Song of the Nile

by Fielding, Hannah

  ‘Oh, I love your dress!’ the other woman gushed. ‘And do I understand congratulations are in order? You’ve just married that gorgeous young doctor, haven’t you? What’s his name? … Pharaony … Phares Pharaony.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Aida half breathed a sigh of relief that Shirley Saunders hadn’t thought to say any more on the subject of their visit to Wahat El Nakheel. ‘Yes, Phares and I were married yesterday in Luxor.’

  ‘He is such a great surgeon. He saved so many lives during the war. Extremely compassionate, I’m told. Have you known him a long time?’

  ‘Yes. In fact, Phares and I grew up together. Our properties are adjoining and his sister Camelia is my best friend.’

  ‘Oh, I see … neighbouring properties. Yes, of course. That’s how rich landowners make sure the money is kept among the few elite, isn’t it?’

  Aida didn’t like the insinuation, but she knew everybody took Shirley Saunders’s words with a pinch of salt. Anyhow, for the time being, she had other things on her mind.

  ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ she said, noticing one of the cubicles had become free. ‘The bell will be calling us soon.’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course, go ahead … don’t let me keep you,’ the Englishwoman answered hurriedly, but Aida could tell she was disappointed not to have the opportunity to pry any further.

  A few minutes later, Aida was making her way back to the foyer when she heard the end-of-interval bell. Hurrying back to her seat, she rounded a corner and stopped in her tracks. Phares was standing at the door of their box, leaning against the arched frame, in conversation with Nairy.

  He was his same cool and collected self, and seemed to be listening quietly to Nairy’s somewhat agitated monologue. Then he shook his head with an apologetic air while the model was insisting, gesticulating, obviously pleading with him.

  Aida was deliberating whether or not to interrupt their tête-à-tête when she saw her husband take out a card from his inside pocket, scribble something on the back of it and hand it over to the young woman, who immediately smiled and threw her arms around him, kissing him hard on the lips.

  Acid churned in Aida’s stomach as she watched them together. Phares did not push Nairy away, but simply shook his head as the model disentangled herself from him with that half-amused, indulgent smile that raised one corner of his lips, a smile that had always made Aida feel weak at the knees.

  Nairy walked away. Phares stood for a second looking after her, then went back into the box.

  Aida could feel herself beginning to tremble. She remained frozen to the ground, while people pushed past her on the way to their boxes. Sick and angry at the same time, she felt foolishly close to tears.

  Would Nairy’s shadow always be between her and Phares?

  The bell sounded for the third time, bringing Aida back down to earth. She took a deep breath and hurried back to her place just as the lights were dimming. Phares turned to her with the same loving expression that had lit up his face since she had become his wife.

  ‘What kept you?’ he whispered, concern warming his voice. ‘I was worried. Are you all right?’

  Aida nodded, grateful for the obscurity that cloaked them so he could not see her tears brimming. ‘Nothing, nothing … I’m fine, really.’ She felt hot and cold at the same time, sick with an anger directed against herself for her foolish response to what she had just witnessed. Even now, the model was obviously running after her husband, and Phares, gentleman that he was, didn’t want to hurt the young woman’s feelings. He was probably hoping once she accepted he wasn’t a free man, she would leave him alone. Aida wondered whether or not to calmly tell Phares of the day she had seen them at the hospital but she knew she wouldn’t: pride forbade her to admit to him that she was capable of such a lowly feeling as jealousy.

  During the entire final act of the opera, panic clawed at Aida’s stomach. She sat on the edge of her seat, wondering what Phares had written on his card. Whatever it was, it seemed to have calmed the model down, and had been rewarded by a kiss of some exuberance.

  ‘Aida, are you sure you’re all right?’

  She realised abruptly that the opera had come to an end. The lights had come on, and people were moving in their seats, the auditorium filling with the muted sound of their conversations. The grating noise of chairs, pushed back on the wooden floor in the neighbouring boxes, was painful to her ears. She felt suddenly as though her senses had been scraped raw, like a sore patch of tender skin.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she lied. ‘Just a bit of a headache, that’s all.’

