Song of the Nile

by Fielding, Hannah

  The voice of the Bedouin was harsh and raucous. ‘I thought you might like to acquire something of value, something almost without price.’

  ‘You’re not trying to sell me some trash, like those scarabs you make by the thousand?’

  ‘No, no! Believe me, I know you well enough now, master, not to sell such rubbish. I have the genuine objects. Funeral furniture, magnificently painted. Jewels of the dead … even a mummy, if you want it.’

  Aida’s heart sank.

  ‘Have you been robbing a museum?’

  Aida could not hear the Bedouin’s answer. She was trembling from head to toe. Could it be possible? Phares was engaged in the trading of antiquities? No, it couldn’t be! Not Phares. Yet here he was, meeting with a Bedouin in the dead of night, talking about buying stolen antiquities. The horror of such a thought overrode any other emotion she had been feeling. What was her jealousy compared with what she was witnessing?

  ‘So, it’s come to this,’ Aida heard Phares murmur.

  ‘By Allah …’ Again, she couldn’t hear the remainder of the Bedouin’s phrase.

  ‘Show me what you have there.’

  There was silence, then she heard Phares’s voice again. ‘Indeed, this is a beautiful piece you have here. What’s it worth to you?’

  ‘Let us say, master, it is worth the pleasure of dealing with you. I shall be honoured if you will accept it as a token of my loyalty to you.’

  ‘Min gheer laff wa dawaran, without twists and turns, how much?’ Phares rasped.

  ‘For you, master, two hundred and fifty Egyptian pounds,’ the Bedouin answered in the most dulcet of tones. ‘Would you like me to bring you everything I have?’

  ‘I would prefer you to take me to your shop, or rather, your main hiding place. I need to see everything. I have many European clients.’

  The man laughed. ‘Laa, no, master. That would be very imprudent of me. Retribution would be swift. El Kébir would either throw me to the wolves in the gebel, desert mountains, or burn me alive, leaving my body in the desert for the vultures to pick at, so that none shall know to whom my dishonoured bones belong. As we say, Ya nahla la tuqrusni wala ayiz minnik asal, oh bee, don’t sting me and I don’t want your honey. Discretion is all.’

  ‘So, you are part of El Kébir’s men, are you?’

  ‘We are all part of the Kébir’s men. Who would dare go into competition with the emperor of antiquities?’ The man laughed again, this time mockingly. ‘Two water melons can’t be carried in one hand. One mustn’t attempt the impossible. Life is too precious, master.’

  ‘I would like to meet the Kébir, do business on a bigger scale.’

  The Bedouin gave a grunt. ‘Many want to meet the Kébir, but to my knowledge, no one has been able to approach him … Only a very small number know his identity. Trust me, master, that’s a bad idea. We say Ib’id’an ash-sharr wa ghanii lu, keep away from trouble and sing to it. Why trouble trouble before it troubles you?’

  ‘I see you are full of hikam, wise words, tonight.’

  ‘He who has been scalded by soup, blows on yoghurt.’

  Phares gave a rough laugh. ‘All right, all right!’ Then he added severely, ‘Go now, don’t get in touch with me unless I send for you.’

  ‘Mafhoom, understood. Salam, ya Bey.’

  The door opened and a shaft of light appeared on the threshold. Aida made herself as small as she could by crouching behind one of the shrubs that ran along the wall of the cottage as the Bedouin came out, disappearing stealthily into the darkness like a flitting ghost.

  Silence lay over the garden. For a moment Aida stood frozen in the darkness. She would have given all she possessed for the power to blot from her mind – from her life – the conversation she had just heard. Then a big owl floated from one tamarisk tree to another and its hooting call woke her to the need to be gone before Phares should come out of the cottage. She had no time to lose if she was to get back to Hathor before him.

  The blood coursed madly in her veins. As she ran, thoughts tumbled round her fevered head. She understood the significance of what she had witnessed tonight, and there was something so unexpected, so dreadful, about this revelation.

  Time after time, everything she had thought to be true had been turned on its head. She was like a woman in a dream, the denizen of some strange unreal world where the light of the sun and the darkness of midnight were indistinguishable.

