Egyptian Honeymoon (11 page)

He turned his head, and said casually, as if nothing had passed between them:

'I'm afraid I must leave you this evening. I've got to try to contact London and it may take a long time.'

That tiresome take-over that was absorbing him. Noelle was disappointed; she had hoped he would suggest dinner at the hotel which would be a change from meals on board, but she knew business was paramount with him, and she must accept it. She only prayed he was not using it as an excuse to avoid her company.

'That's all right with me,' she said listlessly.

'I've ascertained your friends the Bates are dining on the ship. I've asked them to look after you.'

'How very thoughtful of you,' she said sarcastically, wondering if he had appointed the elderly couple as guardians to prevent her slipping off with Omar, but he had not seemed to be very put out about her acquaintanceship with the Arab, and Omar would have gone ashore.

'Don't sit up late,' he went on. 'We have to make an early start tomorrow, so you'll need your sleep. I'm taking you to the Valley of the Kings.'

'Alone?' she asked doubtfully, fearing Marcia would be going with them.

'Quite alone, with a specially hired guide. Did you want your desiccated Colonel to be included in the party?'

'Of course not.' Noelle's face was radiant. Perhaps all her fears were groundless. Steve had arranged this expedition to please her and she would be alone with him all day. Perhaps it would be possible to come to a better understanding with him away from Marcia's pervasive influence.

'Good. I'll see you in the morning, then. Wear trousers, they're the best garments for scrambling about in tombs. So long.'

He went into his cabin to collect his briefcase, and Noelle ran down to the next deck and along the balcony until she reached a spot overlooking the gangway. Passengers were going ashore in twos and threes, chattering gaily. Few wanted to stay on the ship now they had a chance to stretch their legs. Noelle would have liked to join them, but she knew it would be foolish to wander about alone at night in a strange city. Presently she saw what she had come for. Steve came striding out of the ship on to the gangway. He had changed his blazer for a beige linen jacket and carried his case. He looked every inch the purposeful executive. Women, Noelle thought sadly, were only a very minor distraction to him. The sailors at the foot of the gangway saluted and Noelle caught a glimpse of his smiling face, as he exchanged some quip with them. For all his authoritative air, Steve had the common touch.

Noelle drew a long breath as she watched his tall, lean figure disappear into the miscellaneous crowd on the quayside. The inevitable street vendors were there with their monotonous chant—'Only one… two… three… dollars,' as the case might be. A man among men, she thought, and wondered that she could have been so blind to his worth. He had told her once that she should be proud that he had chosen to marry her, and for the first time she was. He was totally different from Hugh, who had been almost feminine in his intuitions. She could not expect the same rapport from Steve, who was so very masculine. She did not want it, she was feminine enough to be willing to submit to his mastery. Somehow she must detach him from Marcia and make her marriage work.

As if on cue, Marcia appeared on the gangway, wearing a long evening dress. The lights turned her red head to fire, and jewels gleamed at her throat and ears. A man and a woman came to greet her, people Noelle had never seen before, thereby confirming that she had spoken the truth when she said her friends were meeting her at Luxor. Noelle felt guilty that she had doubted her… and Steve.

Marcia's high shrill voice floated up to her.

'So lovely to see you! Steve will meet us at the Luxor Hotel. He had to go on ahead.'

So that was why Steve was going to be late back, if he returned at all. Noelle smiled bitterly. The expedition on the morrow was a sop offered to a deserted wife to square his conscience for leaving her tonight. All too probably, at the last moment, she would find that Marcia and her friends had been included in the excursion, when she had used her persuasions on him. Not that he would need much persuading. Noelle stared blindly at the lights of the town. If Steve had not exactly lied to her, he had done so by implication. He had no scruples about lying to a woman.

She felt a touch on her shoulder and turning, found Omar ben Ahmed beside her. She stared at him a little blankly, for she had been certain that he would have gone ashore. He was smiling insinuatingly, and she hoped he had not been there to hear Marcia's words.

'Will you come and have dinner with me?' he asked. 'I know a very nice place in Luxor right off the tourist track. It will be more amusing than staying here on your own.'

Noelle's first impulse was to accept, but her years as a model had taught her caution. Men had often propositioned her with invitations to private residences, and Omar's intentions were probably similar to what theirs had been. Much as she would have liked to spite Steve by going out with him, and possibly encountering Steve and Marcia in the Arab's company, she knew it would be extremely unwise. So she thanked him for his kind thought and told him she would not be alone as she had promised to dine with the Bates.

Omar's dark brows went up. 'That old couple! I thought the ladies of the West had dispensed with chaperones.'

'It's not that at all,' she said quickly, though she had a shrewd idea that that had been Steve's intention. Her elderly friends presented no threat to her integrity. Though he preferred Marcia's company to hers, he would not permit any sideslipping upon her part, as he had told her. Caesar's wife must be beyond reproach, though Caesar himself might… and did… stray.

'I like the Bates and I can't disappoint them.'

