"Do you hate the Arabs?" The voice sounds bored, it seems to be a routine question.
"No," I say.
I notice immediately that I have made a mistake. Silence falls on the room. I curse myself. Why didn’t I just say that I hate the Arabs? They are not going to take me now!
"And the British, do you hate them?"
"No!" I answer automatically. Now everything is lost. I can feel that the people on the other side of the table are looking at me with pity. Like a cripple with an important part of the body missing.
They cross-question me. I try and explain my half-baked thoughts. The British should be expelled. And the Arab Effendis too. Then we could come to an agreement with the ordinary Arabs and found a state together with them. I stutter, stumble over my words, despise myself. After half an hour they let me go. I feel like a wrung-out rag.
The next morning a dark-haired girl appears in my office and gives me a piece of paper. "Next Sunday, at twenty hours zero-zero, you are to appear at the usual location, neatly dressed. Password: Rosh Pina."
* * *
Sabbath eve. Quarter to eight. I am strolling along Allenby Street with Rivka. I am wearing the only good suit that I possess - the result of half a year’s saving. And I am wearing a tie for the first time. Rivka is the same age as me, fifteen. She is wearing lipstick for the first time. She is carrying a small parcel under her arm, wrapped in brown paper.
My heart is beating fast. It is my first real operation. I am afraid, but I put on a face like a movie hero to impress Rivka.
We are standing next to Witmann’s kiosk. The hands of the big clock on the other side of the street move awfully slowly. A fat man with a red face walks past us and examines me closely. For a moment I think of Wilkins, the famous inspector that everyone is talking about. Thank God he goes away. Youths in blue shirts1 are pushing and shoving around the ice cream stands. Maybe members of the Haganah?2
I try to calm my nerves. We were told that there would be armed adults around, in order - if necessary - to protect us. The awful