DIRECTLY after breakfast the following morning, Kassim began preparations for their visit to the Blue Men. The four-wheel-drive vehicle was checked for fuel and oil, and two five-gallon kegs of fresh drinking-water were loaded into the back. There was also, to Janene’s surprise, a huge crate of tinned food, and she wondered how long this trip was going to take. At least a month, by the look of it!
The road out of town to the east was smooth for the first mile, then it became more and more rutted and finally disappeared altogether. She pulled down the sun-visor, stared through the windscreen at the bleak landscape ahead, and suppressed a shudder. At the wheel of the Land Rover, Kassim looked sideways and grinned at her. ‘Welcome to the real Morocco.’
There was nothing to be seen but sunbaked red earth, tortured rocks and a few stunted, arthritic trees. Heat rose in shimmering waves, distorting distances, and she was glad of the air-conditioning. Those rocks out there looked hot enough to fry an egg. ‘Do people actually live out here?’ she asked in awe.
He gave a brief nod. ‘Many. Some people don’t like cities.’
‘Well…I’m not that keen on them myself,’ she admitted ruefully. ‘But I don’t think I’d give them up for this.’
He dropped a gear, carefully choosing his route between the scattered rocks and obstacles, and she relapsed into silence, allowing him to concentrate on his driving.
Last night their lovemaking had been even more adventurous and just as enthusiastic as the night before, and there was no reason to suppose that the same thing wouldn’t happen tonight. But the question she’d been worrying about still remained unanswered.
It was obvious that, the longer she stayed here with this enigmatic man, the deeper she was getting in love. If only she could have sustained her initial anger against him instead of falling prey to her own desires, she wouldn’t be in this mess now. They all said that falling in love was wonderful, but none of them ever got around to mentioning all the problems and heartaches it caused.
There had to be some way of finding out his intentions. She shrank from the idea of forcing the issue by asking him directly. That would be too blatantly obvious. But surely there had to be another way.
There were about another ten miles of rough terrain until the land changed from red earth to well-packed sand. They passed the crumbling ruins of a fort, parts of its limewashed crenellated walls still standing, where the ghosts of long-dead legionnaires looked down at them over rifle-sights. Beyond the fort stretched an endless sea of sand and dunes. Kassim kept driving.
Judging it safe to speak now, she glanced at him. ‘Would you like to answer a question that’s been bothering me?’
His blue eyes looked sideways at her. ‘Certainly. You are wondering if we are lost?’
The thought had never entered her mind. He was the last man on earth she’d have expected to get himself lost. He probably knew every grain of sand out here by its first and second name.
‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve been wondering how you managed to sneak me out of England, without my passport, aboard a private plane. I thought all flights in and out of a country had to be cleared by the authorities. Customs and people like that? I suppose you managed to bribe someone? I mean…it’s the kind of thing your ancestors went in for, isn’t it? Bribery and corruption.’
His eyes flickered over her dangerously, then he grunted, ‘Sometimes it is better to remain in ignorance of the ways of the world. Especially if you are a woman.’
She looked at him in resentment. ‘Don’t be so patronising. I’ve answered your questions. You could at least be courteous enough to answer mine.’ She averted her eyes from his stern features and examined the landscape again ‘You’ve treated me well and I wouldn’t repay you by reporting your misdemeanours to the authorities, so you needn’t worry about that.’
He gave her a thin, ironic smile. ‘Thank you. I will rest easier in my bed at night now.’
His sarcasm grated across her nerves and she said crossly, ‘All right! Forget I ever asked.’ She folded her arms, pouted her lips angrily and stared straight ahead in silence.
He eyed her in exasperation, then said, ‘Do you know what kef is?’
‘No.’ She kept staring ahead, still annoyed with him.
‘It’s marijuana,’ he explained patiently. ‘A lot of it is grown in Morocco, smuggled into Spain and ends up in England. In the past I have worked closely with your Customs people to stop this evil traffic. In return they allow me a little latitude in my travel arrangements.’
‘That must be convenient,’ she observed tartly. She was going to leave it at that, when she suddenly realised that this was the very opening she’d been looking for. Making her voice as casual as possible, she remarked, ‘So I can take it that there’ll be no problems taking me back home?’
He looked as if he’d just been bitten by a snake, and he turned on her. ‘You have been my guest for little more than two days, and already you speak about leaving!’
