Olives (32 page)

Valentjin.
Privatisation Man. The disastrous dinner we’d had with Lars just
after Anne had arrived in Jordan. Lars and I got drunk while she
and Privatisation Man talked international law and sipped iced
Perrier. Anne and I had gone home to a blazing row
afterwards.

‘
Yes, yes I
remember him.’

‘
We kept in
touch and he brought us in as legal consultants to the consortium
because of our experience with large scale utility privatisations
in Europe.’ She laughed. ‘I honestly didn’t expect to come to
Jordan again.’

A voice in my
head asked me how on earth I had ever become involved with this
woman, let alone share her bed.

‘
No. No, I
suppose not. Great. Cool. Well, um, good luck.’

Anne put her
hand on my forearm which, I realised too late, was crossed
defensively. Her touch was dry and I flinched, watching her eyes
widen in an instant of exquisite embarrassment between two absolute
strangers.

‘
I actually
wanted to try and find you, Paul. I thought you might be here at
the conference. Do you have time for a coffee?’

I turned to
Aisha, who was waiting with the bellboy by the lift. ‘I’ve just
checked in, actually, just have to get the things to the room, you
know...’

Anne stared
across at Aisha. She turned to me. ‘I see. Look, Paul, I just
wanted to tell you to be careful. The Anglo-Jordanian bid is
strongly favoured by the Israeli, British and American governments,
as you probably know. This whole process has become terribly,’ she
searched for the word for a second, glancing at Aisha, ‘political.
I know you’re tied up with the Dajanis.’

I somehow
managed to keep the surge of anger out of my expression, but every
shred of me wanted to hurl obscenities at her.

‘
What have
they got to do with a Jordanian privatisation, Anne? It’s these
people’s decision to make, not theirs.’

‘
Well,
there’s more at stake than just one country here, isn’t there Paul?
It’s a regional issue after all. Look, I mustn’t keep you,’ she
looked down at my trousers, ‘You probably want to freshen up.
Perhaps we’ll have the chance to chat later on.’

I looked up
from my stained leg, but she had already turned and walked
away.

We sat on the
low wall by the pebble beach together, looking out over the viscous
Dead Sea at the last of the stunning winter sunset, the air still
warm but cooling fast into night. The still plane of the sea was
dark, the last orange reflection seeming to reach out to us. The
dark hills across the water were a vignette of terracotta to dark
wine as darkness embraced the waning sun. Aisha’s sketchbook was
closed.

I drank her
in, her hair blown back from her face by the warm breeze, her eyes
closed and face lifted in exultation, her brown skin catching the
last glow of light. The condensation glistened on our glasses and
moistened her fingers as she drank. I took her wet hand and put it
to my lips.

She opened
her eyes lazily, her voice chocolate. ‘Flatterer.’

‘
No, I’m an
amateur at that. I’ll have to take lessons from
Ibrahim.’

She laughed
and sipped her wine. ‘I wish this could last longer. I wish we
didn’t have to do this whole conference thing tomorrow.’

‘
But when
it’s over, once the decision’s taken and Daoud’s safe we’ve got
forever. We can take some time out and just sit on beach. Aqaba,
maybe.’

‘
Why do you
think Anne wanted to warn you, Paul?’

‘
I don’t
know. I’ve been worrying about it, actually. I don’t know why she’d
even want to talk to me. It’s not as if, well, you know, as if I
behaved well when saw her last.’

Aisha’s voice
was a touch too light. ‘She looked nice.’

‘
She comes
from a different world, Aish. I couldn’t understand what I had ever
thought I had in common with her. She’s like a total stranger to
me.’

Aisha stayed
silent for a while.

‘
We have a
saying, you know. My brother against my cousin, my cousin against
the stranger. Maybe she thought you need protecting from me.’ She
gave a sly little smile.

I looked out
across the dark water, small waves sloshing thickly against the
stony shore. ‘So are you a brother or a cousin?’

