeaked as I opened it. I followed my wife’s instructions to the letter. I started by opening the windows, plugging in the fridge and removing the covers from the furniture. Then I took a hot shower and went into the bedroom to unpack and hang up my clothes. I prepared my seat in the sitting room next to the balcony. I telephoned to order food from the only place open in winter, and perhaps owing to the sea air wolfed down the food and nodded off. By the time I woke up, night had already fallen. I looked out from the balcony at the empty resort. It was dark except for the strip of lampposts. I felt a little strange and then a worry came to my mind:

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