by Isobel Chace
‘I thought gaz was like butane, something one cooked on?’
‘Not in Isfahan. Here it’s a kind of nougat with pistachio nuts in it. It’s good—not too sweet!’ He felt in his pocket and pulled out a handful of notes, some of which he pressed into her hand. ‘Get yourself a box of the stuff, and give Fatemeh some too!’
‘But I have enough money!’ she protested.
‘Husband’s privilege,’ he retorted with a sidelong grin. ‘Put it in your pocket, Stephanie, and let me enjoy treating you. I haven’t had the opportunity to buy you much so far, and a few sweets won’t bankrupt me.’ Her fingers closed over the notes. He had given her a ridiculous amount for a few sweets and they both knew it. ‘Thank you, Cas. I’d like to give Fatemeh something. It was her caviare we had for breakfast.’ She lowered her lashes so that she didn’t have to meet his eyes. ‘What are we going to give her when she gets married? I’d like to get her something really English, but I don’t want you to feel left out.’
‘She’s your friend, honey. What had you thought of getting her?’
She took a deep breath. ‘A cashmere twin-set. I could get my mother to send it out here, but they’re not cheap to begin with, and there’s bound to be a whole lot of duty. Would it be too much?’
He wiped all trace of expression off his face. ‘Are you asking me to pay?’ he asked.
She nodded, still not looking at him. ‘I haven’t got that kind of money,’ she confessed. ‘But I can think of something else, if you—if you think it’s too much?’
He leaned back against the back of the seat, a smile of pure content breaking over his features. ‘I had a bet with myself that the first thing you asked me for would be something for your parents, the second something for a friend, and then possibly something for yourself! I wasn’t too far out, was I?’
‘I don’t want to impose,’ she said quickly. ‘I’ll put something towards it too. But I thought you might like—’
‘And so I do!’ he assured her. ‘I like it very much! I shall like it even more when you ask me for something for yourself!’
‘You gave me the flowers,’ she reminded him.
‘That was just the beginning.’ He chuckled at the look on her face. ‘I’ve never had a wife of my own to give things to before and I mean to make the most of it! Some really gay little dresses, for instance, that nobody would wear in the office. They’ll go with your fringe.’
‘Oh, but something quieter would be more useful.’ He had to be teasing her, of course, but it would be fun to buy a few things just because they were pretty and not with an eye as to their suitability and whether they were strongly enough made to last two seasons rather than one. ‘Cas, you shouldn’t spoil me. I might get to expect it, and I can’t bear people who aren’t grateful when they’re given things!’
He patted her knee, leaning forward as they drew up outside the office building. ‘I don’t think there’s any danger of that,’ he said.
Stephanie got out of the Range Rover and walked up and down the pavement after he had gone inside. She would be sitting for long enough once they got going not to take advantage of every stop they made. She went up to the glass doors of the building and smiled at Ali through them. She saw Fatemeh coming out of the lift, pulling her chador about her shoulders as she came. And behind her there was another woman, a woman she would have recognised anywhere, the woman who haunted her dreams and turned them into nightmares. It was Amber. But what was she doing there? She put up a hand to push open the door, but changed her mind as Fatemeh came hurrying out to her.
‘Was that Amber who came down with you in the lift?’ she demanded in a high, unnatural voice. ‘What’s she doing here?’
Fatemeh gave her a compassionate look. ‘She had something to say to Mr. Ruddock.’
‘Again?’ Stephanie sighed.
Fatemeh plucked at her chador. ‘It’s better to pretend you haven’t seen her.’ Satisfied that her veil was now to her satisfaction, she turned her full attention on her friend. ‘Mr. Ruddock said you had some shopping to do. What is it you wish to buy?’
‘Some gaz. He said to get some for you too.’ Stephanie allowed herself to be propelled down the street towards a little row of shops at the corner. ‘Does she come to the office often since—since I’ve been gone?’
‘They have business together,’ Fatemeh answered reluctantly.
‘What business?’