  Her pride in her kind, wonderful husband, her reverential love for this man whom she admired so profoundly, her respect for the doctor who saved lives daily … all were swept away, proved a hollow sham. How could she have been so deceived? None of it made sense.

  She smothered a sob. Now the agony of full realisation stabbed her very soul. I shall die if I stay in this house any longer! I must get out – get away from all this treachery … She had to leave … get far away from Phares and the tangled web of deception he had woven. Still, she must not be impulsive, she would bide her time and maybe ask for Alastair Carlisle’s help.

  She reached home as cautiously as she had left it barely an hour before, disrobing quickly and crawling into bed. Phares must not know what she had stumbled upon.

  Suddenly she thought of the life growing inside her and with it came a tremendous sense of vulnerability. Phares’s image came sharply into focus: haunting, taunting her with what they’d shared together. The excitement, the ecstasy … and her wantonness to experience it again, and again. She’d never experienced this depth of emotion before, nor felt so emotionally and mentally attuned to anyone. She wanted to rage against fate for being so unkind. And yet, even with everything she knew now, she still loved him.

  She would not tell him about the pregnancy but would leave for England for good. He must never suspect her condition, never know her plans, for in Egypt the law precluded a woman from leaving the country without the consent of her father if she were unmarried, or her husband if she were married. Although she also had a British passport, Phares could stop her from leaving with the excuse that she was carrying his child.

  As a single mother in England, what would be her fate? Divorce was frowned upon almost as much as in Egypt. She could always say she was a widow. Again, she thought of Alastair Carlisle – he would know what to do.

  Phares came in just before dawn. Aida was awake when he slipped into bed beside her and took her in his arms. He would often reach for her in the middle of the night, just like this, and they would sleep cocooned together. Now her body reacted to the warmth of him, although his hands and feet were cold. But she didn’t move as she usually did, pressing herself against him to feel more of him. She just lay there, eyes closed, agonising – her body and heart fighting with her mind.

  Phares buried his face in her hair and neck. ‘I love you,’ he whispered. ‘I love you … Never doubt it, chérie.’

  Tears welled in Aida’s closed eyes and as they ran down her cheeks, she was grateful for the darkness that shielded her misery.

  * * *

  A few days later, Aida sat in Alastair Carlisle’s office waiting for him. She hadn’t made an appointment, but when she had told his secretary who she was and that she wanted to see him on an urgent matter, the young assistant agreed to fit her into his schedule.

  The day before, Phares had told Aida that he was leaving for Assiut and that he wouldn’t be back for a week. After the night at the cottage, she had managed to hide her distress from him and when he had been surprised at her reluctance to make love, she had told him she had some sort of intestinal bug – not uncommon in Egypt, especially during the summer months. As soon as he’d left, she reserved a seat on the early plane to Cairo.

  Alastair breezed into the room and on seeing her, a huge smile lit up his face.

  ‘Aida, my dear, what a wonderful surprise!’ he exclaimed as he put down his briefcase and greeted her with outstretched hands. ‘I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting, but something’s come up and we’ve been at sixes and sevens since yesterday. Most of
the staff are away during the summer months and everything is in chaos.’ He stopped suddenly and glanced at her with a slight frown. ‘You look a little peaky. All well with you? How is that charming husband of yours?’

  Aida ignored the last question and sighed. ‘Well, I really don’t know where to begin. I need your help, Alastair.’

  ‘Before we start, will you join me in a glass of lemonade? It’s such a hot day, and Ismail whips up a jolly good one here at the Embassy.’

  Aida smiled graciously. ‘I’d love a glass, thank you.’

  After a quick word with his secretary, Alastair took his seat behind the large mahogany desk. ‘So, young lady, what can I do for you?’

  ‘I want to leave for England.’

  ‘I don’t see any problem. There are planes to London every day, no restrictions on people travelling.’

  Aida fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair. ‘I want to leave in the next few days and I don’t think Phares will give me permission. As you know, the laws in Egypt require a wife to have her husband’s approval to leave the country.’

