My Desert Rose

by Kalia Lewis

  Tariq ran a hand through his hair. That sounded really bad. Katie must have told them the truth. "At first it was to do with catching Hassan, and then..." He really didn't know what to say. If the truth was known, he'd just wanted her, so he took her without even considering her needs or even stopping to look at what she'd painstakingly built in her life.

  "And then what?" his mother asked him sharply.

  "And then, oh, I don't know, and then she came to mean more to me than anything."

  His mother's face softened slightly and then the hardness returned with a vengeance as she looked straight at him. "Do you love her?"

  "Yes, but I don't know how to make it right." This is what kept him awake at night. How do you start again? How do you go back to the beginning and build trust without getting caught up in all the past history?

  "You let her go," was his mother's soft reply.

  Panic so great inside of him caused his heart to palpitate, "What do you mean by let her go?"

  His mother reached out and put her hand to his cheek, searching deeply into his eyes. "Let me ask you something, Tariq, my first-born son. Do you consider what you did as theft?"

  "Theft?" he echoed.

  She patted his cheek affectionately. "Yes, theft. Perhaps not on the same level as Hassan, but theft nonetheless. Hassan can't bring back the people he's had murdered under our family name, but you can give Katie her life back."

  Mortification so deep plagued his heart. Had he stolen her life? Yes he had. On that jet he'd basically forced her to go through with the marriage under the guise of, 'You help me and I'll reward you by giving you your father'. How could he have done that? How could he have held back information about her father in order to get what he wanted? That wasn't love, that was manipulation, and yes, it was theft. If he'd had a heart, he would've given the information about her father freely and he would've taken great joy in them being reunited. Instead, he'd used that information for power. "I don't think she'll ever forgive me and if she does, I don't know if she'll trust me to never manipulate her again."

  Selina nodded her head. "On that note, I'm going to leave you with the reality of what you've done. Under Sharia law, the marriage will be annulled under the principle of it not being consummated. The papers will be delivered to you today. These papers are proof that you have released each other from any agreement that you may have had. I will personally see to it that Katie never again wants for anything material in her life. She will never have to stoop so low into thinking that she has no power over her choices."

  His mother left with Miriam following her, but before closing the door, Miriam looked over her shoulder at him and stuck out her tongue.

  The shock of what he'd done was finally sinking in. Not only had he manipulated her, he'd put her life in danger. Do you do that to the person you love? After the incident, he was hoping that they would build a proper relationship, but he realised that you can't build something with manipulation as its foundation. So, what now? How do you let someone go? How do you let your heart walk out of the door? How do you shut down the flow of love from your soul and slam it back into a tiny box? Putting his fingers to the bridge of his nose, he squeezed his eyes shut to prevent tears from seeping out of the corners. Taking a piece of paper, he decided to write her a letter.

  Some minutes later, a gentle knock came at his door. "Enter," he called, as he sealed the letter in an envelope and put it in his desk drawer.

  Thebes entered first. "Sheikh Allah Turan, Sayyid."

  From behind Thebes came a tall thin man with silver hair and a trim white beard. There was a slightly haunted look about him, but his hazel eyes were twinkling with excitement. Tariq stood up, came around the desk and kissed each cheek of his current father-in-law. "Assalamu alaykum," he said in Muslim greeting.

  "Wa alaykum us salaam," replied Allah Turan in a firm voice.

  Although Allah was past his physical prime, there was also a quiet power about him. "I'm so glad you came."

  Allah looked around the office. "Where is she?"

  Tariq noted his eagerness. "She's through that door, but before you go in there, there's something you should know."

  "I know all about what you've done." A storm of emotion crossed over Allah's face, then as quick as it arrived, it disappeared. "But I too am not without sins. If I'd not met you in Turkey when you came looking for me and felt your genuine care for her, I would now be considering how to punish you. I nearly lost her before I'd found her again. As it is, there's too much suffering in the world, so just take me to her."