‘If Mr. Ruddock wishes you to know, he will tell you himself. I can’t tell you, Stephanie! All I know it that you are not to go inside—’
‘Because he doesn’t want me to see her!’
‘Perhaps,’ the Persian girl admitted.
‘He saw her last night too! Fatemeh, what am I going to do?’
Fatemeh put her hand on her arm, turning her round to face her. ‘You must not do anything. You don’t know why they are seeing each other and if you guess, and guess wrong, what will you say to Mr. Ruddock then? She is an old friend of your husband, but you are his wife. Do you think Mr. Ruddock would forget that?’
Stephanie blinked. ‘He might not be able to help it. She’s so beautiful! And I’m not! I’m not even passable. She makes me feel stiff and awkward and—and gauche! I don’t know why, because I don’t hold my petticoat together with safety-pins and I’m sure she does. But it doesn’t seem to matter with her!’
Fatemeh uttered a short, squeaky laugh. ‘Perhaps it is too important to you. Though I expect when Amber is home with her husband she relies less on pins and more on her needle—’
‘Her husband?’
Fatemeh jerked to a halt. ‘But I thought you knew, Stephanie, that she was married? It is only recently that she has come here by herself. Before, they always came together. They used to work together. He was even more famous than she as a dancer. But this year and last year she came alone. There was a rumour that he had divorced her, but this was denied by her manager in all the local papers. It’s not as easy for Armenians to divorce as it is amongst us, but she is always talking about going home, so I think she must still be happily married.’
‘Does Cas know her husband too?’ Stephanie asked in a frozen voice.
Fatemeh shrugged. ‘You must ask him that. How would I know? But you would do better to put her out of your mind and work at pleasing your husband instead. If he had seen any future for himself with Amber, he would not have married you!’
‘But he couldn’t marry her if she’s married to someone else,’ Stephanie pointed out. But why had he married her? Because he had guessed the way she felt about him and had felt sorry for her?
Fatemeh pulled her veil across her face as they reached the shop they were going into. ‘Perhaps that is why he married you,’ she said carefully as though she was searching for the right English words that would convey her exact meaning. ‘But, Stephanie, who will you help if you make him regret marrying you? Be happy that he wanted to make you his wife. You will still be beside him long after Amber has gone back to Beirut and her husband. Me, I find your position more enviable than hers! You have years in which to be loved by him. What has Amber had?’
Stephanie didn’t know. She knew that she had stolen her wedding night and that she was there, talking to Cas at that very moment, when she herself was forbidden even to go into the office building. And she knew that she could never see Amber without wondering just what she had meant to Cas—what they still did mean to each other.
She followed Fatemeh into the shop and paid for the two gaudy boxes of gaz, hardly looking at them as she tucked her own box under her arm and gave the other one to the Iranian girl.
‘I love him so much!’ she said as they came out into the street again.
‘Then make him happy by telling him so,’ Fatemeh responded gently. ‘Tell him so often, Stephanie, and make yourself happy too!’
CHAPTER X
Cas seemed twice life size as he came through the glass doors. It made Stephanie catch her breath to see him—he was always at least three inches bigger
than she had remembered him to be.
‘What’s Amber doing here?’ she demanded.
His only answer was to laugh at her. ‘You’re jealous!’ he accused her. He whirled her right off her feet, holding her high above his head, as if she were no more than a child.
‘Cas!’ she exclaimed. ‘Cas, put me down!’
She wouldn’t have put it past him to toss her right up into the air and she clutched at him to prevent the indignity, trying to tuck her shirt more firmly into her trousers at the same time. He held her close and rumpled her hair.
‘Love me?’ he asked her.
She found herself looking straight into his eyes, for once on the same level as himself. The street vanished from her consciousness, all thought of Amber forgotten. She didn’t even care that her shirt had parted company with her trousers altogether.
‘Yes.’
He put her gently back on to her feet. ‘Good,’ he said.
