Engaged to the Doctor Sheikh

by Meredith Webber

  And received a slight rise of her eyebrows in response.

  They worked together on the boy, Tariq aware of her closeness as a tingling in his skin, but saying little, both agreeing the wounds were healing well.

  He left her in the clinic with Rani and Sybilla and went to speak to the men, intending to sit with her at dinner and maybe take her to join the others by the nightly fire. But dinner found her ensconced between her other co-workers, and it was they who took her to sit by the fire.

  Not that it mattered, he told himself. Tomorrow they’d be out of here and he’d see far less of her at the hospital. Life would slip back into its normal rhythms.

  But what was normal now?

  * * *

  A commotion woke him, yelling and abuse, swearing and cursing, and he left his tent to find a group of men trying to subdue an enraged camel.

  ‘She just went berserk,’ one of the men told him, finally fixing a halter around the beast’s head and neck. ‘She lashed out at her boy then bit the man who went to help. You should see him first.’

  Tariq left the men to settle the angry animal, and joined the group gathered around the injured man.

  ‘But that’s our clinic driver,’ Tariq said to Karam, who was organising the chaos.

  ‘Not only that, but his right hand is injured. There’s no way he’ll be able to drive the clinic bus back to the city today.’

  ‘You could fly him back then return for us. Take Rani and Sybilla to keep an eye on him on the way.’

  ‘And the next clinic?’ Karam asked. ‘The timetable is tight enough as it is. It’s an eight-hour drive back to town, then the bus has to be restocked, and is due to go out again in the morning. You know how people will be travelling to the next camp to have someone check their children. We cannot let them down.’

  ‘Can you drive a rig like that?’ Tariq asked him, although he was sure he already knew the answer.

  ‘I can,’ said a voice behind him, and he turned to see Lila, rather bleary-eyed but obviously drawn out of her tent by the commotion.

  ‘Of course you can’t,’ he said.

  ‘I bet I can!’ she replied, and had the hide to flash him a cheeky smile. ‘Licensed and all. You can fly the injured man back to town, while Rani, Sybilla and I will start to drive the medical unit back to the city. Then you could find a new driver and fly out to meet us on the road. He can take over, and we’ll all fly back with you. That way we don’t waste time with the clinic sitting here waiting for a replacement driver. Isn’t that best?’

  She made it sound so simple, but it had to be impossible—pint-sized little beauty that she was driving a huge vehicle like this one.

  ‘Show me,’ he said.

  And this time her smile was sheer delight.

  ‘I’m sorry the man was injured but I’ve been longing to drive it.’

  She led the way to the vehicle and clambered inside, sat behind the wheel and looked around her, touching things, feeling the steering wheel, the buttons for the gears, running her hands around the dashboard as if learning the vehicle from touch.

  ‘Do you have a phone with you? Could I call Australia?’

  Totally bemused, he handed over his phone and waited as she dialled what seemed like a very long number.

  ‘Pop?’ she said. ‘It’s Lila. I’m sorry to wake you. Yes, yes, I’m fine, but the rig I told you about, I’m going to drive it, and it’s left-hand drive. What do I need to think about? What do I need to know? My boss is with me so I’m going to put you on speaker phone so he can hear as well. I don’t think he quite trusts me.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that little girl driving your rig,’ a man’s voice, deep and robust, said. ‘She’s spent more time in the cabs of big rigs than most truckies I know. And, Lila, just get a feel for all the controls and the important thing to remember is that, as the driver, you’re always closest to the middle of the road—passenger closest to the footpath side. Remember that and you can’t go wrong.’

  There was a slight pause before he added, ‘You all right, lass?’

  Tariq saw the smile that lit up her face, and read the love she had for this man she called Pop.

  ‘I’m fine, Pop, just fine. Love to Hallie and all the others. I’ll call you when we get back to town.’

  Tariq watched as Lila went through what he supposed was a routine exploration of the strange vehicle then saw her smile as she started the engine.

  ‘Well, are you going to insist on a test drive or get out and let Rani and Sybilla in?’

  Tariq knew it made sense, but to send the three women off on such a venture?

  ‘You’re right about saving time,’ he admitted, somewhat reluctantly, ‘but I won’t let three women drive along these roads without a male escort, so I’ll come with you, and Rani and Sybilla can go in the helicopter. I’ll just arrange it.’

  He climbed out of the cab and spoke to Karam, explaining what they intended to do, knowing Karam could fly the helicopter every bit as well as he could.

  With that arranged he grabbed the bag he’d packed the night before and returned to the waiting vehicle, looking to see that Lila had done the same with her belongings. He climbed back into the cab again, only to be met by a dazzling smile from Lila, excitement fizzing in her eyes.

  ‘Put your seat belt on,’ she told him, snapping her own into place. ‘And let’s go.’

  * * *

  Not wanting to distract her, Tariq stayed silent until they reached the main road, wide and straight, with very little traffic on it.

  ‘You’ve spent more time in big rigs than most truckies?’ he said, repeating the older man’s words.

