She paused and waited for their reaction. Philippe was hesitant, as Beatrice had known he would be. ‘Where would they all stay?’
‘Is there room at your chateau?’ Nick asked.
‘Not really,’ Philippe replied. ‘But they could stay at a hotel in Bordeaux or Saint-Émilion.’
‘They will not stay in a hotel, Philippe,’ Beatrice stated firmly. ‘There are plenty of beautiful rooms at the chateau and if absolutely necessary there are a couple of very nice rooms in Veronique’s auberge.’
‘I think they would be more comfortable in a hotel,’ Philippe insisted.
‘No, Philippe.’ Beatrice was adamant. ‘They need to stay in the chateau. I want them to soak up the ambience and wake up to the view of the vineyards. I want them to understand the whole history of the chateau and hear the stories about your father and your grandfather. I want them to feel that they could share that history and become part of the family. If they feel that, cheri, if they feel that they will become part of something very special, then they will buy your wines.’
‘She’s good.’ Nick gazed at her in admiration. ‘She’s very good. I like the sound of this.’ He reached for his cigarettes, oblivious to the anguish he was causing the other two. ‘Does the nearby auberge do good food?’
‘It does,’ Beatrice replied. ‘But the other idea was that you should cook for them.’ She turned to Philippe. ‘We could put tables in the old chai and throw open the doors. We will seat them so that they face the vineyards sloping down to the river, they’ll love it, everyone does.’
‘You obviously have it all planned out.’ Nick nodded at her appraisingly. ‘Sounds bloody brilliant. Always slightly daunting cooking for fellow chefs but if I don’t cock it up then it will do my reputation no harm.’ He leapt up enthusiastically as thoughts raced through his head. ‘I could cook Moroccan, your wine complimented it beautifully the other evening.’
‘What do you think, cheri?’ Beatrice turned to Philippe.
‘I like the idea in theory but I’m worried about the practice.’ He was cautious but he could certainly see the potential. ‘How many are we talking?’
‘Enough to make it worth your while but not too many, we want them to think they belong to an exclusive club,’ Nick said.
‘Philippe, there is more than enough room if we incorporate Veronique.’
‘It’s not the room I’m thinking about, Bea, it’s the money.’
‘Let’s not worry about that right now.’
‘When should we worry about it?’
‘Later.’
‘It will cost a bit,’ Nick replied a little awkwardly. ‘If we are inviting the crème de la crème of chefs and wine connoisseurs.’
‘See.’ Philippe looked across at Beatrice.
‘There are ways and means,’ she replied vaguely. ‘The most important thing is that we think it’s a good idea.’
‘I do, I really do,’ Nick responded eagerly.
‘What ways and means?’ Philippe was like a dog with a bone.
‘We’ll talk about it later, cheri.’ She frowned at him. ‘Nick doesn’t want to hear us going on about money matters.’
‘On the contrary,’ Nick said. ‘I could listen to you two all day, you make a brilliant double act, but I don’t want to be late for my lunchtime date with Bushara.’
‘Well, we have plenty of time to fine-tune things in the next few days,’ Beatrice said.
‘Actually we don’t,’ Philippe said. ‘Nick thinks he may go home tomorrow.’
‘No, not you too!’ Beatrice cried. ‘I’m clearly losing my touch. Normally people want to stay longer, not the other way around.’
‘Who else wants to go?’ Nick asked, although he felt pretty sure he knew the answer.
‘Sky, of course,’ Beatrice replied. ‘She feels that she is in the way here. She thinks she ought to go home and face the music.’
‘Well, one half of the music is here.’
‘I said as much but she is pretty adamant.’ Beatrice longed to grab one of Nick’s cigarettes. ‘She is scared and lonely and very vulnerable right now.’
‘Oh, God, I know.’ Nick looked wretched. ‘I haven’t helped, but I’m determined to give it one last shot.’
‘You don’t have much time,’ Beatrice said.
