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The Sheikh

Page 7

by Anne Herries


  ‘I should be getting back,’ she said. ‘Or my friends will begin to wonder where I am.’

  ‘I shall walk with you,’ Pasha said. He rose as she did, and Chloe found that the prospect of a little time alone with him was very pleasing.

  ‘I liked your cousin and his wife,’ she said as they walked back through the gardens. ‘Do you have many relations here?’

  ‘Oh, a few,’ he replied. ‘They are scattered all over—from Morocco to Algiers and the Persian Gulf…’ He raised his brows at her. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Merely idle curiosity,’ she replied. ‘I was surprised, that’s all. I thought you said your people travelled all over the place?’

  ‘In the old times they never ceased to travel and a tent was all the home they knew, but life has changed for the Bedouin as for others in this modern world of ours, Chloe. Many of my people have acquired wealth, and they choose to live in permanent homes built of stone or brick—but, as you heard my cousin say, they still travel frequently. Now it is more often to cities like Paris or London than the old caravan routes, though there are some that remain true to the old ways.’

  ‘It is so interesting to hear you talk.’ Chloe nodded her head. ‘Yes, that fits with the professor’s research. He thinks it a shame that—’ She stopped speaking as they neared the house at which she was staying. ‘It looks as if the professor has company.’

  A large, expensive car had drawn up outside, and as Chloe paused she saw a man get out. She gave a little exclamation of surprise.

  ‘Isn’t that…Brent Harwood the film director? You remember, he was on the ship with us.’

  ‘Yes, I believe it is.’ Chloe turned to look at Pasha as he spoke. His face had taken on its harsh expression and his eyes were icy cold. He had withdrawn from her again, just as if the pleasant interlude they had spent together had never been. ‘I think you must excuse me; I must leave you to your friend now. Goodnight.’

  ‘But…’ Chloe stared after him as he began to stride off back down the hill. Now what was wrong? He had implied that Brent Harwood was her friend, but that was ridiculous. Why should he think that? She had spoken to him only once on the ship, and that had not been at her instigation.

  She hesitated, half-inclined to go after Pasha and ask him what was wrong, but then she decided against it. His moods were so unpredictable… She felt as if a shadow had fallen over her—and it had been such an enjoyable afternoon! Chloe felt irritated. Why had he gone off in such a manner?

  And she hadn’t even had a chance to ask him about the conversation she’d overheard in the hotel gardens the night before she and the professor left Cetua. She had forgotten it for a while, and she had meant to ask him as they walked. It was a nuisance, because she still didn’t know whether or not it had been important.

  She felt still more annoyed as she went inside. Why had the professor brought Brent Harwood back to the house—and what on earth did he want? The last time she had seen him had been in the hotel in Cetua, and she had not expected to see him ever again…

  Chapter Four

  ‘I’m not sure I understand what you mean?’ Chloe stared at Charles Hicks in dismay. Surely he was not really suggesting what he seemed to be saying? ‘But I thought we had planned to stay here for at least a week?’

  ‘Yes, that was my original idea,’ the professor agreed and beamed at her. ‘But when I met Mr Harwood and he came up with this idea—well, I thought it was too good to turn down.’

  ‘It would be such a help to me,’ Brent Harwood said, turning his charm on Chloe as if sensing her reluctance. ‘Angela simply refuses to do the desert scenes and I was at a complete loss—and then I happened to meet the professor and I remembered you.’

  ‘You are asking me to be a stand-in for Angela Russell?’ Chloe was disbelieving. ‘But I don’t even look like her…’

  ‘You could do once our make-up artist has finished with you, enough for our purposes anyway,’ he said. ‘I noticed a faint likeness when I was on the ship. It’s more a mannerism than a look. I had intended to ask you if you would do some stand-in work for us then—but we were interrupted by that rather silly young woman.’

  ‘Jane Vermont,’ Chloe said and frowned at him. ‘I’m not sure…’

  Despite her doubts, she was tempted. After all, she had dreamed of being in the movies and she would never be offered another chance.

