Charis (8 page)

“How can you be both?”

“My father was a prince, the son of King Mushtaq, and brother of the
current King, but my mother is English and I was born and raised in England. My
father died before I was two and I didn't come to Qumrai and the Middle East
until I was twelve. But whenever I come to visit my family here, I get the
royal treatment.” He paused for a moment, then went on. “I need to introduce
you to your future husband. Doctor Benjamin Joseph Sinclair, newly qualified
consultant gynaecologist and obstetrician and newest partner at the St. Anne's
hospital and centre for Women's Health.”

The silence was so deep that Charis could hear her own heart beating.
She assumed Ben could, too, because after a minute he reminded her, “You
promised. In a heartbeat you said. You promised to marry me as long as I wasn't
a prince and as I live most of my life in England where I’m a doctor and most
definitely
not
a prince, I would respectfully remind you that doctor was
on the list of those you said you'd marry…in a heartbeat.” Still she didn't
speak so he asked her again, “Charis, love of my life, will you marry me?”

Tears of happiness welled up in her eyes and she managed to whisper,
“Yes, oh yes.”

He kissed her very gently and quietly enjoyed the sweetness of the
moment, unwilling to spoil the magic of it all. Ben finally said, “We need to
make plans,” but still they lay, reluctant to spoil the moment. Several minutes
ticked by before Ben spoke again. “Plans!” It was a voice of authority but
instead of making plans, Charis asked him to explain in more detail about his
family; his father and his mother.

“My grandfather, my English grandfather, was Joseph Sinclair, a senior
official in the Foreign Office, and after his wife died my mother Emily, who
was in her early twenties, used to occasionally accompany him to official
functions. That’s how she met my father, Ali Ibrahim el Hussein. He was in
London representing his father, the King of Qumrai. They were immediately attracted
to each other and before long he asked her to marry him. Her first inclination
was to say no. Not only did she refuse to go and live in Qumrai, but he already
had two wives. So he promised her that he would return home, divorce his
current wives and return to live in England, and that’s what he apparently did.
He had official documents to prove that his divorces had been finalised and the
King gave him an assignment at the Embassy in London. As he already had a few
children, my mother agreed that he should return and visit them two or three
times a year. Things were fine for a few years. After they had been married for
about two years, my sister was born and eighteen months after that my mother discovered
she was pregnant again, with me. That was when she received an unsigned letter
from someone, supposedly from one of my father's other wives, telling her that
he’d  never divorced either of them and had in fact, taken a fourth wife since
being married to my mother and had also fathered several more children. When my
mother confronted him with the letter, it was obvious to her that what she’d
read was true, so she began legal proceedings against him and he went home in
somewhat of a hurry because he could have been arrested for bigamy. He never
came back so their marriage was annulled and she reverted to her maiden name
and in due course I was born. My father died before I turned two and a few
years later my mother married a wonderful man; a widower with two children of
his own, and they had two more children together. My childhood was actually
pretty idyllic. We were, we are, all very happy and very close.

“The King always stayed in close contact with my mother, especially
after the death of my father. It is perfectly legal for a man to have up to
four wives in their country and so I was considered a legitimate member of the
royal family, a prince, and when I was twelve I started making regular visits. They
lasted until I was seventeen when I began University and then onto my medical
studies. Until two weeks ago, I hadn't been back. The old King, my grandfather,
died a few years ago. The current King is my father's older brother and he used
to visit us at home in England on occasion so I knew him quite well. When he invited
me I felt I had to come, so as soon as I completed my training I arranged to
take a leave of absence and came over for a short visit. This trade agreement
thing had just come up and he asked me to represent him in the negotiations because
Ravi is my cousin - our grandmothers were sisters. And so here I am!”

“Where exactly is Qumrai?” Charis asked.

“On the Gulf,” he replied. “North of Dubai. Just a small country. If
you blink when you drive through you could miss it. It’s very rich in oil, a
pro-western country but very much a traditional Islamic country. The king rules
the country with an iron fist, although in a velvet glove! A rather benevolent
despot if you like,” he grinned.

There was another question that Charis wanted to ask. She felt
hesitant but finally blurted it out. “Why gynaecology and obstetrics?”

“Well, it wasn't always first on my list of specialties I’d considered.
Not on my list at all actually. I was going to be a brilliant brain surgeon or
find a miracle cure for cancer or diabetes or something like that. But when I
started training in the hospital I found there were things I couldn't be happy
doing all the time. I couldn't be a paediatrician, for example, because I got
too involved with the patients and couldn't bear to see the children suffering.
I cared too much. And when I worked in A&E I got so ticked off at all the
drunks and the accidents that they caused. I didn't care enough about them! Then
when I worked on the adult wards, the men would wind me up.”

He paused and then asked, “You've heard of man flu?” She nodded and
smiled. “Well, it's all true, you know. The men are such babies! Worse
actually! No one has ever had whatever it is they're suffering from as badly as
they have, and they moan and groan about it
all
the time. The women just
get on with it and there's only one specialty that deals only with women. I
found that not only did I enjoy it, but I was good at it too. Plans!” insisted
Ben again, changing the subject. “If you're going to become Mrs. Sinclair we
need to make plans!”

“Oh dear! Mrs. Sinclair! I'm not sure about that. I rather fancied
being Mrs. Blogs!” Charis giggled.

”Yes, well if I'm Dr Sinclair you have to be Mrs. Sinclair,” he
firmly stated and Charis suddenly burst into peals of laughter. “Now what?”
asked Ben.