  Tariq sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he really hadn't been in anyone's good books lately. Knowing that she didn't want to see him, Tariq gestured to the door and watched as Sheikh Allah Turan walked through it.

  ****

  Katie was resting her head against the back of the sofa watching the blue skyline outside the patio window. A week ago today, she'd been running through corridors and watching a man fall to his death from a roof. She was glad Cecil was dead. Did that make her a bad person? Probably, but she strongly felt that the world was a better place without him. Since arriving back, she'd gathered more details on Cecil from the police. Apparently, Cecil was the ring leader of many pirate ships and was wanted in connection with several murders and rapings. Most of his recruits were petty thieves and criminals. They'd spent five years terrorising boats off the coast of Africa. Over the course of the last few days, the detective in charge had told her that many of Cecil's men had confessed about Hassan and Amira's involvement. Katie had asked for information about the young man on the bridge, but so far she'd heard nothing.

  It had taken her a while to sift through all the shock and assimilate the reality of how she could've been shot, raped and even murdered. Miriam had prevented so much of that from happening with her reactions and ability to think quickly. It should've been her protecting Miriam. Somehow, she felt as though she'd let her down.

  Tears began to fall freely down her face again. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop them from forming. Logic told her that they'd got out unscathed and everything was okay now, but the whole thing seemed to have knocked a twenty-two year old lump of grief loose. Even though it was painful, she could also feel something inside shifting. The black hole of yearning that had followed her everywhere seemed to be abating. By facing Cecil and not backing down, it had somehow given her some sort of closure. These were goodbye tears. It was bizarre, but that's how she felt.

  Contemplating closures also brought her back to the problem of Tariq. When he'd shown up on that roof, she'd nearly collapsed with relief. Once he had taken her in his arms, she'd wanted to dive into him and stay there for the rest of her life. The confirmation of that need came when he'd told her he loved her. Right there and then she would have given him the world, yet something had still not settled inside of her. There was an inner restlessness, as though she felt trapped somehow. His parents and Miriam had been huge pillars of support, allowing her to stay here and heal, even though they knew the truth about their marriage.

  One of the main reasons for not seeing Tariq was because she didn't want him to confuse her mind. She knew he wanted to make a go of this marriage. It would be easy for her to fall into his ideas of what their life should be like, where they should live and how they would live, but she had some requirements of her own. There were things about her life in England that she loved and she didn't want to lose her identity again in someone else's world. The thought of not going back there really bothered her. Even her aunt and uncle hadn't known what had been going on. She'd finally spoken to them after everything had happened. They'd been in shock and wanted to fly out to see her, but she just needed this time to herself. Today, she was supposedly meeting her father for the first time since she was six. It felt like the old adage, 'You have to see it to believe it'. Once this was over, she would be flying home.

  The door to Tariq's office opened. Turning to face the door, she could see Tariq in the background
leaning on his desk. Sadness was seeping out of him and her heart jolted. Quickly, she looked away before the urge to run to him overthrew all of her logical thoughts from the last week. It wasn't until a man spoke that she actually realised someone had entered the room.

  "Merciful Allah," a pained voice whispered from across the room.

  Katie whipped her head around to look at the tall thin man. The tone and its softness drew forth something familiar from the deep recesses of her mind. She'd know that voice anywhere. A feeling of utter joy threatened to choke her. "Papa?" It was just too much to hope that Tariq had been telling her the truth, that her father had survived that day.

  "You look just like your mother."

  His voice was shaky and he was holding onto the back of a dining chair for support, but it was his eyes that had captured her attention. The same hazel ones that had looked at her countless times as a child, and now they were shining with unshed tears. "It's not possible," she breathed. A wave of feeling so deep rose into her chest and expanded it. It was too much to take in all at once. Rising from the sofa she took a step forward. "Is it really you?" she whispered past the growing lump in her throat.

  "I'm so sorry," was all he said, as he too took a step forward.