She moved
then, getting up in a single fluid moment, sitting on my legs and
straddling me, her hand around my neck.

‘
I am your
lover, Paul. Closer to you than either.’

Our mouths
opened together, our tongues meeting, our touches slow and
rhythmic. We stayed like it for a long time, until the sun had
disappeared and the darkness enveloped us. The beach bar had long
closed, the waiter leaving us with our bottle and glasses, a single
shadow on the wall by the water’s edge.

We went up to
my room, Aisha carrying her sandals. She sat me down on the bed,
carefully padding around the room, turning all the lights off
except the bedside lamp. Standing in front of me, she peeled off
her black dress, her smooth body shadowed in the lamplight as she
revealed black and red underwear. She unpicked the buttons of my
shirt and slid it off me, undoing my belt and opening my trousers.
I hardly dared to breathe, stilled with the wonder of it all. Still
she stood in front of me, close to me. I leaned forward, but she
pushed me back. She unclipped her bra and bent, sliding her hands
down her thighs, hooking her thumbs into her knickers and pulling
them down to her ankles, stepping out of them daintily. She came
towards me, took my head in her hands and pulled me into
her.

The alarm
call woke us at six. Aisha looked startled for a second, then
focused her sleepy eyes and found her place, grinned at me and
kissed me quickly before getting up and dressing. I lay in bed,
savouring our first awakening together, stretching lazily and
luxuriating in her scent, the rumpled bed and the lingering musk of
our passion.

Watching her,
a moment of profound pride and happiness overwhelmed me. I had
noticed when we walked together or sat in a bar or hotel lobby
together, men’s eyes lingered on us. Women would look us up and
down, doing that Arab evaluation thing, starting at the head and
scanning down then up. I was reflected in Aisha’s beauty, somehow
becoming more than a sloppily dressed misfit because she was with
me. I was proud of her, proud of myself. Just proud.

She stood
over me again, almost exactly where she’d stood the night before,
her hands on her hips and her head tilted to one side in enquiry,
her hair wild. ‘Penny for them.’

I lay back,
bare to the stomach, my hands behind my head. ‘Truth?’

‘
Truth.’

‘
I love
you.’

She sat down
on the bed then, put her hand on my belly, dark on pale. She was
serious, her big eyes on me. ‘Truly?’

‘
Yes.
Truly.’

She smiled
gravely. ‘I have to go.’

‘
I know. Hang
on.’

I rolled out
of bed, pulled on the white towelling hotel bathrobe and followed
her as she left. I stopped at the door and kissed her before I
opened it for her, standing in the doorway as she slipped
out.

Aisha’s
fleeting kiss brought me back to reality for a second as she ran
down the corridor to her room. I turned to look at the wreckage of
pillows and sheets in the grey dawn light and realised I had used a
word I don’t like using. I had gifted her my absolute
truth.

TWENTY-FOUR

Aisha’s soft
touch was a little thrill as I helped her off the conference
shuttle bus, the exhaust fumes making me squint up at her as the
warm light caught her fine features. It was a hot Dead Sea day and
I shifted uncomfortably in the unfamiliar confines of a suit. She
glanced at me as her high heels hit tarmac, a flash of white teeth
at my discomfiture.

‘
Come on,
let’s get you installed in the press office so I can find Harb and
Zahlan.’

We walked
into the King Hussein convention centre, more buses pulling up
behind us as conference visitors streamed in from the hotels along
the Dead Sea coast and from the public car parks down the road. The
keynote speaker, Harb Al Hashemi, Jordanian Minister of Natural
Resources by the Grace of God, was also, Aisha told me, going to
announce the result of the privatisation. The evaluation committee
had reviewed the financial offers of both bidders and made its
choice. Harb would reveal all.

Security was
tight, a long queue for the scanners, metal detectors and
serious-faced uniforms manning them. Aisha kept setting off the
metal detector, taking off her jewellery, watch and finally shoes.
A peasant-faced woman in a green uniform grinned at Aisha, tapping
herself on her dumpy breasts: ‘Wire.’

