Song of the Nile

by Fielding, Hannah

  One of the Bedouin men strode swiftly over the sand towards them, his white garment flapping against his brown legs, his rascally face full of concern. He had brought over a gourd of water and Phares took it from him silently and held it to Aida’s lips.

  For an anguished moment her still form didn’t move and Phares hesitated, wondering whether or not to apply some stimulant to help bring her back to consciousness. Then, as he sprinkled a few drops of water on to her pallid brow, the big eyes opened feebly and Aida gazed up into his face.

  ‘Phares …’ Her voice was very faint.

  His heart slammed into his chest and all he could do was whisper her name.

  Her brow furrowed weakly. ‘What is it? Oh … I remember. I fell, didn’t I?’

  ‘Shush, chérie, you’re safe now.’

  He had brought several large silk handkerchiefs smeared with ointment with him, which he now took from his pocket valise and bound them around the wound Aida had sustained in her fall.

  When he lifted his head, he saw that her eyes were closed again. He whispered her name and felt an enormous sense of relief when she stirred slightly and opened them.

  ‘Phares …’ She gave a faint smile and whispered something inaudibly, then closed her eyes with a sigh, too weary to keep them open any longer.

  ‘I’m here, chérie.’ Lifting the small figure tenderly into his arms, he gave her to the Bedouin to hold while he slid back in the saddle. Once he was securely seated, he took her from the man and pulled her up against his chest so her fair head lay against his shoulder. Enfolding her tightly in his embrace, he rode back to Cairo with his men.

  * * *

  Aida seemed to drift underwater, aware of voices that came to her from a distance, and then receded. There were conversations floating around her that she couldn’t understand. One of them belonged to Phares. He’d come for her, and she wanted to reach out for him, but now she couldn’t see where he was, just the blackness. Too tired to open her eyes, she gave into the blackness and sank back beneath the waves. And then she felt herself floating upwards to the surface of the water, the sun’s rays striking warmly on her face.

  She opened her eyes slowly. Wherever she was, it was dusk. Clumsily, she tried to sit up and as she did so, the sudden pang which went through her stiffened frame brought her to a full realisation of her surroundings. Still somewhat dazed, she looked round the hospital room with its cool pale walls, noticing that a nurse was sitting in a chair a few feet away, dozing.

  Aida lay back and closed her eyes again. How long had she been here? Mind and body shuddered alike as images of what had happened began to form again in her head. She was so cold inside, as if her stomach were filled with ice. She swallowed hard, her throat sore and swollen with tension as she fought against remembering the details of her nightmare. Her entire body ached – so physically tired that she felt almost battered. Feverish and weak, it was as if she was suffering from a disease.

  Sleep must have taken her again for when she opened her eyes once more, the clock on the wall opposite showed it was early. She must have slept through the night. She noticed that the nurse who had been dozing had left the room, and feeling a little stronger, Aida pushed herself up against her pillows and winced, everything now rushing back to her consciousness like water flowing through the floodgates of a dam.

  What had she done?

  Aida knew perfectly well that in Egypt, girls belonging to respectable families did not behave in the way she had. It was all very well being half English and having lived in England during the war, but she was half Egyptian too and now she was back in Egypt, where she intended to make her life. She sighed. When in Rome and all that. Even her father, who was regarded as broad-minded in comparison to his Egyptian peers, would not have condoned her behaviour. What had happened to her was no surprise, and Aida was too fair-minded and lucid not to admit it. It was not as if she hadn’t been warned. She was lucky that she had escaped with only a few bruises and a harsh lesson that she would never forget as long as she lived.

  Still, her mind was foggy and confused. What was Phares doing at that hour in the desert with a group of Bedouins? Surely he had come looking for her. He must have rung Karawan House and found that she wasn’t there, but how had he guessed so quickly that she had gone to the prince’s oasis?

  She was so ashamed of her impulsive behaviour. How could she ever face Phares again? He would never marry her now. Her defence was jealousy – he had lied to her by saying that his relationship with Nairy Paplosian had ended months ago – but her pride would forbid her from ever telling him that she knew that he was still carrying on with the model. Still they were not officially engaged and Aida hadn’t even given him an answer, so maybe she had no right to be either jealous or angry. As usual, she had gone off the deep end without considering the consequences of her actions, and she would now have to pay the price.

