Lucy and the Sheikh

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Lucy and the Sheikh Page 13

by Diana Fraser


  There were people everywhere after the storm, cleaning out the sand, tidying up. As Lucy passed by the gardens, sprays of water filled the air, casting rainbows in the sunshine. The interior of the palace was also being given the same treatment. Everyone was busy brushing out the sand that had crept into every corner, that had found its way through all the city’s inadequate defenses: defenses which were powerless against such a force of nature.

  Outside the palace, Aakifah was waiting for her and the two embraced as if they were long-lost friends and walked off down the street, toward Aakifah’s home.

  “Everyone’s real busy today. What’s going on? Just the usual clean up?”

  “It is the visit of Her Royal Highness Princess Neelam. I have a friend in the palace. Apparently they’re all surprised by the visit. She should have arrived next week.”

  “I’ve heard of her. Isn’t her father a big landowner?”

  “Yes, a very important man. A very fine family.”

  “That’s a lot of trouble to go to for someone calling in.”

  “It is not just someone.”

  “Who, then?”

  “Princess Neelam is to be King Razeen’s fiancee. It is expected their engagement will be announced this weekend.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Engaged! Lucy doubled up, gasping, as if all the air had been punched out of her.

  “Lucy! What is the matter?”

  Lucy eased herself upright, fighting for breath and fighting the images that raced through her brain: of Razeen laughing with her, making love to her, talking to her of anything but the fact that he was engaged to be married. She hadn’t realized until that moment just how much she felt for him, how much she really had trusted him. That was a joke. No wonder he’d been so angry with her comments. He knew he wasn’t to be trusted and he hadn’t even bothered to tell her why.

  “I’m fine, I think. Must be the heat. How about we stop for a moment.” She glanced around and saw they were outside a coffee shop. “I’ll buy us some coffees, yes?” From the excited light in Aakifah’s eyes, Lucy realized her new friend had no money for such luxuries. “Perhaps you could order for us? Coffee and how about some date cake?”

  They sat at a rough bench and drank and ate while watching the people go about their business: some already back on the street, selling their goods but most still cleaning up after the storm. Lucy half-listened to Aakifah’s talk of her friends and TV shows but Lucy’s thoughts were dominated by Razeen and his betrayal. Yet, not his betrayal, she realized. He’d always been clear they would be together for only two weeks. The fact it had turned into one week appeared to have surprised even him.

  “Lucy, what is the matter? You do not hear what I am saying.”

  Lucy drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Tell me again. Why does your mother want to see me?”

  “She said I should not tell you. That you seeing, is the best. No, I was talking about the Princess who will soon be Queen. We are all very excited. She is of the best noble family.”

  Lucy’s heart sank. “What’s she like?” She tried to keep her voice neutral, tried not to express the aching jealousy that surged within her.

  “Very beautiful of course. She has large—”

  “No,” Lucy interrupted, trying to contain her irritation at what Aakifah had just said. “What’s she like as a person?”

  Aakifah shrugged. “We know only what she looks like. People like us know little about the rich people in our country.”

  “Does she do good works? Does she help people?”

  “Oh no, that is not her job. All we know is that she is a very suitable wife for the King, it will be very good for the country.”

  “In what way will a woman who keeps herself to herself be good for the country?”

  “It is about tradition, connections. Of course she will not be of real help in other ways.”

  Anger blazed inside, burning away the hurt and jealousy. She remembered the times when Razeen had appeared in public—so distant from his people, so different to the real Razeen. He’d said that that was what was expected, that that was what his country needed. But how could that be so, when people like Aakifah and her family needed more practical help than watching their royal family uphold tradition?

  “Of course.” Lucy finished her coffee. “Shall we go?”

  Aakifah helped Lucy step over some fallen pieces of sheet metal and led her to a narrow doorway in a old stone wall. Lucy followed Aakifah through the open door and found herself in a small, dark room, crammed with women. Lucy recognized Aakifah’s mother who smiled at her and spoke a stream of Arabic.

  “My mother offers you a thousand thanks for coming.”

  “My pleasure. I’m very pleased to see her again.”

  She sat where indicated and returned the mother’s eager nods of welcome. “Perhaps you could tell your mother that I hope she is well?”

  Aakifah nodded and was greeted by a barrage of foreign words from her mother. She nodded a few times before turning to Lucy. “My mother thanks you and says that she’d asked you to come because of my little sister.” Aakifah pursed her lips together grimly. “She is the youngest of eight of us but my mother insisted she breast feed her. But my mother hasn’t been well. She’s been very tired and my sister is pale. She has the white sickness.”

  “The what?”

  “I don’t know what you call it but a few years ago a doctor who was treating my cousin for it said there were tablets you could buy overseas. Could you help us get some please?” Suddenly everyone was quiet; the tension in the room was palpable. In the gloom, Aakifah’s eyes shone. “She just lies there: she doesn’t play, she can’t concentrate. We are so worried she will become like my cousin, whose parents could not afford the treatment.”

  “Let me see her.”

  Lucy was no doctor but a quick check of the little girl made her realize the girl was suffering from extreme anemia.