They took
Aisha away, blushing furiously, to be ‘checked by hand.’ When she
came back I got a slap for laughing at her, pushing up my chest and
grunting, ‘Wire.’

We parted
outside the press office and agreed to meet for lunch before I went
in to start putting finishing touches to the conference opening
press releases I had pre-written so I could keep up with the flow
of news throughout the morning.

After sending
off the first release of the day I cued up the second on my laptop.
It was the announcement of the winning consortium and all I needed
to complete it was the winner’s name. Anxious to catch Harb’s
speech in person, I made my way through the logo-strewn corridors
and the smiling suits packing the exhibition area, zigzagging
across to the conference hall.

I sat in the
back row of the hall so I could get out easily and post my release
when the moment came. Although everyone at the Ministry was
positive Dajani’s Jerusalem Consortium would win, I had to actually
hear Harb say the words before I could make the news
public.

The huge room
filled up quickly, with only a few minutes until the Minister was
due to speak. I saw Aisha on the stage fussing over the laptop on
the lectern. I stiffened at the voice from behind me.

‘
Top o’ the
mornin’ to ye. Thought I’d find you sitting in the naughty
seats.’

I turned to
face a grinning Gerald Lynch.

‘
Sure, I’d
turn back around nice and natural unless you want to advertise our
connection, now Paul.’ He spoke quietly in the growing
hubbub.

‘
What do you
want now?’

‘
Paul, Paul.
Christ, but you are one very grumpy young man these days. Why
should I want anything? I’m just turnin’ up to hear the great man
himself, amn’t I?’

If Lynch
cranking up the feckless Paddy act was intended to goad me it was
certainly working. Scanning the room, I spotted Daoud close to the
stage. He had a severe-faced older man with him, a soup-strainer
moustache and a brown polyester suit.
Mukhabarat
.
Secret police. I’d learned to recognise them from a mile away and
Daoud’s pal was typical of the breed. Aisha told me her brother had
insisted on attending the conference against the advice of the
security people. I took care to keep my eye moving through the
crowd so Lynch wouldn’t notice my interest in Daoud.

The house
lights dimmed and people started to settle down, the room not quite
full, so Lynch and I were isolated in our back row seats. He leaned
forward so his whisper came to me from shockingly close by. ‘You
know, I should be angry at the stunt you pulled in
The Jordan Times
, Paul. Nice work, though. Jaysus, you’ve a
talent for it, eh? You shouldn’t have much trouble getting a job
once this is all over.’

‘
What’s that
supposed to mean?’

‘
Oh, didn’t
you know?’ Studied innocence. ‘TMG has pulled out of its contract
with the Ministry. Shock move and all that. Mister Robin Goodyear
felt other markets should take priority, apparently. They picked up
a lot of defence-related work in Europe. Looks like you’ll be going
home soon enough. Sure, that’ll be nice fer ye. You must be missin’
the old place. Bacon butties, good beer, all that. Porky
scratchings.’

The lights
dimmed totally leaving only the stage illuminated. The chill-out
music died and the room got to its feet as the Jordanian national
anthem played out.

Harb Al
Hashemi took to the stage. I could hear Lynch breathing behind me
but I couldn’t turn, couldn’t run. I shook my head, denying his
insidious voice as the room echoed with applause for the Minister
of Natural Resources. Harb was composed, smiling, his hand on the
lectern as he scanned the room.
‘Bismillah Arrahman Arrahim. Sayidati sadaty. Assalam
aleikoum.’

A murmur ran
around the auditorium,
‘Aleikoum assalam.’

‘
Good
morning, ladies and gentlemen. Today is an historic day for Jordan
and for our region and I am delighted to be talking to you at the
inauguration of what I hope will be the most important platform for
our region to share best practices, solutions and strategic
partnerships in the development, management and sustenance of the
most important resource to our region and its people.
Water.’