  His reward was another flashing smile, although her face sobered as she went on to explain.

  ‘My parents’ car, when they had the accident, came round a bend in the road right into the path of a big rig like this. Pop was the driver. He always said they must have been from the US or Europe and had forgotten which side of the road they should be on. Anyway, he stopped as quickly as he could but the little car had swerved across the road in front of him and slammed into a tree.

  She told the story as one heard many times, but there was still a tremor of emotion in her voice.

  ‘Pop got out and was running towards the car when it burst into flames. He says someone called out “Lila”, and that’s when he saw me in the back. He got me out then tried to help my parents but it was too late, the fire exploded all around him.’

  ‘Having pulled you out, he kept you?’ Tariq asked.

  Another smile, this one softer, reminiscent...

  ‘Police came, ambulances that were too late, and a lot of people fussing around, asking questions that didn’t make sense to me. I just clung to Pop, and he held me in his arms, soothing me with his voice, telling me everything would be all right. It turned out he was a registered foster parent so the police agreed I could go home with him. Not that they’d have got me away from him. I was like a limpet.’

  ‘So he took you home and there you stayed?’

  ‘At first it was a temporary placement, but Pop had been burned, rescuing me, and couldn’t drive for a while, so I had him all to myself. Even when he went back to work, I became so upset at being left behind that he would take me with him. He’d always had children’s safety seats in his truck because all the kids liked a ride occasionally, but for the first six months I was with Pop and Hallie I practically lived in the truck.’

  ‘And later?’

  Another smile.

  ‘I learned to drive one, we all did, or most of us. Pop always said it was something we could fall back on if other careers failed.’

  Tariq laughed. This extremely efficient paediatrician having a truck licence to fall back on should she need it?

  Impossible!

  But he wa
s mesmerised by her ability, fascinated by the way her small hands with their slim fingers sat lightly on the wheel, barely moving as the vehicle rolled down the long straight road.

  Mesmerised by the woman too! With what could only be described as a satisfied smile on her lips, she guided their clinic back towards the city. He’d seen enough of her at work to know she was an empathetic and careful doctor, but this?

  She turned and caught his scrutiny, and her smile broadened.

  ‘I’d normally be driving with the radio going, listening to music or discussions and interviews, but as I wouldn’t understand your radio, perhaps you could talk to me—tell me stories about Karuba, stories about its past, and where it might be going in the future.’

  And so he did, describing the unseen tracks across the desert his family had followed for generations, leading tradespeople and adventurers, protecting them as they travelled to foreign lands in search of treasures unavailable in Europe.

  He told how the spirits of their ancestors still continued to guide the people across the desert, protecting them from mischievous djinns who could cause havoc in a person’s life.

  ‘And the other stories,’ Lila asked, ‘the Tales of the Arabian Nights—were they your childhood stories as well?’

  Tariq smiled.

  ‘Childhood stories and history, too, if some people are to be believed, but I think of them as fairy tales, more like your Brothers Grimm.’

  Two hours into the journey and Lila had relaxed enough to enjoy the feeling of power driving such a heavy vehicle always gave her. She knew she was smiling, and Tariq would probably think she was mad, but right now she was locked away in a little bubble of happiness and all she cared about was the road ahead.

  Well, the road ahead and the country it ran through.

  Karuba! The name had immediately conjured up magic in her mind, but now she was here...

  She tried to find the words but all she could think was that it felt like home.

  Yet it might not be, she reminded herself, heart heavy at the thought because if it wasn’t she’d have to move on, to leave this place and its people when her year at the hospital ended.

  Leave the man who sat beside her, pointing out a dune here or vegetation there...

  The bubble of happiness had burst and now a helicopter appeared from the east, growing in size until it was above them, then drifting lightly down to land in the sand at the side of the road about a hundred yards ahead.

  Lila dropped down through the gears. She had plenty of time to stop safely, but she felt regret that her little adventure had come to an end, in spite of the less than cheerful thoughts she’d been having. Karam would have brought a substitute driver and she’d be taken home in the helicopter.

  Home?

  Well, back to either the hospital or the palace, she assumed.

  Karam and his passenger were out of the helicopter when she pulled up beside it, Karam talking excitedly to Tariq before he’d dropped to the ground.

  Lila clambered down, smiling at the astonishment on the face of the new driver, but he did nod his head as if in recognition of ability.

  ‘I’m telling you she is,’ she heard Karam say, and came around the front of the vehicle to see Tariq frowning at her.

  ‘What have I done now?’ she asked, not quite defensive but ready to be.

  He shook his head and turned back to Karam, speaking in his own language, although Karam’s reply was again in English.

  ‘But she is. You brought in that genetic expert from the US and he says it’s a match.’

  A match?

  And suddenly Lila understood.

  ‘My blood? I’m a match for Khalil? You can use my blood?’ She was so excited she had to fight an urge to hop or skip, until she remembered the reading she’d done on stem cell transplants.

  ‘But doesn’t the testing take longer than this?’ she asked, her excitement fading.

  ‘The full donor testing normally does but Khalil is fading fast and the expert we are using believes you are close enough to give it a try.’

