by Trish Morey
Rashid’s first thought was of Tora. Her kiss had haunted him last night, as he had lain on his bed waiting for sleep to claim him, her kiss and the feel of her smooth fingers on his arm and her wide cognac eyes.
‘Why do you want to meet her?’
‘Well, she is your sister, isn’t she? You don’t have to keep her locked away in a cupboard somewhere. You do let her see the light of day sometimes, don’t you?’
‘Oh, Atiyah,’ he said, struck by Zoltan’s words, because once again Tora had said something similar.
‘Who did you think I meant?’ asked Zoltan, and his friend looked at him as if he thought he was losing it in the desert heat.
Maybe he was. He blinked. ‘I’ll send for her,’ he said easily, because it was a good idea, because it meant he would see Tora again, and after last night’s sweet encounter he yearned to.
But when Atiyah arrived, it was not Tora’s arms that bore her but Yousra’s instead, and he felt a piercing stab of disappointment.
‘Oh, Rashid,’ Zoltan said, ‘what a beauty,’ and he surprised the other man by taking the baby and holding her in front of him to look at her properly. Atiyah’s dark eyes were wide and uncertain, the bottom lip of her little Cupid’s-bow mouth ready to start quivering. But before it could, he had the child tucked into his arms and was sitting down on the sofa again, and Rashid blinked at the ease with which he handled the child. To him she was too small, too full of traps for the unwary. ‘You are going to have your work cut out for you when she becomes a young woman.’
Was he? Something else to look forward to. Wonderful.
The baby started fussing and squirming but Zoltan remained unfazed and uncovered her tiny toes and stroked the bottom of her feet with his middle finger. Tiny feet, thought Rashid, looking on, struck by life in miniature.
‘Are you ticklish, little one?’ Zoltan said, and Atiyah’s little legs started pumping, chuckles now interspersed with her complaints. For a while it looked as if Zoltan had the baby’s measure, but soon her face became redder and more screwed up and the chuckles gave way to her cries.
‘Whoa,’ said Zoltan, admitting defeat as her cries became bellows. ‘I think it’s time you went to your big brother, little one.’
And before he could say no, his tiny sister had been deposited into his hands. He stared down at the squawking bundle in his lap, wondering at the weight and her energy and the power of her lungs.
His sister.
His blood.
Who looked nothing like she had when she’d been sleeping.
And his gut churned anew as he tried unsuccessfully to quieten her.
There was no quietening her. The baby screamed and no wonder. Because what did he have to offer her? He knew nothing of what a baby would need. He had no experience—nothing but the shred of a lullaby...
‘Yousra!’ he snapped to the young woman who was watching helplessly on. ‘Take Atiyah. There is somewhere I have to be.’
Zoltan frowned as Yousra took the child. ‘Don’t we have the next meeting with the council coming up shortly?’
‘I won’t be long.’
* * *
Tora’s blood spiked with heat when she saw the name pop into her inbox. She had half a mind to delete the message straight away but the subject header stalled her—Good news.
What would he think would be good news to her—unless he’d had a change of fortunes or mind and somehow managed to recover her funds? She opened the message.
Dear Cousin Vicky
An opportunity’s just come up to make some quick money, so obviously I thought of you!
I’m expecting some funds to come in and meanwhile they’re promised elsewhere. I need half a million dollars fast, just to tide me over, and wondered if you might mortgage your flat for a couple of weeks to help me out? It’s only temporary until those funds come in, and the good news is I’ll be able to pay you a one-hundred-thousand-dollar fee guaranteed.
Let me know ASAP.
Your cousin
Matt
PS Like your folks used to say, blood is thicker than water after all!
Good news? Tora stared incredulously at the screen. Her cousin must think her stupid. First he screwed her out of her inheritance and then he wanted her home? Pigs might fly. And as for blood being thicker than water—after the way he’d betrayed the trust of her parents and of her, he was no family to her at all.