  “You need to get her to a doctor.”

  “We cannot afford the doctor. My mother said I should ask you what to do. I’m sorry, but we didn’t know what else to do.”

  “That’s OK. You did the right thing. I’ll get the palace doctor to call. It looks like anemia to me, but the doctor will need to confirm before we start treatment. What does she eat?”

  It only took Lucy a short while to identify the problem. Their diet was seriously deficient in iron. She knew from her studies that the bread, which was their main staple food, could be contributing to their inability to absorb iron and the children were all breastfed from mothers who were often lacking iron themselves.

  “I will ask at the palace and arrange for a doctor to come to you.”

  “But we can’t pay.”

  “Luckily, I can.” She put her hand on her friend’s arm. “No, really. I’m happy to help. Don’t worry. And I’ll see what else can be done to help you and other girls like your sister. Leave it with me.”

  Lucy arrived back at the palace and immediately tried to see Razeen.

  “He’s not available.” The assistant was polite but firm, different to the day before. Lucy suddenly realized just how much things had changed.

  “I’ll wait.” She smiled, equally firmly, at the assistant and sat outside his suite of offices.

  The assistant crossed her arms. “That will not be convenient. His Majesty will not be able to receive you today. He has other matters to deal with.”

  Lucy held the woman’s stern gaze. “These other matters must have been brought forward. He wasn’t expecting them until next week.”

  Did she imagine it or did the woman look surprised at Lucy’s knowledge? The woman cleared her throat. “Indeed, Princess Neelam decided to surprise His Majesty.”

  “I’m sure she’s done that.” Lucy looked impatiently over the woman’s shoulder. “I’ll wait.”

  And she did. The hours ticked by but by then Lucy’s heels had dug in and she refused to move on principle. The anger sparked at the news of Razeen’s betroth
al had been fanned by the revelation of the needless suffering being endured by Aakifah and her family and, no doubts, thousands like them. And she held on to that anger like a talisman that would see her safely through the next few days until she could leave.

  At last the door opened and a number of people emerged, but not Razeen. The doors closed again. Razeen’s assistants had disappeared with the rush of people, presumably to show them out. Lucy rose and tapped at the door.

  She heard a grunt that sounded vaguely encouraging and she pushed open the door. Razeen sat, his elbows on the table, his fingers steepled and pressed to his mouth in an expression of thoughtful despair.

  He jumped up when he saw Lucy and moved toward her. “I was just thinking about you.”

  “I’m not surprised.” She stepped away, keeping both her body and voice as cold and stiff as possible. “I’ve been sitting outside for two hours.”

  He stopped short of her, the smile that had hovered on his lips now gone. “I’m sorry.” He paused, too long, as if he was apologizing for more than just her long wait. He cleared his throat. “I’ve been busy but you should have told my assistant, she’d have—”

  “I did, and she didn’t let me see you.”

  “I see.” He stepped closer to her, his eyes searching hers. “I’m glad you waited.” He reached out to her but she stepped back, her mouth twisting in pain, as she tried to rein in her own desire to hold him close.

  “How could you, Razeen? How could you?"

  He frowned. “You heard, then.”

  “Of course. It would have been hard not to.”

  “She’s waiting for me. I’m to dine with her.”

  They stood a stride apart from each other but the distance felt insurmountable. “You’re not going before you hear me out.”

  “Of course. I deserve anything you care to accuse me of.”

  Her lip curled. “You flatter yourself that I came to talk about personal matters. They’ve gone. Dead. You killed them. Nothing more to be said. No, why I’m here is that I saw Aakifah today. The woman I met at the market.”

  He frowned. “I remember.”

  “Her youngest sister is suffering from anemia. She needs urgent medication.”

  “Then she should go to the clinic.”

  “The clinics are corrupt, Razeen,” she shouted, allowing all the pent-up emotion she was holding close, to erupt into anger. “Don’t you know that?”

  “Medicine is accessible to those in need. There are laws.”

  “Laws that don’t work.”

  He shook his head. “Ridiculous.”

  “If you or your assistants went and spoke to the people once in a while you might know that. It would cost them a month’s earnings—which they don’t have saved—to buy the medicine. The disease is rife—the iron in the bread they make is inaccessible because it’s rich in phytates: too many phytates, no iron. The women breastfeed exclusively for too long and are only just getting by, themselves.” She was shaking with rage and frustration, furious at him for so many things. Tears gathered in her eyes but she had to continue. “Aakifah’s sister needs a doctor.” She pressed a piece of paper with the address into Razeen’s hand. “Urgently.”

  He pressed his lips together for control, but control of what—anger at her, frustration at his government—she couldn’t tell. “I’ll make sure she gets help.”

  “Thank you.” She rose to go.

  “Lucy, where are you going?”

  She didn’t turn round. “To my room.”

  “I’ll see you later.”

