I raised my chin. ‘True. But you did tell me to pick something appropriate for the desert and for camel riding, didn’t you? Well, what could be more appropriate than a Bedouin’s dress?’
His left little finger twitched. ‘I could think of a number of things.’
‘Oh, don’t be a spoilsport!’ My lips twitched. The desperate effort he was putting into not exploding… It was almost comical. Slinging one of the long white folds of my gown around his neck, I jerked him towards me, until we were standing only inches apart. ‘Well? Just tell me! What do you think?’
His slightly widened eyes contracted and cooled, their temperature quickly approaching arctic. ‘What do I think?’ he hissed, his eyes flashing dangerously. ‘I think we need to get you out into the desert, where no one can see you in that thing except passing camels - fast!’
*~*~**~*~*
The remainder of our little shopping trip in the bazaar passed very quickly. Mr Ambrose practically browbeat the merchants into giving him their wares for free, so anxious was he to get me out of there. No wonder he was so rich, if these were his usual ways of negotiation.
Now and again, he threw dark glances at me and my ‘bathrobe’. Every time I saw him do it, I gave my headscarf a determined tug. The thing was really coming in useful. I hadn’t realized how much heat it would absorb! For the first time in hours I was resting in peaceful shade.
It was only when we all gathered around the camels and Mr Ambrose started giving his orders for our way to the ship that I realized someone was missing, had been missing, in fact before we even arrived. Blast! How had I not noticed this before? It wasn’t as if he was hard to overlook or forget.
‘Where’s Karim?’ I demanded.
Mr Ambrose froze in the act of reaching for his camel’s bridle. He hesitated. ‘He… couldn’t come.’
A claw of cold apprehension gripped my heart. O God! Why hadn’t I thought of this before? Karim had still been in our hotel room when we left! He had faced all those attackers alone! Had something happened to him?
Please let him be all right! Please!
Yes, the huge Mohammedan and I hated each other with a vengeance - but it was a quite chummy way of hating. I wouldn’t like to have to look for someone new to despise. Not at all.
‘Why?’ I asked, my voice managing to remain steady. ‘Is he injured?’
‘In a way.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Mr Ambrose turned away, so I couldn’t see his face, and started fiddling with his bow tie. ‘You remember there was a fire in the hotel?’
‘Yes! And? Was he burned?’
‘Not really. He got half his beard singed off.’
For a moment I blinked into nothingness. ‘What?’
‘His beard. Half of it is burned off. He seems to be very put out by it.’
Slowly, very slowly, a grin started to spread across my face. ‘He is, is he?’
‘Yes.’
‘So, where is he now?’
‘At a barber’s shop, undergoing emergency surgical barbering.’
My grin widened. ‘Oh dear. How terrible. I must remember to express my sympathy, the next time I see him.’
Mr Ambrose gave me a very level look. ‘I’m sure he will appreciate that very much.’
And with that he started marching down the street, leading the camels behind him, his men swarming out in a protective circle. With his men forcing a path for us through the crowd, we reached the ship in record time. A man was standing guard at the gangway and saluted when Mr Ambrose approached.
‘As-salamu alaykum[23], Effendi.’
‘Are the weapons ready for loading?’ Mr Ambrose demanded.