  She remained there with her eyes closed, thankful at least that she was safe after her ordeal, but then her peace was invaded by the sound of squeaking hinges as the door was thrust open.

  Her eyes snapped open as Naguib Bishara entered the room. The usual smiling, debonair expression on the lawyer’s face had given way to a tightening of the lips and a grave mien that Aida had only experienced during the far-off days that had preceded and followed her father Ayoub’s trial. She propped herself further up in bed, almost sitting, ready to face the music.

  ‘Good morning, Aida.’

  ‘Good morning, Uncle Naguib.’

  ‘How are you feeling this morning? You still look very pale, but better than yesterday when they brought you in.’

  ‘I feel a little weak and tired, but I’m fine, thank you. So, I’ve been here for a whole day?’

  ‘Yes, habibti. Your aunt Nabila came to visit while you were sleeping. She’s been worried sick.’ Naguib sighed as he sat down in the chair next to Aida’s bed. He gazed at her, his dark eyes concerned though reproachful. ‘Aida, my child, how could you behave in this way? Didn’t you realise the fearful risks you ran in going to Kasr El Nawafeer alone and what the consequences might be from such a foolish action, not to mention the utter madness of setting off into the desert on your own? Do you know how lucky you are to be alive? Will you never learn wisdom?’

  Colour rose to Aida’s cheeks and she stiffened, resentful of this criticism. ‘I didn’t go alone, Uncle, we were in a group. Had I not been taken ill, none of this would have happened and I would have returned with the others. As for my running off, I was escaping from Prince Shams, don’t you see? The man’s a madman, he wanted to keep me there as his prisoner.’

  Naguib’s eyes widened. ‘We were told he was going to take you back himself on his private plane the next day.’

  ‘That’s what he told Shirley Saunders, but he handcuffed me and locked me up in the harem.’ Aida couldn’t keep the tremor from her voice. ‘If it hadn’t been for his aunt and a couple of servants who helped me escape, I doubt you would have seen me again.’ She shivered and tears clouded her eyes.

  Naguib’s face darkened. For a moment he did not speak, then he reached for Aida’s hand, which lay limply on the bed, and gave it a brief squeeze. ‘I see. Do not worry, I will make enquiries. The man thinks he is above the law but I will find a way to deal with Prince Shams Sakr El Din.’ He sat back and rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, interlacing his fingers. ‘But in the meantime, my dear, our whole Cairene social circle has been talking about your disappearance. I’m afraid you have given cause for endless gossip and scandal. The prince is a renowned womaniser. People are already saying you feigned sickness to stay behind with him. It didn’t help that your travelling companions told everyone that he was flirting with you during your stay.’

  ‘But it isn’t true!’ she exclaimed, her voice now heated by hurt and anger.

  Naguib lifted a calming hand. ‘Yes, you and I know that.’

  ‘What about Phares?’

  ‘Phares loves you.’

  �
�No, he doesn’t.’

  Naguib fixed her with a serious look. ‘The man cares for you a great deal. He must do, because he stayed by your side for hours without sleeping, until he was called away urgently. He also told me when he brought you back that I mustn’t worry about your reputation. He is still keen on marrying you and as soon as possible, too.’

  Aida blinked in surprise. Phares wanted to marry her, as soon as possible. Why did he not want to distance himself from her now that that she had brought shame upon herself in the eyes of their social circle? Part of her rejoiced but the doubts would not be silenced. Phares wanted her, but his heart lay with someone else.

  Aida glanced sharply back at Naguib. ‘Yes, of course, he is still keen to marry my feddans, acres of land,’ she replied bitterly. ‘You must be aware of his affair with Nairy Paplosian, the well-known model.’

  Naguib sighed and shook his head. ‘If a man has a mistress, it doesn’t necessarily mean that he loves her. Most young men have mistresses until the day they marry. Men’s needs, habibti, are different to those of a woman. The affair usually ends when the man settles down.’

  She turned her head away. ‘Yes, yes, I know about all that.’