She was about to hit the delete button and send the message to the trash where it belonged. ‘ASAP’ be damned—let him wait for an answer that would never come.
And then she had a better idea. Much better.
So she hit Reply and changed the subject header to Better News! and started typing.
Dear Matt...
She added kisses at the end and then deleted them. No point laying it on too thick. She’d just hit Send with a satisfying click when another message pinged into her inbox. This time she was eager to open it.
We’re on our way! Sally wrote. Next stop, Germany!
Yes! She fired off a quick ‘good luck’ reply and this time added plenty of kisses before she sent it off with a sigh. At least that was going right.
‘Tora,’ she heard Rashid bellowing from somewhere inside her suite. ‘Tora!’ He appeared at the doorway to the terrace. ‘What are you doing out here?’
‘You couldn’t just knock like a normal person?’ she said drily, wondering where the fire was.
‘Why didn’t you bring Atiyah when I asked for her?’
‘Because you summoned Atiyah, not me. And Yousra is perfectly capable of delivering a child for your inspection. She did bring you Atiyah?’
‘Yes, but that’s not the point. You should have brought her.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re her nanny. She’s your responsibility.’
‘No, Rashid. She’s your responsibility, but you like to pass it off to me and that’s a bad thing.’
‘Why?’
‘Because she’s becoming dependent on me. She’s bonding. Yesterday when I came home from our day out, Yousra was exhausted from trying to settle her.’
‘She started screaming when Yousra brought her down.’
They heard her coming, still crying as Yousra entered the apartments. ‘I’m sorry, Sheikha,’ the young woman said as Tora went to meet her, taking the child and hugging her to her chest.
‘It’s okay,’ Tora said, to both the baby and Yousra as Atiyah grabbed her hair in her tiny hands and her tears soaked her gown. ‘It’s okay.’ Tora sent Yousra off to fetch some warm milk as the baby snuffled into her, her cries slowly abating.
‘You see,’ she said, speaking softly to Rashid as she swayed. ‘I had to send her with Yousra as she’s become too attached to me. You need to get more carers or take care of her yourself.’
He looked taken aback. ‘But if she feels safe with you—’
‘I’m leaving, Rashid. Going home as soon as our marriage can be dissolved. Or had you forgotten?’
He shook his head. ‘So stay longer if Atiyah needs you. Do you need to go back straight away?’
‘Stay for how long? And then what? She grows even more dependent on me. How is that going to work? That’s no kind of solution.’
‘How much would it take to make you change your mind?’
She sighed as Yousra returned with the milk. ‘You know, Rashid, there are some things in the world that money can’t fix.’
‘Then show me how to do that,’ he growled as Tora sat down to feed Atiyah. ‘Show me how to hold her so she doesn’t cry.’
Tora blinked up at him. ‘Do you really mean it?’
‘Of course, I mean it. She is my sister. How do you think it makes me look if I do not know how to hold her?’
And Tora l
ooked down at the infant, still snuffling, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from crying. She could say no now, to save Atiyah any more distress, but that would be fair to neither of them. So instead she waited until the baby was a little more relaxed, her eyelids fluttering closed as she drank. ‘Then sit down and I’ll pass her over to you and maybe she won’t notice.’
Neither of them really believed that, but Rashid did as she suggested and Tora gently passed the baby over. Atiyah instantly jolted into awareness, her eyes wide open, her feeding stopped as she worked out what had changed in her world. ‘It’s okay, Atiyah, you’re safe,’ Tora crooned, even as she tried to show him how better to cradle the infant by relaxing and softening his arms.
Atiyah wasn’t convinced and in the end they both conceded defeat, letting Tora take her back.
‘I can’t stay,’ he said. ‘I have to go.’
Tora nodded, rocking the child in her arms a little as Atiyah resumed feeding, keeping her eyes open this time for any more tricks. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘It will get easier, I promise,’ and she couldn’t help smiling as he left, because Rashid had tried.