‘Why, when is she going?’ Nick looked panicked. ‘She’s not going today, is she?’
‘She wanted to, but Gail has asked her to go to Tariq’s to lend moral support and she has agreed.’
‘Of course she did, she is loving and selfless and would do anything for anyone.’
Beatrice nodded in agreement. Philippe kept quiet, he hadn’t quite seen this side of Sky.
‘OK, tonight it is then,’ Nick said determinedly. ‘Tonight I won’t take no for an answer. Tonight we are going to sit down and talk, even if I have to tie her to the bloody chair myself.’ He stood up. ‘But first a lunch date with Bushara and the man you call crazy.’
‘Maad, his name is Maad!’ Beatrice laughed. ‘Have fun.’ And once again she and Philippe exchanged smiles.
‘I’m not being given the full picture here,’ Nick said, looking from one to the other, but they remained silent.
Half an hour later he realised why. He stood in the middle of a small courtyard garden with his jaw on the floor, staring with astonishment at the sight before him. Bushara was grinning; everyone had this reaction, it would have been impossible not to.
Maad was padding towards them. Dark brown eyes glinted beneath heavy brows and a huge bulging forehead. An enormous flat nose seemed to spread over most of his face. Thick black fuzzy hair covered all the parts of his body that were on display. Huge, powerful arms hung loosely by his side. His jaw protruded and his teeth were enormous. If Nick hadn’t been rooted to the spot he may well have turned and fled. Anyone still questioning Darwin’s theory of evolution would have had their doubts dispelled at the sight of this silverback gorilla wearing a chef’s apron.
‘Welcome.’ Maad hugged Bushara and then held out his hand to Nick. ‘And you are the chef?’
Nick merely nodded. Maad nodded back and led them both into the kitchen.
The couple of hours that Nick spent in Maad’s kitchen were to have a profound influence on his life. In years to come Nick would be famous for the atmosphere that pervaded his kitchens and he would tell everyone the story behind it, the story of the Moroccan chef Maad who had cast a spell over him.
Maad moved around the kitchen with amazing agility and dexterity, his powerful arms lifting cast-iron pots as if they were made of plastic. His huge hands displayed a delicacy that defied belief. He was everywhere at once, guiding, steering and advising, and his team clearly adored him.
Remembering only too well the taunts and vicious comments that had come his way when he was starting out, Nick always tried hard to be kind and encouraging to his junior staff but was aware that sometimes he fell well short of the mark. He prided himself on remaining relatively calm and cool in the kitchen but compared to the serenity that ruled in Maad’s kitchen, his was bedlam.
Here there was humour, not harsh words, when a young lad dropped a lamb tagine. There was a beautiful tenderness as Maad gently steadied the shaking hand of a young girl preparing the dainty desserts. There was an atmosphere of peace and tranquility that Nick had never witnessed in a kitchen before, and he understood with absolute certainty that this was something he should and would emulate.
He knew without having to taste anything that the food would be sublime and he was right. When Maad settled him and Bushara in the beautiful tiny courtyard and he took his first mouthful he was blown away.
They took their time savouring every last morsel, and for a few golden hours Nick forgot his troubles and concentrated on the moment. It was now and he was here, and as he polished off the delectable dessert of orange blossom pastries he thought that, frankly, life could not get much better.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Gail and I followed Radar thro
ugh the narrow alleyways. Sonny skipped along by his side, keeping up a constant stream of chatter.
‘I’ve never seen him quite so happy,’ Gail said to me.
‘He certainly seems very at home here,’ I agreed, and then wondered if yet again I had perhaps said the wrong thing, but Gail didn’t seem to notice.
‘I’m not sure how he is ever going to return to normal.’
‘Maybe he won’t have to?’ I ventured.
Gail shook her head, it was clear that she couldn’t let herself even begin to contemplate that.