His angry reaction took her by surprise, and she stammered, ‘I—I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll stay just as long as you want me to.’
He went on as if he hadn’t heard a word she had said. ‘In this country we pride ourselves on our hospitality, and in less enlightened company your remark would be regarded as a personal insult to your host.’
‘All right,’ she complained. ‘Don’t go over the top.’
He looked at her suspiciously. ‘Perhaps you grow tired of my lovemaking?’
She gulped in embarrassment. ‘I—I’ve no complaints about that,’ she assured him hastily. ‘You’re an absolute gold-medallist in bed. An absolute demon. A—a veritable—’
‘Be careful,’ he growled in warning. ‘I’m the one who goes in for the flowery language. It doesn’t ring true coming from the lips of a red-haired Anglo-Saxon.’ He paused, then added drily, ‘Perhaps I don’t come up to the demanding standards set by your ex-lovers?’
She looked at him indignantly and snapped, ‘I don’t have any ex-lovers.’
He raised a mocking eyebrow. ‘What about Damien?’
She sighed in exasperation. ‘All right! One ex-lover.’ She looked directly into those questioning eyes and said quietly, ‘My past life has nothing to do with you, Kassim, but I’ve nothing to hide. Damien and I made love a few times. At least, I thought that was what we were doing. But I didn’t know any better until I met you. I always thought that it was simply a matter of the woman pleasing the man. You taught me differently.’
She turned to stare through the windscreen again. If that little speech didn’t soothe his ego, then nothing would. Anyway, now she had a partial answer to her question. She was nothing more than a ‘guest’ here. Her spirits began to sink.
They’d been travelling in silence for another fifteen minutes when she became aware of the sudden change in the lighting. Ever since they’d left the town the sun had been beating down mercilessly from a cloudless sky, but now there was an ominous brassy tinge that threw the landscape into sharp relief. The effect was eerie. The sun darkened and then the very air seemed to turn brown.
Kassim pressed hard on the pedal and grunted, ‘Sandstorm coming.’ There was a large dune directly ahead of them, and as he detoured round it her eyes opened wide in horror. An enormous black wall about a mile high was racing across the desert towards them.
‘It’s nothing to worry about,’ he said confidently. ‘We’ll park here and sit it out.’
Dry-mouthed, she watched the rapidly approaching storm, then said tremulously, ‘Wouldn’t we be better sheltering behind the dune?’
‘If we do we’ll be buried alive.’ He gave her a thin smile. ‘What’s wrong, Janene? I’ve said that it’s nothing to worry about. Don’t you trust me?’
She looked at him helplessly, her knuckles white in her lap, then she looked at the advancing nightmare, then she looked back at him, and gulped and nodded. ‘Y—yes, Kassim.’
He switched off the engine. ‘Good. Just make sure that all the windows on your side are closed tight.’
Thirty seconds later, the storm hit them. The Land Rover gave a sickening lurch, as if it had been struck by a huge fist, and day turned to night. There was a roaring sound as tons of wind-driven sand battered and scoured the vehicle. In a panic, she threw herself into the safety of Kassim’s arms and buried her face in his chest like a frightened child.
Protectively his arm went round her, and over the noise of the storm his voice whispered in her ear, ‘Don’t be afraid, little rose. It is only wind and sand. It cannot harm us in here.’
She looked up at him in the darkness, and her voice quavered, ‘How—how long will it last?’
‘That is in the hands of Allah. Perhaps minutes. Perhaps days, if someone has greatly offended Him.’
Days…? Oh, my God! she thought. They couldn’t spend days cooped up in here! She blinked as he reached up and switched on the interior light. The very air inside the vehicle was filled with a fine, gritty dust that she tasted in her mouth and felt burning her eyes.
Kassim had drawn his robe tighter and pulled his turban across his face like a mask, and he carefully rearranged her headscarf in the same manner. ‘Now do you see the reason for the way we dress in the desert?’ he asked. ‘It’s protection against the elements. Sun, sand and wind.’
Slowly regaining her poise, she sat up. With Kassim by her side she was more fascinated than frightened now.
‘What happens if you’re caught out in the open in a storm like this?’ she asked, wide-eyed.