To her surprise he suggested: 'In that case perhaps they would come with you' He gave her a sly glance. 'The jealous husband could not then disapprove. My friend Suleiman has a very original house here, which, as he is away, he has placed at my disposal, and I wish very much for you to see it. Your friends too will enjoy a change. The Colonel has been in the East, he will appreciate it.'

Noelle still hesitated, though she wanted very much to go. Steve, she felt sure, would be angry, but she did not owe him any consideration after the way he had treated her.

'It's wonderful of you to offer, but…'

'Come, we will go and ask them,' Omar interrupted, and led the way into the ship. If the Bates refused, that would settle it, and she did not expect they would accept.

Colonel Bates was an Anglophile, he had no use for foreigners, be they princes or stevedores, and he looked suspiciously at Omar ben Ahmed, when he gave his invitation.

'We had arranged to dine on the ship,' he began stiffly, when he caught Noelle's appealing glance and his wife's wistful expression. They had scraped up enough money for this Nile trip which they considered to be a last fling before they settled down to retirement, but they had nothing to spare for extras. It would be a treat for Mary, and her husband had left that nice little Mrs Prescott high and dry when he went ashore bent upon his own diversions. She was a deuced pretty woman and it was a shame the way he neglected her. He changed his tone.

'Well, it's very civil of you, I'm sure, and the ladies will enjoy an outing.'

Mary Bates, all of a flutter, said she must change her dress, and Noelle did likewise. They reappeared, Noelle in blue nylon draped over a silk underslip, Mrs Bates in black lace. The Colonel had been already wearing his dinner jacket.

It was only when they were seated in the hired car that Omar told them that they were not going to the Luxor Hotel, for Noelle had left it to him to tell them. The Colonel looked doubtful.

'That all right by you, Mrs Prescott?'

He had never got round to using her first name, though his wife did.

'Oh yes, Mr ben Ahmed says it's unique, and I'm longing to see it.'

The old gentleman looked a little uneasy, and muttered something about hoping that the wog wasn't up to some monkey trick, which Omar, seated beside the chauffeur, luckily did not hear, and Mary hurriedly hushed him. She was full of enthusiasm for such an unexpected pleasure. Omar told them:

'I am most grateful for your honoured company. I could not have taken Mrs Prescott alone, of course, and I very much wanted to show her Suleiman's house. You will all be most impressed.'

From the outside the place was nothing remarkable, a square white building, its high walls window-less, but inside it was fabulous.

The ground floor rooms all opened on to a square courtyard in the centre of the building, in the middle of which was a stone basin with a fountain. The basin was filled with blue lotus lilies and fragrant bushes in pots filled the air with sweetness. Omar had told them his friend was eccentric and crazy about Ancient Egypt; the room they were shown into bore this out.

It was open on one side to the courtyard, but the other three lofty walls were covered with paintings copied from those in the royal tombs. They depicted various activities of Egyptian life, ploughing, sowing, hunting and fowling. In the centre of each wall was a long oval shaped like a cartouche, enclosing the effigy of a god. There was Amon-re, with his tall feathered headdress, Osiris wearing the double crown of Upper and Lower Egypt, which Noelle privately thought looked like an urn stuck in a saucepan, and the hawk-headed Horus, son of Isis.

Across the domed ceiling was a huge female figure, with her feet on the top of one wall, her head on the opposite one—Nut, the goddess of the sky. The doorway into the house was between two pillars, engraved with hieroglyphics, their capitals decorated with papyrus plant buds, as are the ones in the colonnade of the temple at Luxor. The furniture, also copied from that found in the tombs, comprised chairs and tables, ornately carved and inset with gold. The couch was an Egyptian bed, with cow-shaped ends, their heads forming the arms, and between their horns, the moon disc, emblem of Hathor, goddess of love.

The Colonel stared at it all with astonishment.

'We hardly need to go sightseeing, Mary,' he exclaimed. 'The whole of Egypt is here.'

'In miniature,' said Omar, indicating they should be seated. 'Wine?' He clapped his hands and a servant ran in salaaming. 'Or do you prefer spirits?' He knew the Colonel liked whisky.

Colonel Bates looked surprised. 'Spirits? Here?'

'Suleiman's cellar is stocked to please every visitor, though he and I abstain.' Omar caught Noelle's eye. 'At least when I'm on Arab soil.'

When they had all been served, Noelle and Mary choosing innocuous tomato juice, Omar begged to be excused for a moment. They sat in silence overwhelmed by their surroundings, then the Colonel said, a propos the absent Suleiman:

'Crazy fellow, but by Jove, he must have some cash!'

Omar returned wearing Arab dress.

'It is,' he explained, 'so much more comfortable.'

The long kaftan with its jewelled belt, flowing cloak and striped, corded headdress, became him. The garb was far more romantic than his Western clothes, and Noelle felt sure he knew it.

Mary Bates said, 'Ah, now you're in the picture. How fine you look!'