“Doctor Sinclair! I knew I'd heard your name before! You're the
dishy doctor!”

“I'm the what?” he exclaimed, his voice registering shock, disgust
and slight amusement.

“The dishy doctor. You're Helen's doctor aren't you?”

“Helen?” he queried.

“Yes, James' wife. Helen Barrington Smythe.”

“He's your trustee?” 

Charis nodded.

“Yes, I'm her doctor. She’s never called me the dishy doctor!”

“No,
she
didn't but her friends did. I took a gift for her
babies last month and she had a couple of friends visiting and they were
telling her how lucky she was to have such a dishy doctor, and they were saying
such
things about you.”

“Like what?” he demanded to know.

“How they'd heard you were the most fantastic lover and that you
were fabulous in bed and one of them said she'd leave her husband if you
crooked your little finger at her and stuff like that…stuff that I would be too
embarrassed to repeat. Helen told them off. She said they were shocking me and they
should be ashamed of themselves, and besides, they were both too old for you
anyway. She agreed you were exceptionally good looking and then said you were
an excellent doctor and a very nice, kind person but she was very happy with
her James, thank you.”

“Put all such thoughts behind you, young lady,” he said feeling
somewhat embarrassed. “It's getting late and we still have plans to make.” He
paused for a moment and then continued. “I've been thinking. I believe we have
three options for tomorrow. One. I take you home to London and then fly
straight back to Dubai. Two. You come with me to Dubai. Or three. You stay here
until I come back for you.”

“Not here! I couldn't stay here!” Charis’ voice registered real fear.

“No! Not right
here
. Not in this place,” he reassured her.
“But I could leave you in Cairo at the Embassy. I have friends there and you
could stay with them.” When Charis didn't reply he asked, “When will you marry
me?”

“Tomorrow if you like.”

“Tomorrow?” he queried, surprised.

“Why not?”

“It'll take longer than that to arrange a wedding.”

“I don't see why it should. All we need is you and me and someone to
say the words,” she whispered shyly.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” he said, and once again
she could hear the love in his voice. “You never cease to amaze me. Most girls
want a big wedding with all the trimmings. I know my sister's wedding took
months to plan and arrange.” 

“I don't care about the wedding,” she said. “I just want to be
married to you.”

“Well, I don't know how feasible it would be to get married
tomorrow. I assume you won't want an Islamic wedding?”  

“No, but isn't there an English church anywhere in Cairo?”

“There possibly could be, but I think that English law requires
either three weeks of calling of banns or seven days’ notice of intent to
marry. At least I think when my sister Elizabeth was married she had banns read
in church three weeks prior.” He thought for a minute and then asked, “What
about a civil wedding? Maybe at the British Embassy if it could be arranged? If
seven days’ notice
is
required, I could leave you there…safe in the care
of my friends, Gary and Joanne, you'll really like Joanne, while I zip off to
Dubai, then go to London, get all my business done with Graham, go and visit my
family and tell them our news and then come back. We could be married next
Saturday.”

So it was decided that they would go to the Embassy the following morning
and find out about the chances of getting married the next weekend. If not, Ben
would fly to Dubai for Sunday and come to Cairo first thing Monday and they'd
go on to London together.

Ben had been curious how long it would take Charis to realise that
he was indeed the first love of her life, Jennifer's brother, Ben. He thought
when she first saw him as he entered his room she had recognised him, but
because he’d spoken Arabic, and because of his name, first as a prince and now
as Sinclair, she’d been rather put off the scent, so to speak. He knew that she’d
been very familiar to him right from the first, and when she was talking about
her life some of the things she said rang little memory bells in his mind. But
the name Charis had confused him. He’d known her as Jane when she was a child. If
she hadn't spoken of Jennifer, and mentioned Sir Giles' name, he might possibly
still not know who she was. He decided it was time that she knew the truth.  

He began by asking, “Is there any reason that you don't want a big
wedding?”

“I suppose I'm being selfish really because you probably want your
family to be there but I have no one to invite. Well, maybe just a handful of
people.”

“Who then?”

“Well, James and Helen of course, and the Pattersons. Then the
Chandlers and the Ridleys. Maybe a few friends from school. And if I was having
such things as bridesmaids, I would ask Jennifer to be my bridesmaid.”

“What about her Mum and Dad?”

“Yes, maybe them too.”

“And that's it?” 

She nodded.

“Not Ben?” he asked, trying to feign innocent curiosity.

“No! He wouldn't be interested in coming. He'll have forgotten all
about me.”

“No, he most certainly has not,” he said, smiling at her and kissing
her lightly on the forehead.

“Ben, it was such a long time ago. He won't even remember me.”

“I can assure you that he certainly does remember you, and with a
great deal of love,” he insisted. 

She looked at him steadily, saw the expression on his face, was
quiet for a moment and then very hesitantly said, “Then I think perhaps he
won't be needing an invitation? I think…perhaps…he'll already be there?” It was
a question not a statement.

He held her a little tighter, smiled at her with such love and
tenderness that she could barely breathe. His voice broke a little as he whispered,
“There is no power on earth that could keep me away.”

Charis burst into tears.

When he decided she’d been crying long enough, he asked, “Are those
happy tears?”

She managed a nod and then asked, “When did you know?”

“When you talked about Jennifer and mentioned Sir Giles' name.”

“Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you tell me?”

“I'm sorry about that. Maybe I should have but I was already in love
with you by then and I wanted you to love me for me and not because of the
memories you had of me all those years ago.”

“And you let me say all those things about you! What you must have
thought of me.”