FOR a few minutes the western sky was gloriously ablaze with orange and crimson fire, then the sun dipped below the horizon and night came swiftly to the desert. One by one the stars winked into life and the moon hung suspended overhead like a huge silver sickle.
In a vast circle around the oasis, camp-fires were lit by the Blue Men, who would keep a ceremonial guard on this, their chief’s wedding-night. At the moment Kassim was visiting each of his tribesmen in turn, praising them and thanking them for their loyalty. It was a gesture typical of Kassim, and one which would be appreciated and remembered in years to come.
In the huge, luxuriously furnished tent which had been set up beneath the palm-trees, Kebira gave a few more gentle brush-strokes to her mistress’s red hair and said haltingly, ‘Have…having patience. Kassim… your husband…here soon.’
Janene bestowed a smile of encouragement on her maid. ‘Very good, Kebira. You are a quick learner. You’ll be speaking English fluently in a few months.’
It had been Kassim’s wish that the wedding should take place at the oasis, among his people, and he’d started making the arrangements the moment they’d arrived back from London.
Sally had flown back -with them to be the maid of honour and, during the three days it had taken Kassim to contact his army of relatives from all over North Africa, France and Spain, Janene had taken the opportunity to show her partner around the town.
The noise, colours and sights of the souk had fascinated Sally, but she’d been even more intrigued by the four tall, mysterious figures in blue cloaks and black turbans who were never more than half a dozen steps behind.
Over the next couple of days, as guests kept arriving and the house began filling up, Janene had spent most of her time being introduced to and entertaining a never-ending stream of Kassim’s uncles, aunts, cousins and brothers. She’d been a little apprehensive at first, but she was soon put at her ease by their friendly smiles and enthusiastic embraces. It certainly didn’t seem to bother them that the head of their family had decided to marry an Anglo-Saxon infidel. On the contrary. They seemed to be a lot more cosmopolitan in their attitudes than many of the people she knew back home.
When she’d awakened that morning, it was to find Kassim had already left for the oasis to check on the final arrangements. There were no dusty, bumpy rides in the Land Rover to be endured this time. By helicopter, the trip to the oasis would take less than half an hour, and two had been hired to ferry everyone there and back in relays.
Janene had been on the last trip to leave the house, along with Sally, Kebira and Sister Mary, who’d turned up at the last minute. Breathless with excitement, the older woman had boarded the helicopter, strapped herself into the next seat, and explained about the slight problem at the medical centre, then added brightly, ‘Sure, and I wouldn’t want to be missing this grand occasion. Haven’t I just been looking forward to the day when he takes himself a wife and settles down.’
The remark had jogged something in Janene’s memory and she’d smiled at Mary and said casually, ‘You’ve lived here a long time, haven’t you, Mary? I suppose by now that you’re familiar with all the local customs?’
Mary had nodded. ‘That I am. And pretty strange some of them are, too, I can tell you. But I never interfere. After all, it’s their country, not mine.’
‘Quite. So when I first told you that Kassim was taking me to see the Blue Men, you must have known that he had marriage in mind.’
Mary had smiled and bobbed her head. ‘I had a good idea.’
‘Yes. But you never let on to me, did you?’ Janene had pointed out in mild accusation. ‘You said that it was probably just to see how they lived out in the desert.’
‘Well, now…’ Mary had said, quite unabashed. ‘The first time we met, you were wearing an engagement-ring. And the second time, when you asked me about the Blue Men, you weren’t. Sure, and I didn’t know what to think, so I just decided to keep my mouth shut about the custom. But I was sure that things would sort themselves out in the end, and they have, haven’t they?’
She’d smiled with affection at the older woman. ‘Yes, Mary. I think they have.’
The ceremony had taken place an hour after they’d landed at the oasis. In the tent set aside for the purpose Janene had changed into her bndal outfit: a robe and head-dress of shimmering white silk with gold edging. Kebira had fussed around her in a fever of excitement, making sure that every detail was perfect, then Sally and a retinue of women from the tribe had led her to Kassim’s side. Shaded from the sun by a large canopy which had been erected between the trees, she’d listened to the strange Berber words of the ceremony which would bind them together as man and wife.
The rest of day had been given over to feasting and general enjoyment, but now all the guests had departed back to town, and night and serenity had come to the desert.
Kebira had been humming softly to herself, but suddenly she laid the hairbrush down and gazed out into the moonlit oasis. ‘I think…I hear something…’
Janene looked at her maid hopefully. ‘Is it Kassim?’
Kebira waited for a tense moment, straining her eyes towards the dark shadows beneath the trees, then she smiled and said excitedly, ‘Your husband…he is near.’