Radar stopped outside an old stone archway which led to a thick wooden door. Next to it there appeared to be some sort of pottery storage, glazed and unglazed tagines and pots of varying shapes and sizes tumbled down the steps and spilled out onto the pavement. They were piled precariously on top of each other, each one a slightly different shade of terracotta. The sun cast interesting shadows and I longed to paint them but contented myself with a photo instead. On the corner opposite a man was frying some sort of spicy kebab and my mouth watered. I had a weakness for kebabs.
I turned to ask Gail if she and Sonny would like some but Gail was standing stock still looking alarmingly pale. Abandoning all thoughts of kebabs I went up and gave my new friend a hug.
‘I’m here with you. I won’t leave your side.’ I squeezed her shoulders tightly. ‘Don’t worry, Gail, it’s going to be fine, and if you want to leave then just give me the nod and we’ll walk straight back to the riad.’
Gail smiled gratefully. ‘Thank God you’re here, Sky, I can’t thank you enough.’
Radar was banging on the large wooden door which opened immediately as if someone had been standing behind it, which indeed Tariq was.
If Gail was nervous then Tariq was doubly so. Before their arrival he’d been pacing around the courtyard all morning unable to settle.
‘Tariq, sit down,’ his sister Jasmina had said. ‘You are making me nervous. You’ll bring on the baby at this rate.’ She patted her stomach.
‘I just don’t know what to expect.’ Tariq came to a standstill in front of her.
‘Of course you know what to expect.’ Their father came into the courtyard. ‘It’s not like you don’t know her. You have a son together.’
‘I don’t know what she might be thinking.’
‘Then you will have to ask her,’ his father said drily.
‘It’s not that simple!’ Tariq exploded. ‘I just don’t know what is going to happen next. What’s the next stage?’
‘It seems fairly obvious to me.’ His father ignored the warning glance that Jasmina shot him. ‘You are in love with the girl, you have never looked at another woman for five years despite my best efforts, and now you find you have a son. I have no doubts about what the next stage is. It should have been the first stage.’
‘Just take it easy, Tariq.’ Jasmina stood up and laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Take one day at a time.’ She smiled at him. She had never seen her brother in such a pent-up state. ‘I imagine Gail will be very nervous too. We all are.’
‘What is there to be nervous about?’ Their father rolled his eyes and left the courtyard to check that Emil had bought the kebabs as instructed. Every boy liked kebabs. He himself had made the fresh lemonade that morning and had spent hours the day before dusting and polishing the old train set of Tariq’s. He couldn’t wait to meet his grandson and was as nervous as a kitten but was damned if he was going to show it.
‘He’s as nervous as hell.’ Jasmina laughed. ‘You should see what he has asked them to prepare in the kitchen. There is ice cream, there is honeyed rice pudding, there are endless pastries and just now he sent Emil out to buy kebabs. There is everything a young boy could possibly want.’
‘I hope there are other things for Gail and Sky.’ Tariq managed a small smile.
‘There are plenty. That bit I oversaw myself.’ Jasmina grinned at him, pleased to see him relaxing a bit. ‘Who is Sky again?’
‘Another girl who is staying at the riad.’ Tariq shrugged. ‘I think Gail felt happier having someone else here, no idea why, God knows what she thinks we are going to do?’ He frowned. ‘I honestly think she believes we may kidnap him.’
‘Tariq, of course she wants moral support. I would feel the same. What does Sky do?’
‘Can’t really remember, she’s some sort of designer or artist.’ He looked at his watch for the hundredth time that morning. ‘I’ll just go and see if I can see them.’ He hurried to the door just as Radar started banging on it.
Tariq ushered us into the courtyard where a young, heavily pregnant woman and a white-haired gentleman stood waiting for us.
‘Gail, Sky, may I present my father Amir and my sister Jasmina,’ Tariq said, a touch pompously.
I glanced over at Gail, who was standing stock still again. I was slightly uncertain what to do, did one shake hands in Morocco? Tariq’s introduction had been so formal I felt as if something was expected of us.
