Scorpion Sunset (15 page)

‘As it's difficult for you and the Reverend to look after Robin, Peter and I could take him until Maud returns,' Angela volunteered.

‘Steady on, Angela,' Peter remonstrated. ‘We're not in a position to adopt a child. You teach here and I'll be going upstream as soon as the Relief Force regroups.'

‘No one said anything about adoption. It will only be until Maud returns. She will, and soon,' Angela declared. ‘She dotes on that baby.'

Mrs Butler snorted in derision. ‘I saw little evidence of Mrs Mason doting on that child when she was here.'

‘Maud doesn't find it easy to show her feelings,' Angela defended her loyally. ‘And the child won't present a problem, not immediately. The nursemaid and the baby can live in our bungalow. I'll bring them here with me here on the days I teach, and if you agree, Mrs Butler, they can stay in Maud's old room. They'll be out of the way there and I can check on them during my lunch break. When I've finished teaching I'll take them back to our quarters.'

‘And when I go upstream? Peter asked.

‘The baby and the nursemaid will be company for me.'

‘You're taking on a huge responsibility, not to mention expense,' Peter warned.

‘A baby won't cost much and Maud's paid the nursemaid a year's wages, so it will only be their food. Our cook always makes far too much. I doubt we'll notice any difference in the housekeeping.'

‘In my opinion Maud won't be back any time soon to reclaim the boy,' Mrs Butler prophesised. ‘Frankly, given that Robin isn't her husband's child I doubt she'll ever return.'

‘I'd like to contribute towards the upkeep of the child,' Charles offered.

‘Why would you do that?' Mrs Butler enquired suspiciously.

‘Because John Mason is my closest surviving friend and no matter what happened between him and Maud, he wouldn't want to see her or the child in need. He has enough problems being held captive by the Turks without worrying about Maud and her baby being left destitute.'

‘I heard that Major Mason intends to divorce Mrs Mason.' Mrs Butler blatantly fished for information.

‘The last time I saw John we were at Nasiriyeh and too busy fighting the Turks to discuss our personal circumstances.' Charles deliberately moved the conversation on from John's marital problems. ‘There's an innocent baby adrift in Basra, which in my opinion is not a suitable town for army wives, let alone children. If Peter and Angela are prepared to take the child on a temporary basis until something more permanent can be arranged, the least I can do is contribute to his upkeep. I'll open an account in his name, make a monthly deposit, and arrange for Angela and Peter to draw on it so they can purchase whatever he needs.'

‘Then that's settled, thank you, Charles.' Angela smiled at Peter.

Peter didn't return her smile. ‘What about clothes and furniture? We don't even have a child's cot.'

‘Maud sent everything the child needs. I'll ask the gardener to cart it to your bungalow,' Mrs Butler offered.

‘Thank you, Mrs Butler,' Angela said gratefully. ‘We have two empty rooms in the bungalow so accommodating Robin and the maid won't inconvenience us.'

‘Shouldn't someone look for Maud?' Michael suggested. ‘When I left her last night she was in quite a state. I doubt she was thinking straight.'

‘She most certainly couldn't have been thinking straight. If she had been, she wouldn't have sent her child here,' Mrs Butler declared.

‘Are you volunteering to look for her?' Charles asked Michael.

‘I'll make enquiries, but I had a cable from my editor this morning. A source in the War Office has tipped him that the push to Baghdad is imminent. He asked me to head upstream and write a series of articles on the Relief Force's plans to wreak revenge for the surrender at Kut al Amara.'

‘Plans,' Charles smiled. ‘I can tell you what they are now. Two words will cover it. “Under discussion”.'

‘I was thinking of writing “Not yet formulated”.'

‘That will do just as well. When will you be going?' Charles asked.

‘Early next week, so I'll have a few days to look for Maud.'

Charles glanced at Peter. He knew the same thought was in both their minds. ‘How long before they'd be ordered back into battle – and would they survive a ‘next time'.