Dry-mouthed and with a quickening heart, Janene rose from the pile of cushions she’d been perched on for the last half-hour.
Suddenly the tall, blue-cloaked figure of Kassim was framed in the entrance. In the light of the oil-lamps his strong features were the colour of dark copper, and his lips stretched in a white, dazzling smile. As he stepped forward Kebira gave a quick bow, then quietly left the tent.
For a few moments he seemed content to stand in silence, his eyes almost luminous as they drank in the sight of her, then at last he spoke softly. ‘Well, my little rose, we are alone at last. Come to me. I want to smell the perfume of your hair and taste the sweet honey of your lips. Duty has deprived me of these pleasures for too long.’
Gliding forward, she melted into his strong embrace and shivered with delicious abandon at the sweet tenderness of his kiss. His hands moulded her perfectly to the length of his body in anticipation of delights to come, and the power drained from her limbs, leaving her limp with aching desire.
His lips reluctantly left hers and he whispered huskily, ‘If Allah would but grant me one wish, I would command the very stars to halt in their courses so that this one night would last until the end of time.’ He gazed down into the emerald depths of her eyes and sighed. ‘But since He has more to worry about than a fool such as I, we shall have to be content with what He has already granted us.’
He gave her another lingering kiss, then he released her. Striding over to the rear wall of the tent, he threw aside a silk drape to reveal a cool-box. Inside, packed in ice, were two bottles and glasses. Holding the bottles aloft and grinning at her astonished expression, he said, ‘All it takes is foresight and ingenuity. After all, what is a wedding-night without champagne? There are some western customs of which I thoroughly approve, and this is one of them.’ He poured two brimming glasses, then handed her one. ‘I’m sorry there isn’t any caviare.’
‘Good,’ she said, making a face. ‘I hate the stuff.’ She sipped the drink, then smiled. ‘But this, I like.’
‘I knew you would,’ he said modestly. ‘Champagne was made for beautiful women like you and nights like this.’
Sipping at his own drink, he led her outside and they stood in silent admiration of the splendour of the night sky. The air was still and pleasantly cool after the heat of the day. A distant sound of laughter came from the cluster of tents at the far side of the oasis. Celebrations would go on over there until the small hours.
She sipped at her drink again, then said quietly, ‘It’s strange. I remember the first night we met. You told me that you’d like to take me to your tent in the desert. I thought you were joking.’
A troubled frown settled on his face and he looked down at her. ‘You would have preferred a hotel suite in Paris? Or Rome?’
She shook her head, reached up and pressed her finger to his lips. ‘Darling, right now I wouldn’t trade this tent for the top floor of the Dorchester in London.’
His lips nibbled hungrily at her fingertip, then he gave a grunt of approval. ‘Those are the words I hoped to hear. You spoke like a true Berber woman.’
He started nibbling her finger again and she revelled in the feeling of titillation, then murmured, ‘Yes. Well, I suppose I am a Berber woman now.’ She revelled in the feeling a moment longer, then withdrew her hand.
‘The green fields and leafy lanes of England are only a few hours’ flight from here,’ he reminded her gently. ‘We will be making frequent trips there. I realise that there may be things you miss from time to time. You may go on your own if you should so desire. Always remember, little rose, that wedding-ring is a symbol of love and trust. It was never intended to shackle you to a prison wall.’
His words touched her heart more than she’d thought possible, and she swallowed to relieve the tightness in her throat. ‘I never want to be on my own again, darling. A woman needs a husband and her place is by his side. There was a time when I’d have argued against that, but I hadn’t met you then.’ She sipped her drink again, then changed the subject to something that had been preying on her mind. ‘Did I meet all your relatives today, darling? I’m talking about your nephew—the one who lost all his money gambling.’
The blue eyes looked at her sharply. ‘No. He is no longer welcome in this family. His mother was here, but he is where he belongs—cleaning the kitchen floors of a hotel in Tangier.’
She looked up at him, her eyes unwavering. ‘I know that it isn’t any of my business, darling, but couldn’t you find it in your heart to forgive him? Take him back into the family again?’
‘Do you wish me to?’ His tone suggested that his only desire in life was to please her.
She nodded vigorously. ‘Yes. I believe you should.’
‘Then it shall be done,’ he pronounced. For a moment he gazed up at the stars, as if the answer to the eccentricity of the female mind could be found up there, then he smiled down at her, his mildly puzzled eyes sweeping her face. ‘Your concern for a complete stranger does you credit, but would you mind telling me why you should feel any pity for a foolish youth like him?’