The street came back into vision and Stephanie blushed to the roots of her hair. Fatemeh was looking at her askance, her eyes bright with laughter.
‘What’s so funny?’ Stephanie asked her in a fierce aside, valiantly trying to restore order to her usually neat appearance.
Fatemeh murmured something in her own tongue, drawing the flap of her veil more closely across her face. ‘I am his witness,’ she added in English, still giggling.
Stephanie could have stamped her foot in rage. She hated to be made to feel foolish at any time, but to treat her like a child in public was something she would find it hard to forgive the large man at her side.
‘I hope you’re satisfied?’ she glared up at him.
His laughter could have been heard half-way down the street. ‘For now,’ he answered her. ‘Things are going very well indeed! Come on, love, we’d better be going.’ He held out his hand to Fatemeh. ‘I guess you know what you have to do, Miss Ma’aruf? Don’t forget to lock everything up when you leave. It’s all set up.’
Fatemeh nodded. She glanced briefly at Stephanie and then back at the American. ‘I will do exactly as you told me. No one but myself will go into your office, or into Stephanie’s either.’
Cas’s lips twitched. ‘Except that it’s your office now,’ he reminded her.
‘For a little while.’ The amusement came back into her eyes. ‘Or is your wife to lead a life of leisure now that she is married to you?’
He didn’t seem to resent the question. ‘Could be,’ he said. ‘How about you, Miss Ma’aruf? Are you going on working after you’re married?’
Fatemeh shook her head, looking embarrassed. ‘My family is very modern, but not that modern. Persian women prefer to stay at home and look after their families. They have great influence with their husbands and sons, but they don’t like to be seen often in public. Me, I am very Persian!’
‘Yet your family allowed you to work,’ Stephanie put in. ‘Wasn’t that a great step forward?’
Fatemeh shrugged. ‘It has been interesting,’ she admitted. ‘I wanted to be able to talk to my future husband about the things that interest him and now that I know something of his world, I can do this. But I prefer to keep to my own sphere after my marriage.’
‘Quite right!’ Cas commended her. ‘See what you can do about persuading Stephanie that I come first, will you? You could even teach her to wear a chador and I shouldn’t object!’
Stephanie sighed. ‘He’s afraid I’m going to run off with the driver, Idries!’
Fatemeh was not amused. ‘Stephanie! How can you joke—’
It was Cas who came to his wife’s defence. ‘Stephanie has never lacked courage,’ he drawled. ‘Least of all in her dealings with me.’
Yet there had been times when she had been more than a little afraid of him, but that was her own secret. Sometimes it was the most exciting thing in the world, like just now, when he had swept her off her feet and had tossed her up in the air. She could protest all she liked that she didn’t like to be handled and that she liked to keep her feet firmly on the ground, but she couldn’t deny the ecstasy that fired her blood when he destroyed her reserve with his superior strength, and forced her to rely on him rather than on her own, much vaunted, dignity.
‘Sometimes I don’t feel very courageous,’ she said, more to herself than to anyone else. ‘I’m not very anything!’ she added on a note of passion.
‘You’ll do,’ Cas told her. He ordered Idries into the passenger-seat and swung Stephanie up into the Range Rover, settling her into the middle seat and then getting in beside her. ‘You’ll do me any time!’
It was a long way to where the teams were actually working, setting up the new telecommunications equipment. If Stephanie had ever doubted that Persia was a large country, that day’s drive would have convinced her. Mile after mile, they sped across the open, dun-coloured plains, reaching the pass over the mountains, only to find another plain before them, the mirror image of the one before. The dry atmosphere made it possible to see for miles in any direction, the view only restricted by the endless range of mountains that constantly changed colour as the rays of the sun played on their slopes.
After the first hour conversation became desultory and finally died away altogether. Stephanie became increasingly conscious of the stiffness of her limbs and she wished desperately that she and Cas had been alone in the Range Rover, without the constraint of a third person.
‘Tired, honey?’ he asked her, when a second and then a third hour had slipped by.