‘Just do what your camel does and you’ll be perfectly safe,’ he assured her. ‘Lie down beside it with your back to the wind and pull your robe over your head.’
Having offered her that handy piece of advice, he clambered over his seat and rummaged around in the back. A moment later he thrust a mug of cold water into her hand. ‘Drink this. It’ll wash the dust from your mouth.’
After the drink she felt calmer, and she looked at him quizzically. ‘You must have expected something like this. That’s why you brought all the food and water, isn’t it? We might be stuck here for days, as you said.’
He shook his head and explained patiently, ‘The food is a present for my friends. Delicacies they seldom see. As for the water—only a fool travels in the desert without more than enough to spare. As for the storms…they move too quickly to be predicted.’
‘Oh, I see.’ It was just dawning on her how out of her depth she was. Everything was so alien to her previous experiences. ‘I’m sorry for asking all these stupid questions.’
‘Don’t be, ‘ he said generously. ‘It’s only by asking questions that one learns. Stiff-necked pride merely leads to ignorance. To someone used to the civilised English countryside, all this must seem strange.’
She handed him back the mug. ‘Strange isn’t the word for it.’ She looked at the darkened windscreen and heard the screech of the wind, then said fervently, ‘No one’s ever going to get me within a hundred miles of a desert after this.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m sorry you’re being subjected to this ordeal, but I’m afraid it was a journey that had to be undertaken. It’s a matter of honour and tradition, you understand?’
She frowned at him. ‘No. I’m afraid I don’t understand.’ Suddenly she remembered what he’d told her yesterday about the Blue Men examining her to see what she was worth. At the time, she’d dismissed it as one of his jokes, but suppose he’d been serious!
With hard suspicion in her eyes and grim determination in her voice, she challenged him. ‘Before we go any further I think you’d better explain in straightforward English just why you’re taking me to see your friends. And I don’t want to hear any more about “honour” and “tradition”. Your honour didn’t prevent you from snatching me from my home and, for all I know, it might be a “tradition” here for you to share me among your friends.’ She took a deep breath and glared at him. ‘Unless you swear to me that I’m not going to wake up tomorrow morning in some strange Arab’s tent, I’m going to open this door and take my chances outside.’ To emphasise the threat, she grabbed the door-handle.
His hand clamped around her arm and he looked into her eyes intensely. ‘You really would, wouldn’t you?’
‘Damn right I would,’ she said defiantly, trying to tug her arm free.
He continued to stare at her, his blue eyes faintly puzzled, then he released her and gave a crooked smile. ‘Relax, Janene. For what it’s worth, you have my word that no harm will befall you.’
‘Yes,’ she muttered, only half convinced by his assurance. ‘You’d rather be cast naked into a pit of scorpions. I’ve heard it before.’
For a moment he sat in tight-lipped silence, deep in thought, casting her occasional sidelong glances. Finally he came to his decision. ‘Very well! Since I don’t have your complete trust, we will turn round and go back as soon as the storm is over.’
Good! she thought. That suited her fine. She’d never wanted to come on this trip in the first place. Again she pouted her lips, folded her arms across her chest, and tried to ignore him.
Her conscience began to prick her, faintly at first. She tried to ignore that as well, but it just got worse. Wasn’t she being just a little bit hysterical over this business? she asked herself. She remembered the way he’d dealt with the case of the divorced women. He’d shown compassion and a deep sense of justice. Was it likely that a man with these qualities would go back on his word? The whole thing could really be quite innocent, and her irrational fears were denying him the right to visit his friends and relatives. Dammit! No wonder she was being irrational. It was this hellish storm that was affecting her mind.
Slowly the noise of the wind diminished and the darkness outside lightened to a dim yellow, then, as suddenly as it had disappeared, the sun blazed down from a bright sky.
They both climbed out of the Land Rover. The towering black wall was behind them, receding quickly, looking for new victims to blind and harass.
‘Well, thank God that’s over,’ she said with heartfelt relief, then she looked at him and burst out laughing. ‘You should see your face! It’s—’ Suddenly she stopped and looked at herself in the wing-mirror. Oh, no! She too was covered in dust, her eyes staring out of a face like a clown’s mask.