  His fair eyebrows lowered over assessing eyes. ‘I don’t see why he wouldn’t let you go. After all, you have family there.’

  ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘Look here, Aida, Phares is a good friend of mine. I don’t understand what the problem is, but I can talk to him if you like.’

  Suddenly panicked, Aida shook her head vigorously. ‘No, no, please don’t breathe a word of this.’

  Ismail brought in the lemonades and left them on the table.

  ‘Shukran.’ When the man had left the room, Alastair leaned over his desk towards Aida, who had lowered her head, her throat burning, doing her best to control her emotions. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me here. I don’t wish to pry, but if you want me to help you, I also need to know what’s going on.’

  At that, she dissolved into tears.

  He stood up and came around to her, perching on the edge of his desk. ‘Come now, it can’t be that bad.’

  ‘It’s terrible … terrible!’ she sobbed.

  ‘Will you tell me about it?’

  Aida pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes. ‘I’m pregnant.’

  ‘But that’s a wonderful thing. Doesn’t Phares want the child, or is it you who doesn’t want it? Maybe a little early still to get bogged down with children?’

  ‘No, no, I do want it … but … but … I haven’t told Phares,’ she hiccupped.

  The consul looked at her kindly. ‘I’m sure he’ll be delighted.’

  Aida shook her head again in desperation. How could she explain the situation without landing Phares in it? Suddenly, she remembered their conversation at Princess Nazek’s charity ball. The consul had mentioned the trafficking of antiquities … and ironically, he was shadowing the wrong man, Aida thought bitterly. How could she tell him what she had witnessed without accusing her husband of being a thief and a smuggler?

  Aida stood up. ‘I’m sorry, Alastair. I shouldn’t have come, I was wrong. Don’t worry, I’ll sort things out,’ she said, wiping her tears and starting towards the door.

  The consul laid a hand on her arm gently. ‘Sit down, old girl, and let’s talk about this calmly. You’ve worried me now and I can’t let you go in this state. Phares would never forgive me.’

  Aida hesitated before taking her seat again. ‘He’s gone off somewhere on business for a few days … who knows with whom,’ she added, hoping that Alastair would think all this was about another woman.

  Better he thought that than the truth.

  ‘Is that what’s upsetting you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I know Phares very well, my dear. I’ll be honest now, as I can only guess what has made you upset. I’m quite certain he’s not playing the field, if that’s what’s worrying you. He was like a madman when he thought you were in danger after your little jaunt into the desert.’

  Her shoulders sagged. ‘He disappears at night.’

  Alastair looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘He’s a doctor, he’s bound to be called out at all hours.’

  Aida played restlessly with the handkerchief in her hands. There was nothing she could say without giving something away. She should have known this was futile. Alastair would never be able to help her – he and Phares were good friends. Of course he’d be loyal to him.

  She stood up and gave a weak smile. ‘You’re right. Thank you … I’m just being foolish. I’m sorry I wasted your time.’

  ‘Wait! You’re not going anywhere.’

  Alastair’s countenance had sharpened, and Aida sensed he had come to a decision in that moment. She looked at him a little startled, for she had never seen anything other than a fraternal expression on the consul’s face in all their previous dealings.

  ‘I suspect I know what all this is about. Please, sit down, Aida.’

  Wordlessly, she obeyed. Finding a cigarette from his pocket, Alastair seemed to deliberate as he lit it and moved away from his desk to stand by the window.

  ‘I am sworn to secrecy, but in this case, I think I need to talk to you.’ He turned and caught her eyes with a penetrating stare. ‘In return, you must give me your solemn promise that you will not breathe a word of what I’m about to say. If you were to do so, you would put lives in danger. Especially your husband’s.’

  Phares’s life in danger?

  Horrified, Aida’s heart twisted hard at these words. She sat bolt upright in her seat. ‘I … I don’t understand.’

  ‘Do you give me your word of honour that you won’t say anything, or act on any part of what I’m about to tell you?’