‘Well,’ she said simply, ‘we’ve all done foolish things at some time in our lives, haven’t we? And he wasn’t really bad, was he? He was a victim. And I know that it probably sounds stupid, but because of my relationship with Damien I feel a little bit responsible.’ She bit her lip and frowned at him. ‘Does that make sense to you?’
‘Yes, little rose,’ he admitted. ‘It makes sense. You feel guilt by association, though you shouldn’t.’ He pursed his lips thoughtfully, then added, ‘Anyway, it may be that he has already learnt by his mistake. In future he will be more cautious in his dealings with strangers.’
‘There’s also another reason,’ she added quietly. ‘We owe him a debt of gratitude. If it hadn’t been for him, you would never have come to London and you and I would never have met.’
His teeth gleamed again in his dark features as he laughed. ‘By the beard of the Prophet! You are absolutely right! Perhaps Allah merely used him as an unwitting pawn in His great design. He must indeed be rewarded. Instead of scrubbing floors, he will take over as manager of our new hotel in Agadir.’ He took her by the hand. ‘Come. Let us find out what further treasures my generous spirit has to offer.’
In the tent he refilled their glasses, then gestured to the pile of cushions. ‘They are as impatient for the feel of your smooth skin as I am, but we shall enjoy the pleasures of wine and conversation first. We shall gaze into each other’s eyes like two love-sick calves and we shall tease each other unmercifully until the blood is pounding in our veins and our very souls are on fire for—’
‘You’d better not wait too long,’ she warned with a smile. ‘My teasing threshold is very low when I’m around you. I’m liable to forget that I’m a lady and take a flying leap at you.’
‘That would be an interesting experience,’ he mused aloud. ‘I would have no choice but to surrender immediately, of course. Now, are there any more favours, demands, wishes or requests you want to make? Anything that is within my power to give is yours for the asking.’
‘I want to learn to speak Berber.’
He inclined his head. That’s good. But it will have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight we speak only the language of love.’ He gave a humorous smile. ‘Anything else?’
She sipped her drink and looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Just one last thing, darling.’
‘Name it, and it shall be yours.’
She laid down her glass and smiled at him lazily through half-closed eyes. ‘Will you please get rid of that damn drink and take me in your arms? I’m already past that threshold I was talking about.’
‘Yes,’ he murmured softly, ‘I think you’re right. We are wasting too much time in foolishness.’ Reaching for her, he drew her closer until their lips met. His robe unwound and drifted to the floor as he undid the golden clip at her shoulder, and as his hand slipped under her flimsy bra to cup and caress her breast she moved her mouth over his in frenzied abandon.
He eased her briefs over her slim hips and she kicked them off. As his hand continued to fondle her breast, her own hands began hurriedly undressing him. Clinging to each other, they sank slowly on to the cushions, and the long night of exquisite lovemaking began…
Kassim drove the hired Mercedes saloon while Janene sat in the rear seat with the baby cradled in her arms. The quiet country lanes of Kent rolled by, and she leaned forward. ‘There’s a junction coming up. Take a left turn when you get to it.’
Soon, the square Norman tower of the church became visible above the hedgerows and she leaned forward again and tapped his shoulder. ‘There it is.’
In her arms the baby stirred and opened his eyes and smiled as if he knew that they were almost at the end of their journey. They were wonderful blue eyes, just like Kassim’s, she thought. And the same raven-black hair.
There was no one else in sight when Kassim drew the car up at the churchyard. Carefully carrying the huge bunch of fresh flowers they’d bought in Ashford, he opened the rear door and helped her out. Still holding the baby tightly, she straightened up and looked around. The sight of the well-tended graveyard filled her momentarily with sad, heart-wrenching memories, then she cast them aside and made her way slowly along the narrow, gravelled path. Kassim followed a few steps behind.
Among the ancient, weatherbeaten headstones, the newer one marking her parents’ grave was easy to find. Stopping before it, she closed her eyes and prayed in silence for a few moments. Kassim placed the flowers at the foot of the headstone, then stepped back as she knelt down and laid the baby on the soft carpet of grass. He smiled up at her, gurgling with pleasure, his tiny limbs waving and kicking in the air.
As she stood up Kassim gave her a smile of encouragement, and she cleared her throat and began talking in a soft, quiet voice. ‘Hello, Mum. Hello, Dad. I don’t suppose you expected me. It’s been a while, and you probably thought I’d forgotten all about you. Well, I haven’t and I never will. I’ve come here to let you see your first grandson. His name is Kamal and he’s just gorgeous, isn’t he? And this big, handsome devil standing next to me is Kassim, his father. We were married just over a year ago. He’s a wonderful man. You’d have liked him a lot. He’s always kind and thoughtful. In fact, it was his idea to bring Kamal here.