Kassim fetched one of the water-containers from the back of the vehicle and they used it to clean themselves up, then, as she brushed the sand from the windscreen, he checked the engine. At last, when they were ready to move, he started the engine, but as he began to turn the steering-wheel she placed her hand over his and said quietly, ‘I’ve changed my mind, Kassim. We’ve come this far, so we may as well carry on and meet your friends.’
He looked at her without expression. ‘So? Suddenly you are willing to put your fate in my hands? You are willing to trust me with your life?’
It wasn’t so much a question as an ultimatum, and she was well aware of the position she was putting herself in if she answered yes. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nodded, and wondered if there was any other person alive on earth to whom she’d have given such a promise.
‘Good. I am well-pleased,’ he said gravely. ‘You will never have cause to regret it.’ He gunned the accelerator, then cautioned her with a grim smile. ‘A piece of advice, Janene. Do not call them Arabs. They are Berbers.’
They continued their journey east into the empty wastes of the desert.
Kassim was the first to spot the oasis and, as he pointed, she stared through the scratched windscreen. The rising waves of heat created strange shapes, but soon she made out the dark smudge on the horizon. As they drew nearer the smudge resolved itself into a substantial group of palm-trees. Scattered among them were large black tents.
Two figures atop camels began loping towards them, and Kassim grunted and halted the vehicle. As the riders rapidly approached, she saw the rifles slung from their shoulders and she looked nervously at Kassim. ‘Who are they?’
‘Camp guards,’ he said casually. ‘We’ll stay here until they’ve identified me.’
It all sounded and looked a bit threatening to her but, before she could put her feelings into words, Kassim leaned over and gave her a hard yet sweet and lingering kiss. Then, with a soft command to stay in her seat, he got out and strode to the front of the Land Rover. Taking up a stance, his legs wide apart and his hands on his hips in a gesture of nonchalant command, he awaited the riders.
Her lips were still tingling and she hoped sincerely that it wouldn’t turn out to be a farewell kiss. By the look of the two men who were now dismounting, it very well could be. Swathed in dark blue robes and black turbans, they had the fiercest-looking faces she’d ever seen. Glittering eyes over hooked noses and black pointed beards.
Suddenly they threw their arms wide in recognition, and an instant later they were both embracing Kassim like a long-lost brother. She heard the sound of loud laughter. There was more discussion and more laughter, then, with a final embrace, the two men remounted their camels and raced back to the oasis.
Kassim came into the Land Rover, settled himself in the driver’s seat and grinned at her. ‘We could follow them, but I’d rather wait, out of courtesy, to give them time to arrange their welcoming-committee. Ten minutes should be long enough.’ He placed his hand innocently on the top of her thigh, feeling the flesh through the thin material of her robe. ‘We’ll have to think of some way of passing the time, Janene. Any suggestions?’
Removing his hand with the delicate use of her thumb and middle finger, she deposited it back on his own knee and said primly, ‘I’ve no intention of passing it that way. Not here. Now, try and behave yourself.’
He heaved a sigh. ‘There are no cold showers in the desert, alas. In this country a man’s blood is always hot. Especially when he is in the presence of such alluring, delectable—’
‘Why are they called the Blue Men?’ she asked, cutting him off in mid-flight.
‘An English trader put in at one of our ports many years ago. His cargo was indigo-dyed cotton. We Berbers were the first to trade with him, and we’ve been dressing in blue ever since.’ He showed his strong white teeth in a hungry smile. ‘But I’m sure we can find something much more interesting than that to talk about.’
His fingers were toying with her earlobe, sending shivers down her back. ‘There are unimaginable delights still in store for us,’ he murmured seductively. ‘New experiences. New heights of passion to be scaled. Would you like me to describe them to you now or would you rather wait in breathless anticipation?’ Now his mouth was at her ear, his tongue doing things she’d never dreamed of.
She put her hand up to fend him off gently, but when he started nibbling at her fingers she pulled her hand away.
‘Please, Kassim,’ she implored shakily. ‘You… You’re making me uncomfortable.’
His blue eyes glinted wickedly. ‘Uncomfortable? In what way?’
She swallowed and tried to think of something else. ‘You know perfectly well what I mean. Now, stop it. If you must do something with your hands, pour me another drink.’
When Kassim judged that sufficient time had passed, he put the Land Rover in gear and headed for the oasis.
