Heart of the Desert (4 page)

‘You’re disappointed.’ Georgie could tell.

‘No.’ Felicity shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I understand you felt you had to get away from home. I’m just sad you couldn’t tell me.’

‘I didn’t feel I could tell anyone at the time.’ Georgie admitted. ‘I haven’t told any of my friends. I just thought Mike … He seemed so solid, so mature …’ She looked over at her sister. ‘But it turned out he was a bully, like Dad—except he wore a suit and instead of beer it was expensive whisky. It only took a few weeks for me to come to my senses. I’m lucky …’

‘Lucky?’

‘A lot of women stay. I got out of it quickly. It just took a couple of years to face up to the paperwork and legalities and then another year of waiting. My divorce came through just as I was leaving for here. I’m finally free.’

‘You’ve been free for ages,’ Felicity said, but Georgie didn’t try to explain her feelings to her sister. How some principle had held her back, how until her divorce was through she hadn’t felt free to start dating, and in many ways it had been the healthiest thing for her—that time had taught her that she didn’t need a man to escape to, or run to. Everything she needed, she possessed already.

‘You won’t tell Mum.’

‘God, no!’ Felicity’s response was immediate. ‘And
don’t talk about it here, they just wouldn’t understand at all.’

‘Promise me that you won’t tell anyone.’ The intimate conversation was interrupted. Headlights flooded the lounge with light. The sound of a car unfamiliar to Georgie in the large grounds was followed by chatter and laughter and then the slam of a car door. There was the running of feet on the stone stairs and Felicity’s lips tightened.

‘He’s so inconsiderate. It was the same last time he was here.’ And when a wail came up over the intercom she pulled open the lounge door to address Ibrahim, who was talking loudly to a sleepy maid.

‘You’ve woken Azizah.’

‘Not necessarily.’ So effortlessly he slipped from Arabic to English. ‘I may be mistaken, but I’m sure I read somewhere that babies tend to wake in the night.’

Sarcasm suited him, it
so
suited him that Georgie let out a small giggle, but Ibrahim did not look at her. Instead he spoke to Felicity. ‘I’m sorry if I woke her … I forgot there is now a baby in the palace.’

‘There’ll be two soon!’ Felicity said. ‘So you’d better start remembering.’

‘No need. I’m flying back to London in a couple of days, before the palace turns into a crèche.’ As Felicity headed off to tend to her baby, he acknowledged Georgie, his voice distinctly cool when he did. ‘I was not expecting to see you here.’ Ibrahim said. ‘You never mentioned you were coming.’

‘Neither did you,’ Georgie pointed out.

‘Your flight?’ Ibrahim checked. ‘How was it?’ And something told her he was concerned that she
had
seen him, that she knew the sleek, poised man who had arrived in Zaraq had not been the man that left London, but Georgie chose not to tell.

‘Wonderful.’ Georgie said, but didn’t elaborate, and Ibrahim said nothing to fill the stretch of silence, just walked across the lounge and sat on the sofa opposite as a maid brought in his drink. She didn’t know what to say to him and he certainly wasn’t giving her any help. Georgie was relieved when her sister called from the stairs. ‘Georgie! Can you give me a hand with Azizah?’

‘I’ll say goodnight, then.’ He didn’t return the farewell, but she watched his jaw tighten when clearly she hadn’t jumped quickly enough and Felicity called to her again. As she walked past, Ibrahim caught her wrist. ‘That’s what maids are for.’ She looked down at his long fingers wrapped around her pale wrist and she wished he would drop the contact, wished he would not look up at her because her face was on fire. ‘Tell her you are taking refreshments with me.’

‘I’m happy to help my sister with Azizah.’

‘At one in the morning?’ Ibrahim said. ‘Does she have you on call all night?’ He watched her face burn, felt the hammer of her radial pulse beneath his fingers in response to his touch, and in that moment he could almost have forgiven her for rejecting him. He considered pulling her down onto his lap. ‘Join me.’ It wasn’t a request, Georgie knew that—it was a challenge.

