This charming
photograph of the Sarawat Mountains near Kkamis Mushayt is by Wajahatmr.
A good friend of
mine Dave introduced Karen to the flight line personnel where she became an
honorary member in a social context and as I mentioned earlier well guarded by
them. It was odd that when they threw a party one of them would bring her home,
have a coffee with us, and then Karen would creep back to the party and repeat
the process with another of them. Most times it would be repeated at least
twice and I’m pretty sure nothing untoward happened during these trips home. It
occurred even when she did form a deeper attachment to an English teacher called
Fred but Fred was always the last to bring her home. It did however fail when a
junior manager joined the party and told Karen he would take her home, she felt
threatened by him and refused. The next morning there was a complaint about her
behaviour. I was called before the Base Manager and told that if she was to
remain with us she would have to be accompanied at all times, there were some
other restrictions which I can’t recall now but I was pretty mad at the time.
On thinking about it I am fairly sure the junior manager had lied out of spite,
he was not generally liked, which had put the Base Manager in a bind. A young
girl of the wrong sort could cause a lot of grief for the organization. However
he didn’t know Karen and had not researched the allegation but I’m afraid he
was typical of much of the BAC management. Shortly after both managers were
moved to Riyadh, fortunate, but nothing to do with Karen or me. The new Base
Manager I got to know well, his wife played tennis with Syb and joined the camera
club I ran. He had more of the management style I was use to and I respected
him and his wife.
It was difficult
for a blond European young girl in Saudi Arabia during that period. At one time
an Arab not known to us or our Saudi friends approached Karen as she walked
back to our villa and offered her money. He didn’t speak any English but she
got the picture. He was most insistent and the money was offering her kept
growing until she was tired of using polite refusals and lost her temper. She
turned on him and at the top of her voice yelled “Why don’t you f**k off?” He
fled never to be seen again. Not many of my Arab friends met her Mohammed and
the tea party were an exception. She was often seen in the town and aware of
how to mix with the locals no doubt some of them were the trainee who knew me
from the base.
It was after about
six months my family had settled in and was enjoying all that Khamis offered,
that a rumour went round the company that an American firm were to take over
Khamis base along with their aircraft and a Saudi workforce. If true it meant
that we would be moving to Tabuk this had been on the cards for so long that no
one believed it any more.
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