In the Eye of the Storm (Storm and Silence 2)

‘Faster! Faster, Ambrose!’

Another few steps and bleats of protest later, and the sand parted, revealing a prone, black-clad figure, already half-buried in the sand.

‘Mr Ambrose!’ Slipping from the camel’s back, I fell to my knees beside him. ‘Mr Ambrose, Sir! Are you alive?’

‘Go away,’ he growled.

Yes. Definitely alive.

‘Why on earth should I?’ I demanded.

‘It’s not safe wandering around in this kind of tempest!’

‘Oh, you’ve only just figured that out, have you?’

‘I told you to stay where you were!’

‘And I didn’t listen. Now come, get over here.’

‘Didn’t you hear what I said? Go!’ He tried to push himself up, to push me away, then sank back down with a half-groan, half-cough. ‘Go, I said! My lungs are being shredded! You have a camel; maybe you can make it out of here alive. Leave me to die in piece!’

‘Not a chance in hell! If you’re going to die, I’m going to make sure your last minutes on this earth are as miserable as possible!’

‘How very kind of you!’

I tried to tug at him, tried to pull him towards the camel, who was visible only as a dark form through the haze several feet away. But, opening his eyes, he stared up at me with those deep, dark, sea-coloured eyes of his and shook his head. ‘No! Leave me! Save yourself!’

I narrowed my eyes. ‘Are you being unusually noble, or do you simply not want a girl to save your stony behind?’

Silence.

Well, I guess I had my answer.

‘So that’s the way it is, is it? Well, I’ve got news for you, Dick, my dearling,’ I told him, and tugged firmly at his arm again. He slid a few inches in the right direction. ‘I’ve still got a wedding ring on my finger, and so do you, however temporary it may be. Do you know what that means? That means that right now I vow in the presence of God, a camel and a buttload of sand, to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, in happiness as well as in sadness, and even when you behave like a bloody arrogant idiot! I promise to hate you unconditionally, to support you in your aspirations as long as you pay me for it, and to honour and respect you as long as I get a free day off every week. This -’ I gave another tug, and he slid closer to the shelter of the camel ‘is - my - solemn - vow!’[27]

‘How moving.’

‘You think it’s moving? Then move your behind! We have to get over there, pronto!’ I pointed to the dark outline of the camel, who was peacefully snoozing through the sandstorm a couple of yards away. ‘At least Ambrose will give us some shelter from the storm!’

‘You,’ he rasped, staggering to his feet and stumbling over to my mount, ‘are going to change that camel’s name!’

‘Oh, I am, am I?’

‘Yes!’

‘We’ll just see about that.’

Both of us slumped to the ground next to the very, very aptly named camel. Ambrose was not paying any more attention to us than to the grains of sand battering his impressive rump. Instead - surprise, surprise - he remained perfectly cool and silent. Leaning over to the very, very, very, very, very aptly named camel’s saddle bag, I pulled out a second headscarf, and poured some of my remaining water over it.

‘Here!’ I held it out to Mr Ambrose. ‘Put that over your mouth and nose!’

‘That is Arabian women’s clothing! I will most certainly not-’

Smack! Even over the racket of the storm, the sound of the wet cloth hitting him in the face was satisfyingly audible.

‘Leave it on if you do not want to choke to death! If you do, be my guest and remove it.’

‘What was that about honouring and respecting me?’ came a muffled voice from beneath the cloth.