  ‘It is such an opportunity for me,’ Charles Hicks said. ‘Mr Harwood is flying to the edge of the desert and he has offered to take us with him. It will save days of driving, Chloe dear, but it’s really up to you.’

  He was looking at her in a way that made her feel she would be selfish to turn the offer down. She thought regretfully of the invitations from Pasha’s cousins that would have to be refused, but there was a tiny seed of excitement stirring inside her. After all, she didn’t have to like the director to act in his film, did she?

  ‘Well, if you think I can do it…’

  ‘I knew you would agree,’ Charles said. ‘I said so, didn’t I, Harwood? Amelia thought you wouldn’t, but I was sure you would see what an excellent opportunity this is for us.’

  ‘If you don’t mind, I think I might stay here,’ Amelia said, surprising them. ‘I am feeling a little tired, Charles. And I have been to the desert on several occasions…’

  ‘Feeling a bit under the weather, Amelia?’ Charles nodded his understanding. ‘Well, I am sure we all sympathise with that—and I have taken the house for the week. Yes, stay here by all means, my dear. If you need to take the house on longer, you must do so, of course—but I should have seen enough by that time and I shall rejoin you here.’

  ‘If you are sure you don’t mind?’

  Chloe looked at her, thinking that she did seem rather tired.

  She was still concerned and spoke privately to Amelia before they all went to bed that evening.

  ‘Are you ill? Would you rather I stayed here with you?’

  ‘No, of course not, Chloe dear. I am not ill, just a little weary—and to tell the truth I do not care for the idea of flying… Besides, Charles would not be pleased if you changed your mind now. I have never told him that I am nervous of flying.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Chloe felt relieved. ‘Yes, it can be a little frightening the first time. Daddy took me on a flight to Paris for my twenty-first birthday. It was quite exciting once I had got over my nerves.’

  ‘Yes, I expect so,’ Amelia agreed. ‘But I don’t think I shall change my mind. Besides, I don’t like that man very much.’ She gave Chloe an odd look. ‘Be careful of him, my dear. I don’t trust him.’

  ‘To be honest, I am not sure I do, either,’ Chloe said and laughed. ‘He can be charming, of course, but there’s something…’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t have to like him to act in his film, do I?’

  ‘No, of course not. That will be quite exciting for you, Chloe.’

  ‘Yes, I think it might,’ she agreed. ‘I did so love Rudolph Valentino’s film…and this ought to be a bit like it, don’t you think?’

  ‘Perhaps…’ Amelia looked doubtful. ‘It will please Charles, anyway. Mr Harwood promised that he could use his plane to take trips into the desert…apparently there’s a ruined fort he particularly wants to see.’

  ‘Oh, well, then I can understand why it is so important to him,’ Chloe said. ‘Someone was going to call at the house to invite us all to dinner tomorrow. If I leave a letter…would you give it to him?’

  ‘Yes, of course, my dear.’ Amelia looked at her curiously. ‘Friends of yours, Chloe?’

  ‘Do you remember Mr Armand from the ship?’

  ‘Armand…?’ Amelia nodded. ‘Vaguely. He was rather a reserved man, wasn’t he? I am not sure that I spoke to him, though he may have nodded in passing. I believe Charles had an interesting conversation with him once.’

  ‘Yes, he was rather reserved then—though we spoke a few times. He helped me in Cetua, when I thought some men were following me.’ Chloe blushed as Amelia loo
ked at her in surprise. ‘They thought I was a famous actress and wanted my autograph. Well, anyway, Mr Al-Hadra is a cousin of his. I met them this afternoon and had tea…’ She explained about the garden and the way she had been made welcome. ‘So I don’t want to just go off without some kind of explanation.’

  ‘Certainly not,’ Amelia said and looked approving. ‘They were generous and hospitable, Chloe. The least you can do is to write a note of explanation. I shall be happy to give it to Mr Al-Hadra if he calls.’