‘I’m here to spend time with my sister and niece.’ He dropped her wrist and without another word she left the room and walked through the maze of the palace to join Felicity in the nursery where she had settled down to feed.

‘What kept you?’ Felicity asked as Georgie closed the door.

‘I was just talking to Ibrahim.’ Georgie kept her voice light.

‘Why?’ And there was challenge too in Felicity’s question, just a teeny call to arms, and Georgie refused to go there, choosing to tease instead.

‘Why wouldn’t I? It was either chat to a beautiful man or watch my sister breastfeed.’

To her credit, Felicity smiled.

‘He asked about my flight. I just said goodnight.’

‘Stay away from him,’ Felicity warned. ‘He’s trouble. I’ve seen how he treats women—he’d eat you alive and then spit out the pips.’

‘We were just saying goodnight!’ Georgie laughed, but Felicity would not relent.

‘He’s so arrogant. Strolls back unannounced and expects everyone to jump to his whims, swans around the palace without a care in the world.’ Georgie opened her mouth to interrupt because Ibrahim had looked far from carefree on the plane, but she decided against it, intuitively knowing Ibrahim wouldn’t want that information shared. ‘He’s completely spoilt!’ Felicity moaned on. ‘Way too used to getting his own way, though not for much longer.’

‘What do you mean?’ Georgie asked, but Felicity shook her head.

‘I’ve said too much.’

‘It’s me!’ Georgie pointed out. ‘And given what I told you earlier …’

‘Okay,’ Felicity relented, but, paranoid as ever, she had Georgie check and double-check that the intercom was turned off, then still spoke in a whisper. ‘The king’s had enough. Karim told me he’s going to be talking to Ibrahim tomorrow. He wants him back in Zaraq, he’s tired of his youngest son’s ways. Ibrahim was supposed to go to London to study engineering and then come back, but he’s finished his master’s now and there’s still no sign of him returning. Ibrahim’s working mainly from there and saying that he wants to continue with his studies, but the king wants him here.’

‘So, is he closing the open cheque book?’ Georgie struggled to keep her voice light.

‘He tried that a couple of years ago apparently.’ Felicity sighed. ‘And Ibrahim promptly went into business with one of Zaraq’s leading architects. A lot of that dazzling skyline is thanks to my brother-in-law’s brilliant brain. Ibrahim doesn’t actually need royal financial support.’

‘So how can he stop him?’ Georgie asked. ‘If Ibrahim doesn’t want to be here, how can his father force him?’

‘His father’s king,’ Felicity pointed out. ‘And Ibrahim, at the end of the day, is a royal prince and privilege comes with responsibility.’

‘You’re starting to sound like them!’ Georgie attempted a joke, but Felicity shook her head.

‘Look at all the work Karim does for the people. He’s out there now in the middle of the desert, working with sick people, while Ibrahim’s working his way along the bar at the casino like a tourist. Well, Ibrahim’s a prince and the king’s tired of waiting for him to act like one.’ Even though she was whispering, she still dropped her voice. ‘He’s going to be choosing a bride for him, whether he wants it or not. Soon Ibrahim’s going to be coming home for good.’

S
HE’D
slept too much on the plane and Georgie woke before sunrise, pulled the shutters open and properly surveyed her gorgeous room then climbed back into bed. After a moment’s deliberation, she did what Felicity had told her to if she wanted anything, anything at all, and picked up the bedside phone. It didn’t even ring once before it was answered, and in no time at all there was a tray laden with coffee and fruit and juices being delivered not just to her room but onto a bedside table. Her pillows were rearranged and Georgie cringed at the attention and wondered how Felicity could have so easily got used to it.

The coffee was too strong, too sweet and had an almost smoky flavour to it and she sipped it slowly, then chose to take her tray and enjoy the sight of the sun rising over the ocean.

Opening the French windows, she stepped out onto the balcony and watched the magical display—the sky lit up with pinks and oranges, the air warm on her skin. She was filled with a yearning to see a desert sunrise, to follow those warm fingers of light and see them awaken
all that was behind. But as much as Georgie wanted to witness the splendour, she knew that again this trip it would be unlikely—Felicity was very busy and wouldn’t want to leave little Azizah overnight.