* * *
Tora’s words stayed with him as he made his way back through the palace to the meeting on foreign policy with a heavy heart made heavier by the fact that nothing seemed to work with Atiyah, even when he wanted it to. He’d tried. By God, he’d tried to do all the things Tora had told him, to relax and yet hold her securely so that she’d felt safe, to sway her gently without jerking, to comfort her.
‘There are some things in the world that money can’t fix.’ Didn’t he know it? She was preaching to the converted there. There was no amount of money he could throw at the predicament he was in and make it go away.
But surely her case was different. Why did she have to go? If she really cared about Atiyah and didn’t want to upset her, surely she could agree to stay a bit longer. She didn’t have to rush off. At least to give him enough time to get used to his new responsibilities.
Besides, he was intrigued by her, this woman who could be temptress, Madonna, businesswoman and even comforter. As she’d comforted him last night when he’d gone to her room with her quiet words and her sympathetic eyes.
And he didn’t want her to go.
Not yet.
‘Ah,’ said Kareem coming out of the meeting room he was just heading into. ‘We have been waiting for you to begin.’
And Rashid knew what she’d said was right. No amount of money in the world could help him now.
* * *
Tora and Yousra were sitting in the Pavilion of Mahabbah the next morning where it was still deliciously cool alongside the lake, a soft breeze stirring the curtains. Atiyah lay on a rug on her stomach on the floor attempting mini push-ups on her chubby arms. Tora was keeping out of her line of sight, but every now and then the baby would look around until she found her before resuming her exercises, assuring herself that, yes, Tora was still there. She was so alert and way too knowing for such a small bundle, Tora thought, and she was just about to disappear for a walk around the garden to see if she might forget, even for a little while, when they heard the voices, young and older.
Through the gossamer curtains Tora could see the three women, two striking dark-haired beauties and one blonde and equally stunning, heading towards the pavilion with a clutch of children in tow.
‘It looks like we have visitors,’ she said to Yousra. ‘Do you know who they are?’
‘No,’ the other woman said, watching their progress. ‘I’ve never seen them before.’
Tora forgot about hiding and scooped up Atiyah from the floor, the child gumming at her fist as the women hovered at the door. ‘We’re sorry to intrude, but we were told we’d find Atiyah here. We couldn’t wait to meet her.’
‘This is Atiyah,’ said Tora, holding the baby in her lap.
‘Oh, she’s gorgeous,’ said the first, coming closer. ‘You must excuse us. We’ve been so excited since we heard the news that Rashid had a baby sister. We’re the wives of Rashid’s desert brothers—his good friends—and we’ve arrived for the coronation. I’m Aisha, wife to Zoltan, who has been here advising Rashid, and this is my sister Marina, wife to Bahir, and Amber, wife to Kadar. And these,’ she said, gesturing to the active group around her, ‘are our children.’
‘It’s lovely to meet you,’ said Tora, introducing herself, feeling a little overwhelmed but delighted too that Atiyah would have more distractions over the coming days. There were three toddlers and two children a little older, a girl and a boy. Other children would be the best entertainment of all. Already she was watching them eagerly, smiling when they came to say hello to her, kicking her little legs with delight.
‘One more baby for the desert brothers tribe,’ laughed the second dark-haired woman called Marina who was kneeling down and holding Atiyah’s hands. ‘And now the children have an aunty. Hello, little Atiyah,’ she said with a broad smile, earning one back from the infant.
‘You’re Australian,’ said the blonde woman called Amber, who settled herself down on the sofa next to Tora, a sizeable bump under her dress. ‘Me, too. Where are you from?’
‘Sydney,’ Tora said.
‘I’m from Melbourne.’
‘And now you live—somewhere around here?’
‘Kadar and I live mostly in Istanbul. We were married six months ago.’ She smiled. ‘It’s kind of a long story.’ She patted her stomach and her smile widened. ‘We’re expecting our own first baby in a few months. But how did you end up here, looking after Atiyah?’