  Chloe thanked her and went to bed with an easier mind. She was still disappointed not to be able to visit her new friends again, because she had been looking forward to getting to know them better—but she couldn’t help feeling a little excited about the prospect of being in a Hollywood film. She wondered what the actor who was playing the Sheikh would look like.

  Her dreams were of the desert once more and of being in a tent, and the man who came to her in those dreams looked like Pasha Ibn Hasim.

  Chloe had to agree that the flight to the village at the edge of the western Sahara had saved them days of travelling over dusty roads, and was very much more comfortable. The plane Brent Harwood had hired was in fact similar to the one Chloe had flown in on that trip to Paris with her father, and she marvelled that anyone should hire it for their personal use. But Brent Harwood was obviously rich, and when they arrived at their destination they were taken not to the small and probably dirty hotel Chloe had expected they might find in such a remote place, but to the rather large and palatial home of a rich Moroccan.

  Chloe was shown to a bedroom with a veranda that opened out on to private gardens, with a little fountain and shady walks. It seemed almost unbelievable that something like this could exist at the edge of what were miles of inhospitable desert.

  Chloe knew that only a small population of Bedouin and Berber peoples managed to scrape a subsistence living from rearing sheep, goats and camels in the area, which was hot, dry and arid. Once the Bedouin tribes had been warriors of the caravan routes but these days, the professor had told her, many of them found only a poor living from the area that was cultivated.

  ‘Of course they may find minerals or oil here one day,’ he had told Chloe. ‘And that might change things—but it would still be difficult to exploit because of the shortage of water.’

  Chloe wondered what Pasha would have to say about all this, and whether he also had relatives living in this part of Morocco. She had addressed her letter to Sashimi, feeling that it might be the correct thing to do—and could only hope that she had not offended her new friends. Perhaps when they returned to Marrakesh she might visit them again one day.

  ‘I think Angela might have changed her mind about coming if she’d realised what this was like,’ Brent observed when Chloe and the professor joined him in one of the huge reception rooms that evening. ‘It’s certainly better than anything else we’ve been offered in this country. I hope you are satisfied with your room, Chloe?’

  ‘It’s very nice,’ she said. ‘Much better than the hotel—but I know that the homes of wealthy Moroccans can be very attractive.’ She blushed as he stared at her. ‘I was invited to take tea with some people I met—and it was very pleasant.’

  ‘Well, you’ve been luckier than we have,’ Brent said, looking annoyed. ‘It cost me an arm and a leg to get this place, because they were reluctant to hire it to us—and then Angela said she was ill and wouldn’t come. But I guess we can manage without her. I can shoot all the desert stuff with you—we’ll take it from back view or side and make it slightly indistinct.’

  ‘How do you do that?’

  ‘Oh, we have special lenses for different effects,’ he told her. ‘All you have to do is smile and look pretty—or act as if you’re scared when the Sheikh scoops you up on his horse and rides off into the desert with you. But don’t worry, you don’t need to know any of this. I’ll be telling you what to do all the time. It doesn’t call for any real acting. We’ll do all the close-ups in the studio when we get back home.’

  ‘Couldn’t you have shot it all in America?’ Chloe asked. ‘I mean—you didn’t really have to come all this way, did you?’

  His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. ‘I wanted to make the background authentic—and I’ve got some pretty good stuff in the can. Besides, I had personal reasons for coming out here…’

  His expression told Chloe that he was not very pleased by her asking questions. He obviously expected blind obedience from his actors and actresses. Clearly, he didn’t expect her to think, merely to do as she was told.

  Her opinion of him hadn’t improved on closer acquaintance, Chloe thought, and she felt a little regretful at having agreed to go along with the suggestion that she help with stand-in work.

  However, when she was introduced before dinner to the actors and actresses who were making the film, she found herself caught up in the excitement. The leading actor—a man called Duke Earl, which was a name that caused Chloe to giggle inside—wasn’t quite as handsome or compelling as Valentino, but he was certainly attractive and should cause a few female hearts to flutter when the film was released. There were three other male actors, who introduced themselves as Kendal, Harry and Joe, and each played several parts, for which they told her they wore different wigs and make up. Also two actresses, who were playing slave girls, but both had walk-on parts as waitresses and various other characters in the earlier part of the film.