One day she’d see it. Georgie told herself to be patient, but she was drawn to the magic Ibrahim had so readily dismissed, wanted to find out more for herself about the tales of the desert, to sample the food and inhale the oils, to see more of Zaraq than just the shops and the palace.

And then she saw him. A man on his horse. It could have been any of the brothers, from this distance it might even have been the king, but her heart told her it was Ibrahim. He certainly didn’t look like a man who was recovering from the previous night’s excess and not for the first time Georgie wondered if Felicity was mistaken about how Ibrahim spent his evenings. There was something about the speed of his riding, a combination of youth, vigor and power as he hurtled along the beach that told her it was him. He pulled up suddenly, patting the beast’s neck and guiding him to a slow walk in the water, and then he looked up and saw the sun glisten on the palace and saw Georgie watching him.

He did not acknowledge her, did not lift a hand to wave. He just turned and kicked his horse back into a gallop, leaving a white streak of surf behind him, and she knew she’d just been snubbed. Still, you didn’t say no to a man like Ibrahim and then expect a cheery wave the following morning.

Why was he here? Georgie wondered, as she showered
and dressed. What had suddenly prompted him to return unannounced? Oh, she’d seen him dashing and smiling, descending on Zaraq oozing charm and bearing gifts.

She’d seen the torment in his face too—only not even Ibrahim knew that.

The thought stayed with her as she showered and, dressed, joined her sister for breakfast.

‘Is this okay?’ she asked as she took her seat. It was a perpetual question for Georgie while in Zaraq. She was dressed in a loose-fitting cream shift dress with flat, strappy sandals and even though it was modest, she still felt as if she was showing way too much skin.

‘Relax!’ Felicity said. ‘You look wonderful. It’s only if you come out with me on official business, which you won’t,’ she hastily added when Georgie’s eyes widened in horror, ‘that you would have to cover up.’ And then Felicity gave a wry laugh. ‘Actually, technically you wouldn’t. You’re married after all.’

‘Not any more.’

‘Oh, but you are in Zaraq.’ Felicity said, but didn’t get to elaborate as the king came out to the courtyard where they were taking breakfast.

‘Have you seen Ibrahim?’ Felicity didn’t turn a hair, but Georgie felt her heart pound because the king was a formidable man, especially close up, and he didn’t look best pleased. ‘No doubt he is still sleeping.’ She wanted to correct him, to tell the king that Ibrahim was, in fact, out riding, but she knew it wasn’t her place, even though the king sounded irritated. ‘Where is everyone?’

‘Karim left early to attend a meeting on the health
situation with the Bedouins,’ Felicity answered calmly. ‘I haven’t seen anyone else.’

‘Well, if you see Ibrahim, please remind him that I want him to come to my office before he no doubt disappears again.’

‘Not likely.’ Felicity said, once the King was safely out of earshot. ‘I’m staying well out of their way today and so are you.’ She smiled at her sister. ‘We’re off to the spa for the morning!’

It wasn’t quite as simple as that. Felicity hadn’t left Azizah for any length of time with Rina the nanny, and spent ages explaining to her about how her stored breast milk was to be used. She was still rather tense when she and Georgie climbed into the limousine.

‘She’ll be fine,’ Georgie soothed. ‘Rina seems wonderful with her.’

‘I know.’ Felicity admitted. ‘I’m going to have to get used to leaving her—there are so many functions and I’m also thinking of going back to work! Just occasionally,’ Felicity said, seeing Georgie’s eyes widen. ‘Midwifery is what I love, it’s who I am, and I don’t ever want to lose that. Rina is lovely and everything but Azizah doesn’t seem to relax with her.’ Georgie knew what was coming. They’d had this conversation so many times before and she tried to divert it.

‘Maybe she needs a little more time—just her and Rina,’ Georgie attempted. ‘You do hover a bit. Rina seems wonderful, you just don’t give her a chance. It’s good you’re out this morning.’