  She stood up shakily, outwardly composed, but inside seething with a multitude of confused emotions.

  Phares looked down at her tenderly. ‘We’ll go straight to the hotel and you can go to bed. You’ve overdone it, chérie. You need a good night’s sleep. I was selfish and greedy last night. You didn’t get much rest, eh?’ he said, placing an arm solicitously around her as they went down the few steps that led to the foyer. ‘You’ll feel better in the morning.’

  They drove back to Mena House in silence. Though she was not looking at him, Aida felt Phares’s gaze weighing heavily upon her. Once or twice he stretched out his hand to take hers, but she didn’t move, her heart willing her body to become insensitive to his touch.

  Once in their room, Phares took her in his arms. The way he was looking at her made her tremble. ‘You’re sure you’re feeling all right?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m feeling fine. It’s as you said … I didn’t get much sleep last night.’ She was practically gabbling in her desperate need to escape his embrace without raising his suspicions.

  His eyes scrutinised her. ‘Why are you trembling so much, then?’

  ‘I’m … I’m not,’ she lied, protesting.

  ‘I can feel it, Aida. Are you unwell? Is it a migraine?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I can feel it coming on,’ she answered quickly, relieved that he had given her a plausible excuse. ‘I’ll undress and take an aspirin.’

  Gently, he pulled her closer as he murmured, ‘I remember the migraines you used to get. You used to say that having your scalp massaged was always a far more effective cure than painkillers.’

  Aida stared up at him. How did he remember? It was true that when she was younger she had always claimed massage worked better than painkillers for a headache, but it had only really been an excuse to have Phares touch her.

  She wriggled in his arms. If he pressed her against him any more, she would be lost. ‘No, no, it isn’t the same thing,’ she insisted, recognising the panic but also the longing in her voice and hoping he wouldn’t notice it too. ‘Honestly, I’ll take an aspirin and get into bed,’ she reiterated shakily.

  His mouth twisted in a smile she found hard to understand. ‘It’s all right, Aida. I can take a hint.’ He let his arms fall to his side. ‘Go ahead and sleep. I’ll be in the bar downstairs if you need anything. Just ring reception and they’ll fetch me.’

  Aida watched Phares close the door behind him and instantly felt bad. She had almost asked him to stay, but she needed to be alone; she needed time to think, needed to fight the tumult that had begun in her the moment she had seen Nairy coming out of the cloakroom. She didn’t want to doubt him. He had finally declared his love for her, and surely he couldn’t have made love to her the way he had the night before if his feelings had not been as deep as he claimed? Still, none of it added up; there was a part of the puzzle that eluded her, and as long as the mystery went unsolved, she couldn’t relax.

  * * *

  It was the low, insistent burr of the bedside telephone that eventually woke Aida. The alarm clock showed one forty-five in the morning. She was alone in bed. Groggily, she reached for the receiver.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘There is a phone call for Dr Phares Pharaony,’ the hotel receptionist’s voice informed her.

  ‘Umm … a phone call? But …’

  ‘Shall I put the person through?’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course. Dr Pharaon
y is at the bar downstairs, but I’ll take the call.’

  Who could it be at this hour? Camelia? Was she in trouble again?

  ‘Hello?’ she said.

  ‘Is Phares there?’

  It was a woman, and although Aida had barely ever heard Nairy’s voice she knew immediately that it was the Armenian model.

  ‘No, who is this?’

  ‘Where is Phares?’

  ‘Who is this?’

  ‘Then he must be on his way,’ the woman murmured, and put down the receiver.

  For a few seconds Aida remained nonplussed, and paused halfway out of bed, shivering a little. Then, without giving it a second thought, she went to the wardrobe, pulled on some clothes and shoes, pulled a brush through her hair, and left the room.

  She headed straight for the bar. Only a few English officers remained, who turned around as she entered. Ignoring the strange looks they gave her, she went up to the barman: ‘Have you seen Dr Pharaony? I am his wife. I have an urgent telephone message to give him.’

  The barman smiled obligingly. ‘He received a phone call here just a moment ago, Mrs Pharaony. I saw him leave the hotel.’

  Aida paled.

  So, he’d gone to her.