The reception-committee was lined up in readiness. About sixty men mounted on camels raised their rifles in the air and fired off a volley as Janene and Kassim stepped out of the Land Rover. Kassim raised his hand in greeting and spoke in Arabic.
She watched as the men dismounted and, as they strode purposefully towards them, she edged a little closer to Kassim and he muttered quietly, ‘Hide your nervousness, little rose. No one is going to eat you. Put your head back and show them the fire and spirit in your eyes.’
In spite of his assurances, the next five minutes were the most nerve-racking she’d ever gone through. In complete silence the men filed slowly past, bowing respectfully to Kassim, then pausing before her for a brief yet penetrating scrutiny.
They were all tall and lean and held themselves with an almost regal dignity. Their faces, half masked by the ends of their turbans, were bronzed and their eyes the same brilliant blue as Kassim’s. Their robes, in every shade of blue from cornflower to deep royal, were all lined in white cotton. A handsome yet scary bunch of ruffians, she decided.
With all those eyes staring at her, she felt like a rabbit in a den of lions, but, remembering Kassim’s instructions, she stared right back at them in bold challenge.
Finally, the inspection over, they all squatted on the ground in a great circle beneath an enormous palmtree. Kassim spoke to them briefly, then waited until a woman emerged from one of the tents. Dressed in black and with great almond eyes shining above her veil, she came over and took Janene by the arm.
‘Go with her,’ Kassim commanded sternly. ‘Here, your place is with the other women, not the men.’
He was being infuriatingly patronising again, but she kept her temper in check and her mouth shut. Something in his eyes warned her that if she argued she’d live to regret it.
The woman led her towards the tent, smiling and chattering excitedly away in Arabic, but all Janene could do was smile in return and shake her head. ‘Sorry. English? A little Français?
The woman obviously didn’t understand, but that did nothing to dampen her enthusiasm.
The tent was crowded with at least ten women and a dozen assorted children, from babes in arms to boisterous five-year-olds. The walls of the tent were hung with silk draperies. On the ground there were magnificent hand-woven rugs and silk cushions. The whole place was a blaze of colour—turquoise, gold, magenta, emerald-green. In contrast, all the women were dressed in black, although they all wore so many heavy silver chains and barbaric-looking necklaces that they seemed to rattle as they moved.
Dishes of sweet cakes, biscuits and almonds were offered, and glasses of fragrant mint tea were poured from a huge silver teapot. If the men of the tribe had seemed silent and reserved, the women made up for it, and although Janene didn’t understand a word they were saying, she felt completely relaxed and happy.
The children soon overcame their shyness and gathered around her, and when she took one of the babies into her arms the women nodded to each other in approval.
It was about an hour later when Kassim came to collect her. They said their farewells, then climbed into the Land Rover and headed back west into the desert.
When the oasis was a long way behind them, Kassim gave her an ironic smile. ‘You see? You are pefectly safe. I didn’t sell you into slavery, as you feared.’
Tiredly she leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘You sound awfully pleased with yourself. I take it your visit was a success? Honour and tradition fully satisfied?’
‘Perfectly,’ he said smoothly. ‘They were quite impressed with you.’
‘Well, that’s nice to know,’ she murmured drily. ‘Did they tell you how much I was worth, then?’
It was meant to be a joke but his reply shook her rigid. ‘They assured me that I’d made a good trade-off. Their decision was that any man who’d let you go for such a price was a fool.’
She blinked, then sat up slowly and stared at him. ‘Excuse me. I must have lost the place somewhere. What precisely are we talking about here? What do you mean by “trade-off” and “price”?’
‘Fifty thousand pounds sterling,’ he said blandly. ‘That was the amount Damien owed my family. When I went over to England to collect it, he couldn’t come up with the cash. Your ex-lover offered me you instead.’ His right hand dropped from the wheel and caressed her thigh. ‘The man is a fool, Janene. You’re proving to be more of a bargain than I thought.’
For a moment she felt as if someone had just pushed her over the edge of a cliff, then she drew in her breath and said icily, ‘Take your hand off my leg.’
Ignoring her, he gave her thigh a possessive squeeze, and in a blind rage she dug her nails into the back of his hand and scratched viciously, then yelled at him furiously, ‘Touch me again and I’ll scratch your eyes out.’ She lunged for the ignition and switched it off, then, even as the Land Rover was skidding to a halt, she opened the door and jumped out.