  Aida smoothed a moist palm over the pleats of her skirt. With his question came the creeping realisation that her impulsive nature might have done her a disservice. Had she jumped to the wrong conclusions yet again? Doubted Phares before trusting her better instincts? What on earth was going on here?

  ‘Yes, yes, of course, Alastair. You have my word of honour. Nothing you say will leave this room.’

  The consul returned to his desk and ran a hand over his thinning blonde hair. ‘We are talking here about trafficking. A ring of smugglers that extends from Greece, through Libya to Nubia. I seem to recall we touched on the subject a few months ago at Princess Nazek’s ball?’

  ‘Yes, I remember. I had the impression you suspected Prince Shams Sakr El Din was involved somehow.’

  At the mention of the prince’s name, Alastair shifted in his seat. ‘Well, my dear, what I’m going to say next will come as a shock to you, I know. Your husband is playing a major part in catching these beggars. We recruited him a few months ago. He has enough knowledge of the desert and its tribesmen to be invaluable to us.’

  ‘But Phares is a doctor, not a spy! Why would he do this?’

  ‘Because he cares. He has a fervent belief that Egypt’s antiquities must be protected for posterity and he doesn’t want criminal organisations to run roughshod over the country he wants to protect.’ He paused to smile at Aida. ‘Young lady, I have grown to have a profound respect for that husband of yours.’

  ‘Oh!’ Wordless, she gave the tiniest gasp. Aida had come here suspecting treachery – base, criminal instincts in her husband, and now a hot rush of shame flooded her in the face of her own faithlessness.

  Alastair’s regard was full of gentle sympathy. He went on speaking, giving her time to recover herself. ‘Phares has travelled all over the Western Desert and Upper Egypt, trying to gather intelligence. A man they call El Kébir. Phares was involved in a highly dangerous mission to apprehend one of the caravans transporting stolen antiquities, just before your honeymoon, in fact. We thought it might give us El Kébir.’

  Aida’s eyes widened, struggling with the meaning of his words. ‘All that time before we got married … all that time he was away … He … he was a spy …?’

  ‘Well, not officially, you understand. Though I must say, Phares being away on honeymoon was rather inconvenient for the
agency.’ The consul smiled at her as he stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Still, it was clear he wouldn’t have allowed anything to get in the way of being with you, Aida. So, I can assure you, his nightly escapades, poor man, have nothing to do with playing the field, but on the contrary, they are spent serving his country and the British government, risking his life to rid Egypt of this vermin.’

  Aida remembered Phares’s tired countenance, his distracted looks, and once again, she felt as small as a worm for ever having doubted him. ‘So, you still don’t know who El Kébir is?’

  ‘We’re getting closer. Phares is presently engaged on a vital part of what we hope will be the endgame. He has told you he is away travelling on business. In fact, he is posing as a dealer, working undercover on one of the most sensitive parts of this whole mission.’

  She took a deep breath, too bemused to say anything for a few minutes, before sanity returned with a rush. ‘Oh my God!’ she exclaimed, burying her face in her hands. ‘How utterly blind and foolish I’ve been.’

  ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s tempting to jump to conclusions when you don’t have all the facts.’

  She swallowed. ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘I’m not at liberty to tell you that, but he is not alone and we are doing our best to protect him and the men with him.’

  ‘How long will he be away?’

  ‘That depends. But we are closer than we’ve ever been … so fingers crossed it shouldn’t be long now.’

  ‘Will you keep me posted?’

  ‘That’ll be a little difficult with you living in Luxor. We have reason to believe that some of the people involved in this racket are quite important. We can’t talk on the telephone. One never knows who is listening at doors, so to speak.’

  Aida’s brow furrowed. She recalled again their conversation at the princess’s ball. ‘So, these “important” people you speak of …? Is one of them Prince Shams Sakr El Din? Is he involved?’

  Alastair paused for a long moment, and she was about to apologise for having asked about what was surely classified information, but then he spoke: ‘I have already given you sensitive details of our delicate operation so I suppose it won’t hurt to give a few more … Yes, the prince was involved, and fought to avoid being apprehended. Fought your husband, in fact. In the skirmish, the prince was killed.’