But Felicity would not relent. ‘I want Azizah to grow
up with family.’ She looked at Georgie. ‘I want to be with my family too. Mum’s considering it, but I know she’d jump if you were here too. Please, Georgie, say you’ll seriously think about it.’

And it would be so easy to say yes, because she missed her sister and niece too. So very easy to give up trying to get her holistic healing business off the ground and just sink into the luxurious lifestyle her sister was offering.

Too easy.

Felicity had always looked out for her, had always looked after her through difficult times. The reason Felicity had first come to Zaraq had been to pay off the loan she had taken out to pay for Georgie’s rehab, and though the offer was tempting, there was a need in Georgie to go it alone, to prove to herself she could get by without her big sister’s help.

‘Let’s talk about it another time.’ Georgie said as the car headed off and she craned her neck for a glimpse as the palace gates slid open.

‘What are you looking at?’

‘Just the view.’ Georgie smiled. ‘I can’t believe I’m staying in a palace.’

‘You could live in a palace.’ Felicity pushed, but Georgie just gave a noncommittal smile, her mind elsewhere.

It wasn’t the palace, she had been trying to get a glimpse of.

It had been Ibrahim.

It was always Ibrahim, not that she could admit it to
her sister. And he stayed on her mind as they arrived in Zaraqua and an external glass elevator propelled them to the forty-second floor of a skyscraper, and Georgie remembered that she didn’t like heights.

‘Ibrahim’s work!’ Felicity said to Georgie’s pale face as they shot skyward. ‘He designed this lift.’

‘Then remind me to tell him I hate him!’ Georgie shivered. ‘And tell me when I can open my eyes.’

‘Now.’

They stepped into spa heaven. The lights were dimmed and the air fragrant as they were led to a changing room that was twice the size of Georgie’s small flat at home. ‘I want to try everything …’ Georgie said as she changed into a gown, her mind exploding with ideas for her fledgling business back home. ‘Is there a menu?’

‘It’s all sorted,’ Felicity said. ‘We’re here for the Hamman Ritual and there isn’t a single decision you have to make. It’s absolute bliss.’

It was.

Through dimmed rooms lit with candles they were led, and as Georgie’s eyes adjusted she saw the tadelakt wall with its intricate tiling.

‘It’s so hot,’ Georgie whispered.

‘You’ll get used to it.’

Oh, she’d love to get used to it. She was lowered into a sunken bath and her body washed with black soap and then, on emerging, she was led to another heated room where every inch of her skin was exfoliated, the bathing repeated and then every superfluous hair removed with sugar and honey. From heated room to heated room
they were guided, every treatment skillfully applied, every scent thoughtfully chosen, and two hours later, wrapped in a robe, sipping at fragrant tea and enjoying the soft music, Georgie smiled back at her sister, who was watching her.

‘I can’t believe how far you’ve come.’

‘I know.’ Georgie admitted, closing her eyes and letting joy flood through her, because a couple of years ago today would have been impossible, the thought of a spa abhorrent, but now she could relax, could enjoy healing hands on her, and it was her dream to in some small way impart the same experience in her work. She wanted to help others as she had been helped.

‘Your Highness!’ Georgie had forgotten for a moment her sister was now a princess and she was jerked out of her introspection as a nervous receptionist approached. ‘We would, of course, never normally disturb you, it is a strict rule of the spa, but the palace has called …’

‘It’s fine,’ Felicity said, and took the phone and then spoke with a nail technician, who was standing by. ‘Would you excuse us, please?’ Only when they were alone did she take the call, a smile on her face as she listened, her voice reassuring when she spoke. ‘No, you’re not making a fuss … I’ll come now.’ She paused for a moment. ‘You were right to call me.’

‘What’s going on?’

‘Jamal,’ Felicity said. ‘She’s done this a couple of times. Hassan’s away and she’s anxious, she’s not sure whether or not she’s having contractions.’

‘Surely there are a million doctors on call for her?’