She was too proud to admit that she was. ‘Not a bit!’ She threw him a cautious glance from beneath her lashes. ‘How much further do we have to go?’
‘We’ll stop at one of the Government Rest Houses for lunch. It’s not too far now, is it, Idries?’
‘No, aga, not far now. The very next town. Then we have very nice meal. Madame will feel better then.’
‘I feel fine now!’ Stephanie declared with more spirit than truth.
‘Prepared for anything?’ Cas teased her. ‘You’ll need to be tonight. There’s not much chance of our finding a hotel in the middle of nowhere.’
‘We have our sleeping-bags.’ That reminded her about the well-used state of the two of them. ‘You must have slept out often before,’ she said. ‘Who used the other one?’
‘Still jealous?’ he mocked her.
‘Of course not. I can’t imagine—’ She broke off, horrified by what she had been about to say; that she couldn’t imagine Amber camping with anyone!
‘My brother and I do a lot of fishing back home,’ he answered her original query. ‘One of the bags is his. I don’t say that no one else has ever used it, but you’re the first female, so far as I know. Satisfied?’
‘I suppose so,’ she murmured.
‘What else do you want to know?’
There were so many things. She wanted to know everything about him; ridiculous things like what he had looked like as a small boy, and what sort of things made him laugh.
‘I didn’t know you had a brother,’ she said.
‘I have a brother and a sister, aunts and uncles, and the usual complement of grandparents.’
‘And they all live in West Virginia?’
‘My father’s people do. My mother’s family are spread more thinly on the ground. Some of them stayed in Poland. You’ll meet them all in time, I guess. There’ll be a lot of talk about Casimir marrying a Britisher. They’ll all come and look you over to see if you’re good enough for me! Think you can stand it?’
She averted her face from the brash amusement she saw in his eyes.
‘You should have taken Casimir’s dreamboat home with you and given them something to talk about!’
‘I don’t think Amber would care for Virginia.’
‘Perhaps I won’t either!’
The corners of his mouth curved into a smile. ‘I’m not afraid of your being homesick—at least, not often. You’ll fit in too well not to feel at home there.’
‘I shall miss my parents! I’ve always liv
ed with them. This is the longest I’ve ever been away from them!’
His glance swept over her and his smile deepened. ‘Your home is in my arms,’ he said quietly. ‘Once I’ve convinced you of that, you won’t be lonesome for any other. I’ll see to that!’
She had no answer to that. Indeed, she could hardly breathe and her mouth was dry at the thought. How marvellous it would be when she was his wife in fact and Amber was back home in Beirut with her husband! In time Cas might even forget the Armenian beauty and she might win all his heart for herself. There could be no greater bliss in all the world than that!
They came upon the town suddenly. It lay in the fold of the mountain range, a small stream running through its centre. It consisted of a few, dark, shuttered shops, lit by circular neon strips, and a collection of dun-coloured houses that were slowly crumbling back into the dust from which they had been built. At the far end was the mosque, crowned with a tiled dome that was badly in need of repair.
‘The town is far away,’ Idries explained. ‘Few people come this way.’
‘But it looks so sad and neglected,’ Stephanie murmured.
‘The owner never comes here,’ Idries told her. ‘He lives in Tehran and cares nothing for the people here. But these things will be ended soon. The Shahanshah has brought in many reforms and there will be others to follow. One day, these people will own their own land. In my village, it is already like that.’
‘They could at least repair the mosque, ’Stephanie said.
‘They are building a new one, near to the Rest House. That one is too close to the water. When it floods, all the walls fall down and no one can use it. The new one will be much better.’
But the old one had been a fine building in its time. It had been built on the same plan as one of the old Sassanian Fire Temples, in the form of a square cross, which had once held the sacred fire in its centre.
‘Was it always so near the river?’ she asked.
Idries shook his head. ‘The water moved its bed in an earthquake. The earth is always moving round here. Sometimes you can feel it trembling beneath your feet, but sometimes it has bad results and people are killed and their homes fall down.’