It was Tora’s turn to smile. ‘That’s kind of a long story, too. But I’m only here temporarily. I’ll be going home soon.’
‘Oh,’ said Aisha, exchanging glances with the other women, ‘for a moment I thought—I was hoping...’
‘We were all hoping,’ her sister said. ‘As soon as we saw you, we were hoping. Rashid needs a good woman, and we thought, maybe he has found one at last.’
‘He’s the only desert brother left,’ added Amber, ‘and now he will need a woman by his side, more than ever.’
Tora said nothing, just bounced Atiyah on her knee, silently cursing this stupid marriage and the position it put her in, because it wasn’t her place to say anything. Just then the peacocks put in an appearance and distracted everyone and the conversation changed direction and Tora could breathe again and enjoy being in the company of other women.
They drank honey tea and laughed and talked of their children and their husbands. They were bright and beautiful like butterflies in the garden and Tora found herself wishing she could be one of them, but that would mean marrying Rashid for real.
‘Forgive me for interrupting,’ Kareem said, appearing at the doorway to the pavilion with a gracious bow, ‘but His Excellency would like to see you privately, Sheikha Victoria.’
Aisha’s ears pricked up first. ‘Sheikha?’
‘I thought that’s what he said,’ Marina said.
Amber was staring at her strangely. ‘But wouldn’t that mean...?’
Tora shook her head, excusing herself as she swept past them, her face ablaze with heat. ‘It’s not what you think...’
* * *
‘I’ve been thinking,’ said Rashid a few minutes later, rubbing his chin as he paced the Persian rug in his big study, ‘now that my friends are here with their wives and families, we need to be careful about them getting the wrong idea about us.’
He paced the other way. ‘I know my friends and they’ll blow it out of all proportion so I’ve decided it’s best if I ask Kareem to be careful how he addresses you and I tell them that you’re simply filling in for the role of my consort for the coronation. I think it’s better that they don’t know about the marriage at all.’
He suddenly stopped pacing and looked up at her, his eyes panicked. ‘What do you think?�
�
Tora swallowed as she stood there, her fingers tangling as she selected her words carefully. ‘I think it might actually be a bit late for that.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘WHAT?’ ZOLTAN’S HEAD swivelled from Aisha to Rashid when the women joined them before lunch. ‘You’re already married? You sly dog! And you made out like it was the furthest thing from your mind.’
‘But it is!’
‘So how does that work when you’re already married?’
‘Because it’s not a real marriage!’
‘I want to know how come you didn’t invite your best friends?’ demanded Bahir.
‘Yeah,’ Kadar said. ‘We invited you to our weddings.’
‘Right, you really want to know why I didn’t invite you to my fake marriage? Maybe it’s because Kareem married us in the plane on the way over here. Sorry, but when you’re flying at forty thousand feet it makes it a bit awkward to get the wedding invitations out.’
‘But when we were talking before, you acted as if you weren’t married at all,’ said Zoltan. ‘Like anything like that happening was years away.’
‘Did any of you guys hear me? It’s not a real marriage!’ He gave a long sigh. He’d known this would happen. He’d damn well known it. ‘Look, I had to marry someone, in order to adopt Atiyah.’
‘Why did you have to adopt Atiyah?’ asked Marina. ‘She’s your sister, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, but our father was supposed to have died in a helicopter crash thirty years ago and the people believe that and— Oh, what the hell does it matter why? Kareem said she had to be adopted and in order to do that, I had to be married. End of story.’
‘Hardly!’ snorted Bahir. ‘We’re just getting to the good stuff. So this woman volunteered to marry you to get you out of a tight spot, did she?’
‘Tora,’ said Aisha. ‘Her name is Tora. I like her.’
‘Me, too,’ said her sister. ‘And she’s gorgeous.’
‘She’s Australian,’ chimed in Amber with a grin. ‘What’s not to love?’