‘Exactly.’ Felicity rolled her eyes. ‘The whole country is holding their breath about this baby and the palace doctor isn’t taking a single chance—last week she ended up being taken to hospital and monitored. There were the press waiting before she even arrived at the hospital and it was only Braxton-Hicks’ contractions. She probably doesn’t want another repeat.’

‘Poor thing.’

‘You stay here and finish. If we both dash off, they’ll suspect something,’ Felicity said. ‘I don’t want to give anyone here a hint—I’ll make out that Azizah’s fretting for me or something.’

Georgie stayed for a little while, had her feet hennaed with pretty flowers and her toenails painted, but it wasn’t as much fun without Felicity and after an hour or so Georgie chose to head for home, or rather the palace that she called home for now. Even as the car swept into the driveway, still she had trouble believing this was where her sister actually lived. It was just a world away from the small house in which they had grown up, in the North of England. A house Georgie had never considered home. A house she had run away from at every opportunity.

For the first time the palace doors didn’t magically part as Georgie climbed the steps, but just as she was wondering if such a magnificent door even
had
a doorbell, it opened, and there, most unexpectedly, was Ibrahim.

‘Where’s Felicity?’ She peered over his shoulder as he let her in.

‘At the hospital,’ he replied. As she stood in the hallway two maids dashed up the stairs without stopping to greet her or bow their heads to Ibrahim. ‘Jamal is having the baby, so things have been thrown into chaos here—they are trying to get hold of Hassan.’

‘I thought it was a false alarm. It’s too soon!’ Georgie said, but Ibrahim seemed unperturbed.

‘Your sister says it is a little early, but it will be just fine. My father just left for the hospital. Felicity explained you were at the spa. She was going to have a message sent for you but things started to move rather quickly, otherwise I’m sure we would not have been left alone.’ And that small comment told her he had been warned about her, but he did not linger on the matter, just stood silently as a group of robed man swept past, all deep in urgent conversation.

‘Where’s Azizah?’

‘With the nanny. She is getting her ready.’ At first she assumed it was a slight slip in English, that the nanny was changing a nappy or getting her niece dressed, but Georgie soon realised there had been no miscommunication.

‘She will bring her to the car. You need to get your things together too. We should leave soon,’ he said, but Georgie just stood there.

‘Leave?’

‘We need to get to the hospital.’

‘Me?’

‘You’re family,’ Ibrahim said. ‘And the future king
is about to be born. Why wouldn’t you want to be there?’

‘Because I’ve never spoken to my sister’s sister-in-law before for starters!’

Felicity had warned her to hold her tongue, to think before she spoke, and Georgie wondered if she’d gone too far, but his mouth moved into a smile she hadn’t been privy to in a very long time, a smile like no other because it told her that his question had been teasing, that he took no offence at her response. It was a smile that welcomed her to his world, that told her he understood how bizarre this all must seem. Then he must have remembered he was still sulking because his smile faded and his words were stern when they came.

‘I am looking forward to this about as much as you are. There is no choice.’

Rina came down with little Azizah, who was wrapped in a delicate cream shawl ready to meet her new cousin, and the enormity of what lay ahead hit Georgie then.

‘I really don’t think anyone would notice if I didn’t attend.’

‘Oh, they’d notice.’ Ibrahim said. ‘You are to bring Azizah.’

‘I’m not ready …’ She gestured to her clothing. The loose white dress was crumpled from the oils, her hair heavy and greasy from her scalp massage, and she didn’t have a scrap of make-up on. Worse was the thought of being amongst the royals. Being a part of such a prestigious event had her head in a spin—but a maid slithered a veil over her and Georgie was grateful in that moment
for the robes, for the shield, for the anonymity it would afford her.

Without it, she would never have made it through the day.

As they all walked out to the waiting car and she saw the police motorbike escorts waiting for them, it was all too intense for Georgie. The silver limousine with blacked-out windows that had taken Felicity and herself to the day spa had been replaced by a black vehicle that was far more formal. There was even a flag at the front.