‘We live in Morocco most of the time, although I’m still in business with Sally. I’m the buyer for our chain of boutiques. I don’t need the money, but it helps the people in our town.
‘We’ve decided that when Kamal is old enough he’ll be educated here, in England. Then he’ll study medicine or law. Anyway, we’ll let him choose that for himself. But I know that one day we’re all going to be very, very proud of him.’
She reached for Kassim’s hand and pressed it, then went on, ‘Kassim is very good to me. No woman could ask for a better husband. He wants a big family, so I think you’ll be seeing a lot of us over the next few years. Perhaps the next one will be a girl.’
She smiled up at Kassim. ‘Is there anything you’d like to say, darling?’
‘Not at the moment,’ he said quietly. ‘I think they’re too busy talking to their grandson.’
She looked down at the grass. Their son had stopped his gurgling and kicking. Now his eyes were tightly closed and he seemed for all the world to be frowning in concentration.
The sight amused her and she laughed. ‘I think you’re right.’
He took her into his arms tenderly and grinned. ‘Who knows what they may be talking about? I think we should leave them undisturbed for the next few minutes.’
‘Anything you say, darling,’ she whispered, smiling up at those blue eyes. ‘We’re not in any hurry, are we?’
‘Tell me,’ he asked quietly, ‘is a man allowed to kiss the woman he loves in a place like this?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said lightly. ‘By all means. In fact, it’s an old English tradition. Quiet spots like this are favourite meeting-places for courting couples.’
His blue eyes gleamed in pleasure. ‘Well, if it’s an old tradition we must do our best to keep it alive. We will court while our son listens to the wisdom of his grandparents.’
The slight whimper was enough to jerk Kassim instantly awake. Careful not to wake Janene, he slipped out of bed, crossed over silently to the crib and gently lifted his son into his arms. Kamal’s blue eyes opened and gazed up at him. There was a tiny smile of recognition, then a burble of happiness, and the eyes closed once more.
Soundlessly he carried him across the room towards the open window, where the air was cooler, and began rocking him gently. It was all the travelling which had upset the baby’s routine, he told himself. Tomorrow everything would be back to normal.
The stars were reflected in the still waters of the pool in the courtyard below. All was peace and tranquillity, and Kassim smiled as he recalled the very different scene here when Kamal had been born in this very room.
As Janene’s time had drawn near, the Blue Men and their families had moved in from the desert and set up camp on the outskirts of the town, in preparation for the big event.
Kassim had delivered her baby with the help of Sister Mary, and it was a moment that would live in his heart forever: the joy of holding his new-born son and the feeling of overwhelming love and tenderness as Janene had reached and taken it to her breast.
As the news quickly spread, the town had immediately put up shutters and declared a three-day festival. That same night the Blue Men and their wives had come to the house. In reverential silence and bearing gifts, the men had filed in to pay homage to their future chief. After they had gone it was the women’s turn, and they’d gone into raptures of delight over the infant.
Later, the feasting and the music and the dancing had taken place in the courtyard below. At the height of the celebrations Janene had joined him with their infant son in their arms, and together they’d stood at this very window, acknowledging the cheers and shouts of congratulation from the crowd.
By now the echoes of that night had faded into the past. Kassim stood for a few minutes more, then, sure that Kamal was soundly asleep once more, he carried him over to his crib.
Janene was lying on her back, one arm outstretched, her breasts rising and falling as she slept. The silk sheet had slipped, uncovering most of her naked length, but he was in no hurry to cover her up. This was a game he often played in the quiet hours of the night. Just gazing down at her like this, knowing that this wonderful woman belonged to him as much as he belonged to her. In the faint glow of the night-light, he feasted his eyes on the delightful curves and smooth contours of her body, then he lay down beside her. Careful not to wake her, he traced his fingertips lightly over her breasts and stomach, marvelling at the warm, velvety feel of her skin. He pressed his face closer, enjoying the sweet, clean scent of her, then he tasted her with his tongue. Gently he brushed his lips against her cheek and she stirred in her sleep. He lay perfectly still for a few moments, then he kissed her tenderly once more and whispered, ‘I love you, little rose. I always will.’
She kept her eyes closed and waited until his breathing was deep and even, then she turned, laid her head on his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. ‘And I’ll always love you, my beautiful barbarian,’ she whispered.
With a smile of blissful contentment on her face, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.