  Reaching out, she tentatively touched his hand and lifted it from his side to look at the back of it, and there it was, a freckle in the shape of a heart. A sob broke from somewhere deep down inside of her and then she was touching his face, his hair, as he was doing to her. This was her papa, they hadn't taken his life.

  Now openly sobbing, she rested her cheek against his chest and let out all of the unshed grief, pain and hurt. Gently, he guided her to the sofa.

  "There, there, Katarina, my daughter."

  To hear him call her name felt like the sun had burst through the clouds. "But I thought you'd died," she choked out between sobs.

  There was a raw sadness in his voice. "There have been many times over the years when I wished I had, but they found a pulse, took me to a safe place and revived me. We let the world think I'd died along with your mother, you and our unborn son."

  "People thought I'd died?" She was shocked.

  "Yes, it was the only way we could guarantee your safety. There were many fundamental extremists who turned up that day. They pulled up in their jeeps, raided the house, shot at anything that moved. Not one of them could say for sure whether you were there or not."

  "Is that why you never came for me?" It was the question she'd wanted to ask since Tariq had told her about her father. If he was still alive, then why hadn't he come for her?

  "Yes, even now if I'm discovered I'll be a wanted man, a prize for them to show off to the world. If they had known about you," he sucked in a deep breath, "I just couldn't have lived with myself. The only peace I've felt has been from knowing you were safe. Living in a small, safe world, where you were unknown."

  Everything suddenly made sense. This sweet man, her father, had loved her enough to give her up for her own safety. "But, where did you go?"

  There was a smile in his voice, "I have many friends and I have moved about a lot over the years. Much of my work for peace is undercover and I've been very well protected."

  There was another question which she'd wondered about since finding out her father was still alive. "Why now? Why connect with me now if nothing much has changed?"

  He patted her hand. "That was Tariq's doing. Once he'd found your name change in the British records, he set out to track me down. It wasn't easy for him, as there is an impenetrable wall of influential people who are protecting me, but he got through by saying that you were engaged to be his wife. I allowed a meeting to be set up. Tariq guaranteed me your safety over here in Socotra." He scoffed. "But obviously his word was not true. You were put into terrible danger."

  "Papa, it's not all his fault. I didn't listen to my inner hunches. I trusted Amira and that was my downfall." Secretly, she was quite pleased about the lengths Tariq had gone to in order to find her father, but then she mentally kicked herself. He hadn't done it for her, he'd done it for himself. "So, what happens now?"

  A wide smile spread across his face. "Now we make up for lost time. I am here for three days. After that, we shall have to play it by ear. I cannot guarantee you any safety in Turkey, nor can I travel to England, but there are other places that we can meet, such as here or even in Egypt."

  Katie sighed. Her joy in having her father back was immeasurable and she didn't care as to what lengths she'd need to go to in order to see him. "I too will be leaving in three days, to go back to England." She'd just made an impulsive decision and it felt right. The thought of leaving Tariq did cause a flutter to occur in her belly, but this marriage was a sham and she wanted her life back.

  Hazel eyes met her blue ones and her father smiled knowingly at her. "If you're sure that's what you want to do?"

  "I'm sure." She gulped. Something akin to loss once again settled itself around her heart.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was the evening of her last day. The last few days she and her father had spent most of their time together walking and talking about everything. There was an ease inside, a certain freedom that she hadn't felt since she was young. Not wanting to forget a single moment, she'd captured as much as she could with her camera, including pictures of everyone else, apart from Tariq. Since her glimpse of him in the office the other day, he'd apparently left on business, which confirmed her feelings that she was doing the right thing by going home.