  ‘Brent uses a lot of extras,’ an actress called Belle told her. ‘It’s cheaper that way—stars cost a lot of money. We only get paid a fraction of what Angela and Duke are getting for this.’

  ‘I suppose it’s always like that,’ Chloe said. ‘Brent didn’t actually say he was paying me anything—but he did say he would provide some decent clothes for me to wear. Most of mine were left back at the hotel in Cetua.’

  ‘Oh, we’ve got plenty of stuff in costume,’ Belle said. ‘The crew came down ahead of us. I’ll take you over in the morning and you can sort something out.’

  ‘It’s all exciting, isn’t it?’ Chloe said. ‘What is the film going to be called? I don’t want to miss it when it comes out.’

  ‘I think the title at the moment is something like Desert Lover,’ Belle said. ‘But they change that all the time. Don’t worry, Chloe. If you give me your address at home I’ll write and let you know. It’s no use relying on Brent for anything. He’ll forget you the minute he’s got what he wants from you, so be very careful and don’t believe a half of what he tells you. He would promise anything to get his own way.’

  Chloe was a little startled by the other girl’s frank words. ‘Well, I wasn’t expecting to become a star.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Angela won’t let you,’ Belle said. ‘I wouldn’t mind betting that when she finds out someone is taking her place she’ll high-tail it down here as fast as she can.’

  ‘Oh.’ Chloe thought this over and realised that her trip might have been in vain. ‘Well, I hope she doesn’t come too soon. I want to see how everything is done.’

  ‘You’ll get bored after a couple of days,’ Belle told her. ‘It’s mostly standing around until they want you—then an hour of action and then it’s back to waiting again.’

  Chloe digested this in silence. She wondered if Belle was trying to discourage her, but the other actors all said something similar when she talked to them. Apparently, the director was in charge and they all hung around waiting for him to tell them what to do—which sounded a little boring to Chloe.

  ‘Do we get to see any of what has already been filmed?’ she asked, but the reply was a firm no. The film was put together when Brent Harwood got back to his studio in Hollywood, and much of it would end up on the cutting-room floor.

  Chloe thought it all over as she looked out of her room at the sky before retiring for the night. The stars were out over the desert and she felt an odd yearning to go there…not with all the camera crew and actors, but alone. Then she dismissed the idea as nonsense. She had never b
een to the desert and she wouldn’t have the faintest idea of how to survive there…and it wasn’t likely that a Sheikh would come along and take her back to his casbah.

  She was beginning to realise that her dreams were far from reality, and that there was nothing particularly romantic about making a film.

  Despite her thoughts before she went to bed, Chloe once again dreamed of being in a tent. This time when she woke she remembered quite clearly who had been with her in her rather naughty dream, and blushed for shame. She was thankful that Pasha could not guess that he had featured in her dreams so often of late—and that no one could know the nature of the dreams she had experienced so vividly the previous night. Oh, why did he linger in her mind all the time?

  It was ridiculous to let herself think of him so often. Her common sense told her that Pasha would have forgotten her by now. He would have been annoyed that she had broken her appointment with his cousin—but then he would dismiss her as being unworthy of his notice.

  She must forget him or she would never settle to anything! She was about to discover the exciting world behind the films she enjoyed so much, and it would be foolish to let a man who could never be anything to her spoil the experience.

  The camera crew had been out the day before and set up tents for the actors to use while they were waiting around. Everyone was dressed in the costume of the Bedouin, and Chloe noticed that there were some locals dressed in similar costume mixing with the crew.

  She presumed they were the extras, and the tents being used were meant to represent the Bedouin camp portrayed in the film. Brent seemed to be concentrating on taking shots of the camp for most of the morning, and the extras were encouraged to walk around with water skins tucked under their arms, and look as if they were going about their normal business. Camels had been brought to the location, and some of the men led them across the set from time to time.

 

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