  ‘I’m sure that Miss Paplosian is only a … let’s call it a pleasurable entertainment for Phares. He is a man like any other, and the woman is a siren. You are not so innocent as to be unaware of the fact that a man may be deeply in love with one woman yet by no means impervious to the wiles of another. Especially when the woman he truly loves seems unattainable. And as I understand it, habibti, Phares has asked you to marry him a number of times and you have been evasive, to say the least. So, you see, there is nothing for you to worry about … Phares is seriously taken with you.’

  Aida gave a hollow laugh. ‘Well then, you haven’t been listening to the gossip. She is the love of his life, Uncle. The only reason Phares is unable to marry this woman is because of their social differences. We’re such a bigoted society, it would harm his career. I’m well aware that if he married me it would be the perfect match and he would be able to have his cake and eat it.’

  ‘Not now, habibti,’ Naguib said, a little more sternly. ‘You are certainly not the perfect match for him anymore. I can name many young women who would provide Phares with as much land as you would. You are not the only rich woman around – Take Isis Geratly. She has had her eye on Phares for years and makes no bones about it, and she’s an heiress to a lot of land.’

  ‘Yes, but my land adjoins his, and Kamel Pharaony can’t wait to have us married so he can get his hands on it.’

  ‘That may be so, but Phares is his own man, Aida, and if he didn’t love you, especially after your last escapade, he wouldn’t marry you. Think about it, habibti, but don’t delay. Patience has its limits. After another rebuff from you, I wouldn’t blame Phares if he gave up and turned to someone who would be grateful for his proposal. There is no reason why a young man so in demand should continue with a love that is unrequited.’

  Aida sighed. ‘I’ll think about it, Uncle, but I won’t deceive myself with dreams filled with nothing but sweet air.’ She paused for a few seconds and then asked, ‘When can I leave the hospital and return to Luxor?’

  ‘Doctor Amir would like you to spend another night under observation. You could have died out there in the desert and he wants to make sure you are totally recovered before you travel. So, tomorrow, we will go back to Luxor together.’ Naguib rose from his chair. Moving over to the window, he stared out, hands clasped behind his back. ‘I should tell you that Kamel Pharaony has been asking after you as well. He wanted to come and see you but he needed to remain in Luxor for Camelia.’

  Aida looked up in surprise. ‘Camelia? Is she all right?’

  He turned and gave her a knowing look. ‘Not exactly. That is why Phares was called away urgently. He’s taken Camelia back to Luxor. Like you, she’s been reckless … Anyway, they have both flown to Upper Egypt this morning, where she will hopefully stay out of trouble.’

  Aida was alarmed. ‘What do you mean?’

  Naguib levelled a hard stare at her. ‘Did you know that your friend is part of a nationalist organisation working to get rid of the King and the British?’

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ she lied.

  ‘Well, she was arrested at the home of the head of Masr Lel Masreyeen on Friday and was thrown into prison, where she remained for the weekend until Phares was able to persuade the Embassy to help him have her freed. The news of her release came after you were brought here.’

  ‘Oh, poor Camelia!’

  Naguib flung his hands up. ‘No, not poor Camelia … reckless, unwise Camelia.’ Exasperation filled his voice. ‘Honestly, you’re just as foolish as each other.’

  Aida was concerned. ‘Did they torture her, or harm her?’

  ‘Not that I’ve heard.’ He shook his head ruefully. ‘Ah, Phares … he’s had a rough few days dealing with you two girls.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Uncle Naguib. I behaved on impulse … as usual.’

  ‘Well, habibti, I hope you’ve learned your lesson.’

  ‘I have, I can assure you.’ Genuine regret tinged her voice. ‘It was a very frightening experience.’

  Naguib’s expression softened. ‘Your father always said you would have to learn the hard way. Poor Ayoub, how he used to worry about you.’

  Aida gave a sad smile. ‘If he hadn’t died, I suppose I’d be married to Phares today.’

  ‘Indeed, but that is all in the past. This is a situation that can rectified, and that now lies in your hands. And now, habibti, I must leave you as I have some work to attend to. I’ll come back this evening and make sure you have everything you need. You must get your strength back now so that we can get you home to Karawan House.’