  Now she was in a bit of a panic. Tomorrow, she was leaving. Even though Selina had wanted to give her all the clothes and jewellery she'd acquired since being here, she'd flatly refused and her intention was to wear the gold maid of honour dress for the journey home. The only thing she'd accepted was a coat and her Van pumps. The problem was how would she get through customs without her passport? In the limo, it had been in Tariq's breast pocket. It also made her wonder how he'd got an unconscious, gagged and bound woman through security? Perhaps his money and power had seen them through, but still, he must surely have it somewhere?

  The only place left to search was his office. Knowing he wasn't around helped. Opening the door and stepping in, she could smell his scent. It took her breath away and made her realise just how much she'd missed him, but she couldn't turn back now.

  Opening the top drawer of his desk, she rummaged around. It wasn't there. The next two drawers down didn't yield any goods either. Yanking open the bottom drawer, she stopped when she saw the cream envelope with her name on it. Taking it out, she turned it over in her hands. Something thick was in there. Using the letter opener on the desk, she slit the envelope open. Inside was her passport. A surge of relief made her belly flip over, but there was also a folded piece of paper - a letter. Unfolding it, she began to read.

  Dear Katie.

  There was a little tug in her heart. What, no Katarina, no little moheet, just Katie. Right there and then, she knew this was a goodbye letter, she could feel it.

  There's so much that I want to say to you, so many words of sorry. I took without asking. I was selfish, but I won't lie to you, I wanted you, no, I needed you, just as the desert needs the rain.

  Katie drew in a deep breath. At least he was sorry, even if it was a bit clichéd, but no-one had ever needed her in this way before. Pulling at the chair behind her, she sat down to read the rest.

  There's a story in my family that is passed down from father to son, to teach him what true love is. In the middle of the Socotra desert grows a rare rose. It is golden in colour with pink tips. It is said that if a man's heart is true and the woman he has chosen to marry is his other half, then he will pass the hardest trials to find the desert rose.

  First, he has to trek across the desert in the season of the winds. Sand tornados assail him and he risks falling into quicksand with every step he takes. When he sleeps, deadly snakes and poisonous spiders seek him out and during the day he is hunted by mountain cats that scavenge for food. If he h
as not located the rose within three weeks, his heart is not true and he has to return home empty-handed and the marriage does not take place.

  If he finds the rose, then his heart is true, but if the rose dies before he arrives home, then the woman is not his other half and the marriage will be filled with strife. Only a golden rose in full bloom and alive is a sign that he has taken great care of the gift bestowed upon him and that she is his eternal desert rose. The marriage will be filled with love and consideration for each other's needs.

  My heart was not true Katie. I was too greedy for you and I manipulated everything. I've had to take a good hard look at myself and I haven't liked what I've seen, but I believe there's still a small piece of my soul intact, because I feel deeply that you are the one. It was I who failed you. I may have found the rarest rose in the desert, but I snapped it off by its stalk without digging to find its root, without nurturing it and caring for it.

  Katarina Turan - a rare golden desert rose of such exquisite beauty, with an inner love as vast as the blue ocean, my little moheet. I love you enough to let you go. To let you take root, grow and blossom wherever the winds of life may take you and maybe one day you'll come to me. You'll come to me of your own free will.

  Tariq

  Tears streamed down her face. Now she knew why there was a golden rose with pink petals laid as the insignia in the marble floor of the entrance foyer. Malik had also dedicated the desert rose to Selina. For generations, the men of Tariq's family had been seeking their equal in love. Nothing else would do and that's what Tariq was trying to tell her, that he would no longer take her against her will. Over and over, she read his words. Like her father, he'd loved her enough to let her go. Whether he was consciously aware of it or not, he'd just given her the greatest gift of all, her freedom. Relief and yet deep sadness filled her being. Kidnapping her from the wedding had been wrong. Forcing her to marry him on sentimental grounds had been wrong. Withholding information about her father had been wrong, but his heart was true, he just didn't know it yet. Hadn't he risked his life to save hers? Folding the letter and putting it back in the envelope, she decided to take it with her. Moving to close the drawer, her eye caught another envelope with her name on it. This one was more official looking.