Later on, we had supper at our hotel and, even though I don’t usually like sardines much, when they are freshly caught and cooked on a hot grill they are pretty perfect served with couscous and a sauce of fragrant herbs.
At last we reached our holiday destination of Mogador after our days of travelling and visiting all those interesting places along the way. It was quite a relief not to be spending hours in the hot car and to be able to unpack properly, knowing we’d be staying at our nice hotel for the next ten days. I was pleased to discover that the bedroom Annette and I were sharing had two beds and zero scorpions.
The thing Mogador is very famous for is its fresh air. There’s a wind called the alizé which blows constantly on to the broad, sandy bay that forms the main beach. It makes the temperature here very pleasant and refreshing, not like the chergui. Luckily, too, there’s a handful of little islands just offshore, which provide shelter from the ocean currents so the waves are smaller than those on the wilder beaches at Casablanca, making Mogador a perfect resort for sea bathing.
It was also nice not to have to do any schoolwork for a while as there would be plenty of time later on to sketch the Portuguese fortress and write my notes. But little did we know, as we enjoyed our seaside holiday, just how important my schoolwork was about to become.
We’d spent several days relaxing under a big umbrella on the beach, swimming in the sea and watching the other holidaymakers enjoying themselves too. It was easy to forget there was still a war on, apart from spotting one or two German army trucks on the streets. I imagine life will be like this all the time when we get to America – carefree days filled with pleasant views, ice creams and Coca-Cola. I was pleased to see Maman looking happier and more relaxed than she’s been since we left Paris. I think the sea air and sunshine did us all good. There were dances at one of the bigger hotels every night, which Annette enjoyed, even if I found them a bit boring. I wished Nina and Felix had been there. We would have laughed at the serious young men with their oiled-back hair and stiff shirt collars who came over to ask Annette to dance. At least it stopped her pining for Olivier for a few hours. She made friends with a girl called Géraldine, who had scarlet fingernails that matched the equally scarlet lipstick she wore. Later on, Géraldine joined us under our umbrella on the beach a few times and she talked non-stop about her beau, Cédric, who had departed for America a few weeks ago. I glared at her a couple of times from beneath the brim of my sunhat as I was trying to read my book （Murder Must Advertise, by Dorothy L. Sayers, which is one of her very best, in my opinion）， but she and Annette were too busy comparing the merits of their respective boyfriends to notice. I think Papa was getting a bit bored of the beach by that time （or maybe he, too, was finding all the talk of the wonderful Olivier and Cédric rather tedious）， because he went for a long walk along the sand and when he came back he suggested to me that we should go and visit the Portuguese fortress later on in the afternoon once he and Maman had had their siesta at the hotel, so that I could complete my schoolwork. The girls wanted to go shopping for souvenirs and Maman said she’d accompany them, so I was looking forward to having a peaceful hour or two with just Papa.
Down by the harbour, the salty air and constant scouring of the wind had eaten away at the stones of the fortifications over the years, softening the edges a little, but they still looked good and solid, with cannons sitting in the crenellations all the way along their length, pointing out to sea. It was an impressive sight. Those Portuguese invaders knew a thing or two about defending themselves, so it shows how fierce the Berbers must have been if they still managed to drive them out in the end.
Papa and I strolled along the ramparts, enjoying the breeze and the seagulls swooping above our heads. We didn’t talk much – I think we were both quite relieved to have a break from the inane chattering of Géraldine and Annette – and every now and then we’d pause to jot down a few notes. I was sketching the ancient fortress with its turrets, which overlooks the entrance to the harbour, and Papa had wandered on a little way when I became aware that two men in dark blue police uniforms had approached him. I could see that he smiled pleasantly at them at first. I also noticed that he slipped his notebook back into his jacket pocket in a very relaxed manner. But the manner of the two men wasn’t very relaxed at all. In fact they looked pretty angry and then they suddenly pushed him up against the wall and it looked as if they were demanding something from him.