Sensing my confusion, Jasmina stepped forward. ‘Lovely to meet you, Gail. We have heard so much about you.’ She smiled warmly at her and took her hands before turning to me. ‘And Sky, welcome to our home.’
Sonny was hiding behind Gail. He had no idea how important this meeting was but he seemed to sense that his mother was nervous.
‘And this must be Sonny.’ Jasmina continued, laughing at the little boy peeping from behind his mum.
Gail finally found her voice. ‘Yes, this is Sonny.’ She drew the little boy from behind her and placed her hands reassuringly on his shoulders. I watched her take a deep breath and moved closer to her side. ‘Sonny, sweetheart, say hello to everyone.’
Jasmina and Amir were staring open-mouthed. Sonny was a miniature Tariq.
‘Welcome.’ Amir held out his hands to Gail and I watched him scrutinise the face of the lady who had captured his son.
Gail was clearly nervous but greeted him with a steady smile. He nodded in approval before turning to me and then finally squatting down to the little lad.
He smiled gently but I could see that he was itching to hug him tightly. ‘Sonny, I am Amir.’ The little boy solemnly shook his hand. ‘Sonny, is it true that you like animals?’ Sonny’s face lit up and he nodded enthusiastically, looking around for evidence of a tortoise or cat. There seemed to be animals everywhere in Marrakech. ‘Well then,’ Amir continued, ‘I have a treat for you.’
Tariq and Jasmina exchanged a puzzled look. They had no animals in the house.
‘Sonny, in my study I have a parrot. Would you like to see him?’ Amir held out his hand.
Tariq looked astounded. ‘A parrot?’
‘Yes, a parrot, Fatima’s parrot. I borrowed him for the day.’ Amir winked at him and standing up turned to Gail and myself. ‘Do please sit down and we will have some tea,’ he said, ushering us towards a table.
I was utterly charmed by the old man. There was something delightfully old-fashioned about him, although he was childlike in his enthusiasm for Sonny. I had an immediate sense that here was someone who was trustworthy and honourable. I knew instinctively that Gail would have nothing to fear and I hoped she felt the same.
I gazed around me, their home was beautiful. A small fountain surrounded by dove grey and white tiles played in the middle of the courtyard. Ornate carved wooden pillars reached up to the balcony on the first level and burnished brass lanterns hung from the canopy. Exquisite white furnishing, gleaming cacti in large dark wooden boxes. It was understated in a very expensive way. There was an air of decadence and history and I began to realise that Tariq came from wealthy stock.
I wondered if Gail would live here, the choice between here or her house in Chigwell seemed a no-brainer to me but then I wasn’t her. She could have been living here for the last five years if that damned sister of hers hadn’t interfered. I was stunned that anyone could be that selfish. It was obvious that Gail had spoiled her rotten, understandably, but clearly it had done neither of them any favours.
; ‘This is one of the oldest buildings in Marrakech.’ Amir spoke proudly, confirming my suspicions.
‘It is magnificent.’ I turned to him. ‘You have a very beautiful home indeed.’
‘I will show you more later, but first, some refreshments.’ He settled everyone down at the vast table. He was the perfect host, making sure we had everything we needed before turning to Gail.
‘May I take Sonny to see the parrot and the train set?’
Sonny was hopping from one foot to the other in his eagerness. I smiled at Gail as she nodded her agreement but I could see how nervous she was. And so too was Amir. It was touching to see his face shining with excitement, and he was holding Sonny’s hand as if he never wanted to let him go.
Sonny seemed equally hooked. He was intelligent beyond his five years and I think he realised that the white-haired man was somehow important to him. As he smiled up at him it was clear they were going to be the best of friends. They disappeared without a backward glance.
Tariq watched them and then rose and went over to Gail. ‘Would you like to come and see the rest of the house?’ He held out his hand.
Gail stood up uncertainly and glanced over to me. I immediately leapt up.
‘Sky, she doesn’t need a bodyguard, I’m not going to abduct her,’ Tariq snapped at me.
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