  They hadn’t been married forty-eight hours and already he was cheating on her. How could he? He must be playing some kind of cruel game with her. Panic gripped her. This couldn’t be happening. She must not let it happen. She would wait for him … face him … it was the only way. She needed to get to the bottom of this if she wanted to save her marriage.

  * * *

  Dawn was pointing when Phares finally returned to the hotel. Despite Aida’s agitation, exhaustion had got the better of her and she’d fallen asleep on the sofa. A hand touched her shoulder lightly, and she jerked awake.

  ‘Aida, chérie, what are you doing, sleeping on the sofa like this?’

  She opened her eyes and looked into her husband’s face: he looked tired and drawn.

  ‘Phares …? I was waiting up for you.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have.’

  She sat up, trying to gather her wits. ‘Where were you?’

  ‘At the hospital, where else?’

  She tried to speak composedly but her voice shook.

  ‘Don’t lie to me, Phares.’

  He sank down into the chair opposite and looked her straight in the eye. ‘I’m not lying to you,’ he replied calmly.

  ‘I’m asking you again. Where were you last night and this morning? I have a right to know.’

  Phares went to the small minibar in the wall and took out a bottle of cognac. Pouring a large measure into a glass, he said, ‘First, I was at the bar, as I told you I would be, and then I went to the hospital.’ He took a gulp of brandy and studied her face, frowning. ‘Although we have a life together, I also have a life that belongs to others, and you, my dear wife, will have to learn to accept it and trust me. You married a doctor, remember?’

  The thought that he was reminding her of their marriage made her vision fill with a strange red haze. She laughed bitterly. ‘Oh yes, the perfect alibi! Every time you need one, you can claim you were at the hospital. How convenient.’

  Phares caught his breath, the knuckles of his right hand showing bone white against the crystal of the brandy glass in his hand. His brows lowered over dangerously glittering eyes. ‘How dare you say such a thing to me!’

  For an instant, Aida was afraid at the look on his face. His expression had never been so closed to her, as if all the muscles were iron, but she refused to cower away from him. His words were fuel upon the anger that she had left smouldering inside her for so long, showing its smoke now in her blazing blue irises.

  ‘I will not have the wool pulled over my eyes. I was warned about you and about this affair of yours, but I still married you.’

  ‘Stop this, Aida. You’re overtired …’ He reached out to touch her and in a flare of temper, she flung his hand away.

  ‘Do not speak to me as if I’m a child! You and Nairy are lovers. You married me for my land, but she’s the one you love. She’s the one you can’t live without. All you’re thinking about is your Coptic pride, adding more riches to your family’s wealth.’

  Angry indignation flared fiercely in his eyes. ‘By God, that isn’t true!’ He glowered down at her, barely in control of his emotions.

  ‘Then give me an explanation, Phares. I saw you together at the hospital on the day you were supposed to meet me for lunch. I finished my errands early and went there to see you. As I got there, I saw you both … she was in your arms, and I heard you tell her you’d meet her that evening.’ The words were tumbling out in a torrent of pain as she wiped the tears from her face angrily. ‘Then on the way to the wedding, I received a note telling me not to marry you because your heart belonged to someone else … It said to ask you where you’d been for the two nights before the wedding. And then tonight, I saw you at the opera. You gave her a note … Was it possibly our room number, Phares?’ Aida snapped back, her cheeks aflame with fury, all resolution to hold on to her dignity gone. ‘She rang you in the middle of the night and I took the call, but when I went down to the bar you’d gone.’ She put her head in her hands. ‘We’re supposed to be on our honeymoon,’ she whispered. ‘Then you come back to me at dawn. What am I supposed to think?’

  Phares drained his glass in one go. Thrusting a hand through his black hair, he drew a deep, audible breath, like a man about to dive into the depths.