  Once Naguib had gone, Aida rested her head against the pillows and closed her eyes, emotions warring with her reason. Uncle Naguib was right: when you added up all the disadvantages marriage to her must represent for Phares, the match must seem to him slightly dubious. Aida was the daughter of a man whom society had censured, a woman alone with no useful connections. Ayoub El Masri’s daughter was impetuous, headstrong … and a liability.

  Marriage to Ayoub’s daughter, though it would do Phares no real harm, would not exactly enhance his prestige – and he was an ambitious man. Only the land could compensate for these shortcomings – and her love perhaps. Aida knew now more than ever that she could not will herself to stop loving Phares. The fact was she couldn’t imagine life without him. Perhaps she could dare hope to give flight to that flutter of optimism in her heart … If Phares was determined to have her, she’d be damned if she was foolish enough to let him go. Her mind was made up: she would set aside her pride and do whatever it took to make him love her.

  Aida drew a deep breath. As for Nairy Paplosian, she would fight the woman with her very own weapons.

  Seduction is an art discovered by Eve and practised ever since by women determined to get their men.

  Aida had read that somewhere years ago. At the time it had faintly shocked her, but she felt differently now. Women had limited ammunition to aid them in the war of the sexes, so those they had must be used wisely and well.

  She already knew how much Phares desired her – again and again he had made it plain, and she wanted him too, beyond all reason. If, as Uncle Naguib seemed to think, Phares’s attraction to his model mistress was merely sexual then Aida would do her best to seduce him, please him and love him until he forgot Nairy Paplosian entirely.

  * * *

  A flood of hazy morning sunlight poured into the long, walled garden, which lent an enchanted secrecy. It was planted from end to end with orange trees, their shining leaves glistening in the sun and here and there a round ripe fruit showed among the small waxen flowers. Creepers tipped by clusters of purple wisteria outlined the furthest wall, while a shabby pergola on a path leading to the river was covered in a luxuriant vine with thick, dark, lance-shaped leaves and balls of scarlet berries
. The air was hot and sweet, heady with the scent of acacias, orange blossoms and roses, which clambered up the other walls among clematis and passion flowers. Two colourful hoopoes, one in the sweet-lemon tree, the other hidden somewhere in the mimosa hedge, called to each other in their enchanted notes like birds in a dream.

  Aida was in the garden when Phares came looking for her. Wearing a loose blue button-down dress to keep cool against the coming heat of the day, she leant against the trunk of an acacia tree on the bank sloping down to the Nile.

  She had been back nearly a week, but hadn’t heard from him. She had tried to speak to Camelia over the telephone, but her friend was apparently shutting herself away, still in shock, refusing to take any calls.

  Her heart raced as she saw Phares’s tall, lean figure appear at the top of the terrace staircase that led to the garden. Beige chinos were belted to his flat, athletic waist, and a fine cotton shirt covering his broad chest and wide shoulders was open at the neck, bright white against his tawny skin. The curved fullness of his mouth, deceptively soft-looking, coupled with the lock of black hair that hung over his forehead, gave him a rugged, thrilling look that went straight to her heart. Deliberately, arrogantly, with even a touch of insolence, he ambled towards her.

  ‘Aida, chérie, I thought I’d find you here. You look … much better.’ He seemed to be wrestling with pent-up energy. For a moment his eyes swept over her in a possessive gaze, a mix of relief with something darker. ‘You’re far braver than I thought … and far more foolish. A bravado that could have cost you your life.’ He gazed at her fiercely with eyes like obsidian. ‘Damn it, Aida! What were you thinking?’

  For a few seconds, she just looked at him with a catch of her breath. The pallor of her cheeks was replaced by two flames that flickered over her cheekbones and shot sparks into her eyes.

  ‘I’m not proud of my escapade, Phares. I’m sorry—’ she began, but he cut in, not giving her the opportunity to finish.

  ‘That you should run off on a whim just because I wasn’t at our lunch appointment shows how irresponsible and immature you are. My God, I could have been held up in an operation or had an accident! Didn’t that even cross your mind? No, you ran off to that womaniser’s palace, knowing it would infuriate me and putting yourself in very real danger.’