  “No. It’s over.” He was beside her in a second, forcing her to turn to him. “Razeen, don’t you understand? You wanted me to trust you. I did. But you didn’t trust me with the truth, did you? You didn’t ever mention you were to be married; never said anything about a fiancée visiting you within a week of our making love. Did you think it would spoil the ambience?” She couldn’t prevent the bitterness creeping into her words. “Did you think I’d say ‘no’? Well, I would have said ‘no’ because it’s not fair on her; not fair on the woman who is pledging her life to you. How do you think she’d feel if she knew her fiancée-to-be had been sleeping with someone? No doubt you’ll find out when she discovers our relationship. You’ve hardly kept it a secret.”

  “I deserve all you say. But you misunderstand Neelam. Of course she knows. And she thinks none the worse of me for it. Her father has three wives. She wouldn’t expect me to marry more than once, but neither would she expect fidelity.”

  Lucy shook her head. “I don’t believe that. All women want fidelity. No woman wants to share her man with anyone else.”

  “Is that how you feel?”

  “Your twisting my words. I—”

  “I want you to attend dinner.” She watched as his face hardened, as he became the King once more. “You will be at dinner. You will dine with us and you will see Neelam. Perhaps then you will understand.”

  She gasped. “No, I will not.”

  “You will be there. If you’re not there at eight, I will come to you, throw you over my shoulder and take you there like the primitive man you appear to think I am.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Try me.” He raised his eyebrows in an unsmiling question that she didn’t answer. The air between them sizzled with anger and something else she dare not contemplate.

  She turned and left the room without a further word.

  Lucy slipped into the seat reserved for her in a corner of the huge dining room. Only a few people looked at her knowingly. She’d been positioned where she could watch and listen to Neelam easily and, more disconcertingly, Razeen could watch Lucy easily. She sensed Razeen had noted her arrival but he didn’t meet her eyes. For the hundredth time that evening she wondered if she should have come. It wasn’t Razeen’s threat that made her turn up. She’d be gone in a few days and she needed to know, needed to see with her own eyes the woman Razeen would be marrying.

  And Aakifah was right. Neelam was beautiful. Large, wide eyes and a perfect oval face framed by lustrous dark hair. Lucy bit her lip and concentrated on her food. What the hell had she been thinking? Why would Razeen ever want her when he could have someone like Neelam: beautiful, well connected and wealthy.

  Lucy sipped a spoonful of soup and glanced around. There were no burkhas, abayas, scarves or hijabs tonight: only expensive Parisian and London fashions that showcased their wealth. The colors and cut stones sparkled in the light. It made Lucy sick inside thinking of Aakifah and her family needing essential medicine while Razeen was sucked into this world of remote luxury. It wasn’t him. She knew that and yet he’d been persuaded that was what was required.

  She looked at Neelam once more. She was looking down, listening to the young women who sat beside her, talking of the latest fashions. Lucy felt her resentment mount at the inane chatter and then Neelam glanced up and caught her gaze. Instantly Lucy could see that Neelam knew who she was. But there was no anger, no jealousy in her eyes. Instead she nodded briefly and smiled hesitantly. Neelam’s eyes were kind and they were also intelligent. Lucy returned the smile, awkwardly and turned away first. She felt awful, as if she’d betrayed Neelam. But, more than that, she was angry with Razeen for putting her in this position.

  Suddenly she was aware of Razeen’s eyes upon her. She didn’t meet them but focused on her dinner and toyed with her food. She’d never been less hungry and yet the food was sumptuous. Luckily the person she sat next to was more interested in her other companions and she was left to her own devices. She had no option but to listen to Neelam’s friends’ chatter, while Neelam herself remained silent.

  By the end of the first course, Lucy just hoped Neelam wasn’t like her friends because if she was, there would be no help for those people of Sitra who needed it. She glanced angrily at Razeen. He sipped his water and met her gaze levelly. It was as if he read her thoughts. In which case why the hell didn’t he understand that Neelam might be of the correct elite to satisfy his
traditional advisors but she was too young, too distant and, if her friends were anything to go by, too shallow to help him bring his country into the modern day?

  Lucy couldn’t take any more and, despite a warning glance from Razeen, she rose and quickly slipped away.

  Lucy lay awake listening to the silence that had hung over the old, domestic wing of the palace all evening. She listened to the water running through the rills and channels outside in the garden and wondered how the hell her world had shattered quite so spectacularly in the space of one week.

  It was as if the winds of the khamseen had whisked through her life disabling first the fixed compass point of Maia, from whom she’d always been able to work out her bearings. And, second, cracking open the strength on which she’d always relied, to reveal a vulnerability, a heart, that had been trampled on by a man who’d proclaimed himself to be someone she could trust. He may have been right about trusting him with her life, with anything, other than her heart that he’d taken and crushed.

  She turned over in bed, trying to find a less heated part and was suddenly aware of another sound above the sound of water. It was the sound of feet walking toward her room. She froze. No servants passed these guest quarters. She glanced at the door and was relieved to remember she’d locked it. There was a knock but she didn’t answer. She lay in the warm, heated dark and listened to her heart pound, wanting, desperately wanting the man she knew to be the other side but knowing if she answered the door, she’d lose the strength she needed to carry on.

 

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