Chapter Ten

Mesopotamian Desert, Ottoman Empire

July 1916

When the gendarmes shouted the order to halt at dusk, Rebeka sank to the ground without relinquishing her hold on Mariam. They were on the outer edge of the group, close to the police, but she lacked the energy to crawl deeper into the mass of bedraggled humanity.

Mrs Gulbenkian and Hasmik were next to them. Rebeka looked to her old neighbour, but Mrs Gulbenkian was too sunk in her own misery to respond. Plagued by thoughts of Anusha's horrific murder, none of them had spoken for days.

They had left the river behind them over a week ago. Since then, the gendarmes had permitted the occasional stop at wells, but never frequently enough to assuage their thirst. The water bottles they shared were heavy to carry when full and never held enough to satisfy everyone's needs.

She was beginning to think her previous life had been no more than a beautiful dream. Every muscle in her body ached; her feet were cut and bleeding, and each footfall brought fresh agony. Her skin was on fire from a combination of sunburn, mosquito bites, and bruises, inflicted during the nights when – in Mrs Gulbenkian's terms – ‘her honour was violated'.

Her nerves were as shredded as her feet, and she only had to hear one of the guards raise his voice for tears to start in her eyes. Her dress was torn and hung so loose it was in danger of falling from her. Crippled by agonising stomach cramps she could no longer walk upright, but her craving was for water, not food. Her mouth and throat longed for one of the buckets of cool sweet water she'd drawn from the well at home. She'd stand in the garden, and after making certain neither her mother nor grandmother was watching, drink from the bucket. At the height of summer, she'd tip the rest of the water over her head, allowing it to trickle down her neck and on to her dress. Cool, wet, soothing …

She raised her head, hoping to catch sight of a well or failing that a pool. But the desert yawned back at her, flat, dry, and gritty. The only visible plant life was an occasional clump of camel thorn that she suspected even the animals they were named for might reject.

The gendarmes swaggered, an intimidating armed line of masculinity. She watched them nod to one another as they pointed to the women and children who'd stretched out on the ground. Holding Mariam close she was careful to sit upright. At a snapped command from Mehmet, four of the younger gendarmes moved among the women and children and picked up those who'd collapsed. They carried them away from the group and dropped them next to a shallow trench carved out by the rains during the wet season.

Suspecting what was coming after the events of previous nights, Rebeka dug in her pocket for a crust of bread she'd hoarded from the loaves that had been distributed days ago by the last group of American missionaries who'd dared come near them. The bread was rock-hard but she gave it to Mariam.

Mariam took it and whispered, ‘Water.'

Rebeka shook the tin bottle she carried. ‘It's empty.' Like the bread, she gave it to Mariam anyway.

‘You, Beka …'

‘Not hungry or thirsty,' she lied. ‘Put your head on my lap, it will be cold soon. I'll wrap my skirt around you to keep you warm.'

Mariam did as she suggested and Rebeka covered Mariam's eyes as well as her back and shoulders. The gendarmes pulled out their knives. The women and children they'd taken from the group didn't even cry out as the gendarmes slit their throats.

Rebeka lifted her head and stared up at the blue-black sky studded with silver stars and a low hanging, enormous brilliant moon. The heavens were vast, infinite, beautiful – and indifferent. She found it difficult to imagine it was the same night sky that had watched over her home and family.

She heard the gendarmes moving, but refused to look when she heard them flinging the bodies of those they'd slaughtered into the gulley. The corpses landed in a series of ominous thuds. When silence reigned again it was only to be shattered by a chilling scream.

The gendarmes retreated into the black desert. Huge, terrifying, shadowy figures crept out of the gloom and swooped down on the captives. Rebeka watched, mesmerized as the giants moved among the women. They were massive – and strong. She saw one lift a woman from her feet and hold her high as another stripped the clothes from her.

Mrs Gulbenkian wrapped her arms tightly around Hasmik. ‘Lie beneath me. Don't look. Don't make a sound.'

Before Rebeka could follow suit with Mariam, she was grabbed by her neck. As she was swung from her feet, a man, his head half-hidden by a turban, materialised in front of her. He inserted the point of his dagger in the neck of her ragged dress and sliced it from her. She fought with all the strength she could muster but it wasn't enough. After the man had stripped her of her clothes he threw her aside, picked up her dress and Mariam and tossed both to a shorter, slighter figure wrapped in a cloak and kafieh.