  ‘Aida, I will give you the information you’re after this time but make no mistake, I will not be put through an interrogation and asked to account for my whereabouts ever again. You have married a surgeon, but that is beside the point. Marriage in my opinion should be based on trust. If not, there is nothing there.’ A strange look crossed his face and he hesitated before continuing. ‘I could have put you through a thousand questions when you came back from Kasr El Nawafeer …’

  Aida opened her mouth to say something, but Phares stopped her with a peremptory hand. ‘Let me finish … But I trusted you, because I know you and I love you. If that wasn’t the case, I wouldn’t have married you. I never hid from you that Nairy and I had an affair for a couple of years, but it ended over six months ago. Exactly what I told you before, and it hasn’t changed. The day you saw me at the hospital, I was arranging to meet Nairy and her mother that evening to perform an emergency post-operative procedure on Mrs Paplosian, who’d had a serious embolism. I went there to make sure she was all right. She is my patient and whether you like it or not, she has priority over my personal life, especially if her life is in danger after an operation I have performed. Tonight, I went to the hospital because Nairy and her mother wanted to be reassured that she is out of danger. I would have passed by in the morning, but I preferred to finish with this tonight and be free for you today. I have never been away from the hospital for so long before, and it has unsettled a lot of the staff. It’ll be almost impossible to get through to me on the dahabeyeh.’

  Aida knew that she was hearing the truth.

  ‘Y-you should have told me.’

  He took another sip of cognac and shook his head. ‘Maybe this time I was wrong in not telling you, but in all sincerity, you took so long in making up your mind to marry me, I didn’t think you cared this deeply. You never told me you loved me before, I’m not a mind reader.’ His expression softened. ‘I only realised it fully when we made love yesterday. Aida, I love you, but I’m not one to answer questions about my whereabouts. You of all people should respect the principle of doctor-patient confidentiality so if I tell you I’m off on business, you must trust me. It’s the foundation of all relationships, and especially of marriage.’

  The look in Phares’s eyes, his earnest words, wiped away any doubts in Aida’s mind that she wasn’t loved by her husband. Her heart swelled with emotion. This time the tears that ran down her face were ones of relief.

  ‘Phares, I’m so sorry.’

  Unable to stay away from him any
longer, she went to him, sliding her arms around his waist and pressing her face against the buttoned fastening on his shirt. For a few moments they remained like that, Phares’s body stiff and unyielding against hers. Then his control seemed to snap, and with a groan, he gathered her to him. One hard hand turned her face up to his, cupping the fragile hollows of her throat while his mouth played around the edge of hers, coaxing her lips apart before taking passionate possession of them, kissing her with a hungry need that bruised her lips. She kissed him back, wanting it never to stop, loving the feel of his body against hers, loving the smell and taste of him.

  Finally, she drew away reluctantly.

  ‘Phares, you look so tired. You need some sleep. Let’s get into bed and we’ll sleep for a few hours nestled against each other.’

  ‘Yes, my wise little wife.’ His eyes glinted mischievously. ‘I think you’re right. If we don’t exercise some restraint, we won’t be able to face the camel journey back to the dahabeyeh this afternoon.’ He gave her a peck on the nose, lifted her into his arms and set her on the bed, before tearing off his clothes and sliding under the sheets next to her, naked.

  * * *

  Moored at a tiny oasis on the banks of the Nile, Matet, the Pharaony dahabeyeh, was named after the sun boat of Ra, the sun god in Ancient Egyptian mythology. The sky was strewn with streamers of pale rose-coloured clouds, the afternoon light turning the calm river golden by the time Aida and Phares arrived. Leaving their camels with dragomen, they strolled down the hill, through palm groves, along the muddy footpath of the tiny oasis where lemon, guava and mango trees bloomed.

  Several young fellahas passed them, bearing earthenware jars filled to the brim with river water. Straight-backed and bare-footed, they were heading up the dune to the row of long, low mud-brick houses on the topmost ridge, with that easy carriage that comes from balancing heavy loads on one’s head from childhood. A group of women seated on the bank of the Nile, not far from where the dahabeyeh was moored, were washing their clothes in the murky water. As Phares and Aida reached the bottom of the hill, they rose, coming forward in their long, black, full-sleeved garments, trains dragging over the sand behind them like court dresses. They smiled, flashing teeth in dark faces, and spoke between themselves in hushed, shy voices, curious big dark eyes surrounded by kohl staring almost reverently at the young couple.