  It took a moment for her to consider the other significance of this discovery.

  ‘I’m a familial match?’ she asked, her voice faint with the hope she felt in her heart.

  ‘Apparently,’ Tariq replied, and now Lila did do the little hop and skip of excitement.

  ‘But don’t you see, Tariq? See what it means?’

  He obviously didn’t for he was looking at her as if she was mad.

  ‘I’m related,’ she reminded him, ‘so I must be Nalini’s daughter!’

  The wonder of it—of this confirmation—grew inside her like an inflating balloon, making her feel so light she had to fight the impulse to dance around again, and sing and clap her hands and celebrate the certainty that she’d found her mother. That it was no longer a possibility, or even a probability, but proof positive—she was of their blood—she’d found her family.

  Tariq paused, looking at her—studying her—but when he spoke it was obvious that he had no idea how much it meant to her, for his mind was still on stem cells.

  ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ he asked, and she felt a little pang of regret that he wasn’t sharing her happiness.

  Though why should he, who’d always known his mother, think anything of it?

  Lila turned her thoughts firmly to the stem cell conversation—she’d have plenty of time later to nurse her happiness, and wonder at the confirmation, and consider where it might lead.

  ‘Of course I’m sure. The only problem will be the injections. I’m very vague about the whole procedure but don’t I need to have injections every day to stimulate my stem cells so they enter my blood? Would I be able to have them while on the next trip? We were hoping to leave for the next encampment tomorrow.’

  ‘You don’t have to do the next trip,’ Tariq told her. ‘I can have someone else go. The area is less isolated so it won’t be as intensive. It is far better you stay here while you have the injections so your health can be monitored. We also need to know when the peripheral blood stem cells have reached a sufficient level in your blood for you to donate.’

  He spoke crossly, frowning as he did so.

  ‘That’s okay,’ Lila told him. ‘But what’s your problem with this? Why are you annoyed?’

  ‘Because you shouldn’t be doing it. We shouldn’t be asking it of you! You’re a visitor to our country, a guest!’

  ‘As an anonymous donor would be,’ she reminded him, wanting to add ‘and a relation’ but knowing this wasn’t the moment to be pushing family ties.

  ‘It’s not the same,’ he grumbled, and, puzzled by his reaction, Lila wondered...

  ‘Is it because my mother was a thief? Are you upset that I’ll be tainting your brother’s blood?’

  ‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘Such a thought is ridiculous. I just feel it’s asking too much of you.’

  ‘I offered,’ Lila reminded him. ‘Now, let’s get back to town so you can start increasing my stem cells.’

  He glowered at her, but the clinic truck was moving away, picking up speed as it went down the empty road, and Lila turned to watch it, a little sorry she’d lost her bubble of happiness.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TARIQ FLEW THEM straight back to the palace, walking Lila to the women’s house, where Sousa was waiting for her.

  Sousa without her usual bright smile, her face grim with worry.

  “What is it?’ Lila asked, as they walked down the passage to her room.

  ‘There is talk,’ Sousa told her. ‘Much talk about you being here, about your mother, the thief.’

  ‘No one has ever proved my mother was a thief,’ Lila snapped.

  ‘I know,’ Sousa said miserably, ‘but Second Mother is spreading terrible stories a
bout her, even claiming that your mother tried to seduce the King, and many people believe what she is saying.’

  Lila was surprised to find she felt more puzzled than angry about this latest snippet of gossip.

  ‘But if I’m going to try to help her son, shouldn’t she be keeping her thoughts about my mother to herself rather than blackening her name?’

  Sousa gave a little shrug.

  ‘You have to understand that morality is very important to us. Women must be virgins when they wed, and things like affairs with other men are still punishable by law. We can choose who to marry, and can divorce our husbands easily enough if they are not kind to us, but the greatest gift a woman can give to her husband is her virginity, and then she must be faithful to him and him alone.’

  Well, at least I fit the virgin role, Lila thought as she followed Sousa to her room. Not that anyone here would be likely to marry her, and not that it would make her a great prize at home. Modern men seemed to like experienced women—at least that’s what she’d always assumed.

  Barirah met them as they reached the bedroom. She looked flushed and angry, and launched into a tirade against her mother and the stories she was spreading.

  ‘Don’t worry about them,’ Lila told her, putting her arm around the other woman’s—her cousin’s—shoulders. ‘But I do think I should probably move out of the palace to the apartment at the hospital. Maybe then things will simmer down.’

  ‘It’s because of the blood,’ Barirah said, leaving Lila totally confused.

  ‘What blood?’

  ‘Your blood,’ Barirah explained. ‘When Khalil first needed stem cells Second Mother was sure she could donate them. After all she was his mother. But a sibling is always a better match so we were all tried first. When those failed she insisted on being tested, but she was nowhere near close enough. Now she’s jealous of you, just as she was jealous of your mother all those years ago.’

  ‘All the more reason for me to move out,’ Lila told her. ‘We can go this afternoon. It won’t take long for me to pack.’