The man caught Mariam, who was catatonic with terror. Rebeka saw her sister's mouth open but if Mariam screamed, it was silent. Devastated at the prospect of losing the last member of her family, Rebeka charged towards the man. She was only vaguely away of the cries, bloodshed, and chaos around her. Young girls and children were being wrenched from the arms of their mothers and sisters. Women and children tried to fight as the clothes were ripped from their backs. Most ended up knocked to the ground. Rebecca tripped over them, falling more than once on to mounds of bare flesh.

She didn't even realise she was stark naked until she found herself running alone in the moonlit desert. Somewhere ahead was a resounding drumbeat of pounding hooves. That was the moment she realised the bandit tribesmen who had robbed her and the other women of their clothes and children were riding off.

Even as she summoned the last of her strength to run after them she knew it was futile. That she could never hope to catch them. But she kept running and crying Mariam's name.

A blow rained on her back. She plunged headlong to the earth. A second blow sent coloured stars shooting across the horizon. One by one they burst into shards of light and when the last sliver fell to earth there was only darkness.

Abdul's Coffee Shop, Basra

July 1916

Georgiana knocked Michael's door.

‘Enter.'

Her brother was sitting, writing, his travelling desk on the table beside him.

‘Georgie,' he left his chair and kissed her cheek, ‘this is an unexpected pleasure.'

‘No boat of Turkish casualties came in this morning. Dr Picard and Theo Wallace insisted they could manage without me, so I thought I'd come and torment you before you go upstream.'

‘How do you know I'm going upstream?'

‘Angela Smythe told me when she visited her brother in the Lansing this morning.'

‘Can't keep any secrets in this town. I'm pleased to see you, but Abdul's is no place for a woman.'

‘Some people would argue that point. From what I've heard it's exactly the place for enterprising women. I've been curious about the opportunities it offers to both sexes for a while. Besides, your girlfriend seems to manage living here. Now what did Charles say her name was?' she mused unconvincingly as if she didn't already know. ‘Kalla, isn't it?'

‘I supposed you're shocked.'

‘If you're happy with her, I'm very pleased for you, little brother. You should never have married Lucy.'

‘You did all you could to stop me.'

‘I'm only sorry I didn't succeed.' She looked around the room. ‘Where is Kalla? As I called in unexpectedly I was hoping to meet her.'

‘Visiting …' He hedged. ‘An acquaintance.'

‘An acquaintance, not friend?'

‘Kalla belonged to a woman …'

‘Belonged? She was a slave?'

‘There are many in this country.'

‘Nothing about this place should surprise me, but that does,' Georgiana answered.

‘I'm in the process of buying her, which is proving complicated possibly because Kalla insists on doing the negotiating with my orderly Daoud's help. They didn't trust me. Said I'd end up paying too much. Frankly I would have rather given double the money to have the business over with by now. I find the whole idea repugnant.'

‘Hasn't it occurred to you that most civilised people would?' she asked in amusement.

‘Sorry, Georgie, I've been too long in this country and talked to too many people like Abdul who think it's normal for one human being to own another.'

‘A word of caution: have you considered what you're going to do with Kalla when you buy her?'

‘Free her, of course.'

‘That's it? Just say, off you go, Kalla, you're free?'

‘No, of course not. Kalla wants to go upstream with me. We've been arguing about it.'

‘She realises there's going to be serious fighting up there?'

‘Yes.'

‘But she still wants to go?'

‘When the bullets start flying I could leave her behind the lines with the orderlies. She'd be safe – or relatively safe – there.' He gave her a disarming lopsided smile that reminded her of Harry. ‘I'm still thinking about it, but,' he shrugged.

‘From what you've just said I think she's already persuaded you to take her.'

‘I think I love her, Georgie.'

‘Think?'

‘I do.'

‘If you love her, and she's prepared to risk her life just to be with you, take her.'