Charis (4 page)

Charis had expected Cairo to be all brown and desert. She was amazed
at the reality of the place; a huge cosmopolitan city. She was fascinated by
everything she saw as they drove through Cairo.  The juxtaposition of rich and
poor, religious and secular, old monuments and new buildings, ancient and
modern side by side, the River Nile, the lifeblood of Egypt for thousands of
years, running through the centre of Africa's largest city.

Her excitement mounted. This could be the holiday of a lifetime. If
only it wasn't for Henry. As she thought of Henry a frisson of fear ran through
her.

What on earth am I doing here?
she asked
herself.
I could’ve made the worst decision of my life in trusting him.
At home in London the fear of Henry had receded, but now…getting closer to
seeing him again, suddenly she was afraid, but it was too late to turn back.

Finally they arrived. Charis almost couldn’t believe the grandeur of
the place. It looked more like a palace than a home. Abdul suggested she go
ahead and he would get her bag and bring it in. As she turned to climb the
steps, the massive door was opened and she entered into a large hall; marble
pillars around the sides and beautiful mosaics on the floor. A servant directed
her to follow him and as she turned to see if Abdul had brought in her bag and
to thank him, she thought she heard his voice call from outside, “Sorry missy” and
then the huge door slammed shut.

PART II

BEN

It was almost 9 p.m. and Ben had been at
the table since nine that morning and this was his third straight day of
negotiations. But now it was done and he knew the King would be pleased with
what he had accomplished. He stood and stretched to ease his muscles, cramped
after sitting for so long. This had all been new to him – he was only there as
a favour to his uncle, the King, and only because his cousin was involved in
the negotiations for the other side. The agreement was fair to both sides - his
cousin Ravi's smile assured him that he was happy with the deal.

Ravi had been gone for about an hour a little earlier in the evening
and had returned looking very serious. Ben had raised his eyebrows in question
but Ravi had just smiled at him. Now he approached Ben and spoke in English.

“Sorry old man, but I have to leave you for a few days,” he said.
“My old father-in-law has just popped his clogs and I need to accompany my wife
to the funeral. We have to leave immediately but I want you to stay. You
must
treat this as your home. I've been a guest at yours many times.  Ahmed has
instructions to take his orders from you and you must stay as long as you wish,
or at least until the King has had a chance to approve the agreement and wants
you back in Dubai.”

Ben's uncle was the King of Qumrai, and was currently on an official
visit to Dubai and would be there for a few days still. Ben's inclination was
to refuse Ravi's offer but felt it would be churlish to do so. He was amused at
Ravi's continued use of British phrases even though it had been several years
since he was there at school and university. Ravi had often spent time with
Ben's English family during holidays. Ben's mother had always welcomed people
into their home. It always seemed to be full, not just with family: aunts,
uncles and cousins, but with the children's friends, too.  Ravi had been a
welcome visitor. He was a few years older than Ben but they’d always got on
well together since they’d first met when Ravi arrived in England to attend school
at the age of twelve.

Ben smiled in agreement, said all that was polite about Ravi's
father-in-law and turned to leave.  Ravi followed him to the door, slapped him
on the back and said, “I've sent rather a special surprise to your room old
boy…to keep you company while I'm gone. Enjoy your evening!” and gave a hearty
chuckle as he walked away.

Ben groaned inwardly.
Probably a girl
, he thought.
I would
really rather just be left alone to relax and sleep.
He made his way to his
room; up the deep marble staircase and along the passage way, the floors
covered with expensive rugs muffling his footsteps. He was surprised to see his
bedroom door standing open, a small travel case just outside. Two servants
stood in the hall chatting, one right in the doorway. He approached them and
spoke in Arabic. They inclined their heads, called him “Highness” and turned to
leave after placing the case just inside the door.

*****

The sight of the girl standing in his room took his breath away. She
was on the other side of the room looking out of the window, her face in
profile. She looked almost ethereal. Her hair, a soft shade of brown or maybe a
very deep gold, curled around her face and tumbled over her shoulders. The
flimsy robe she was wearing clung to her and he could tell she was naked
underneath. She had an incredible body. Ben had very definite views on the
female form. Not only was he not attracted to skinny women, he’d been heard to
refer to fashion models as “stick insects”, but he also considered it very
unhealthy to be too thin. But this beautiful girl seemed to be perfect - just
the right amount of padding and curves in all the right places. She held the
robe tightly as if afraid it might fall off. He could see that her skin was
fair and he wondered where and how Ravi had found her.

He closed the door and startled, she spun around and he knew immediately
she was the most exquisite girl he’d ever seen. They gazed at each other in
silence for what seemed like forever, probably only a few seconds, but for
Charis it was though time stood still. It was Ben! It was
her
Ben. Now
she would be safe. He would take her home. The horror she had been feeling at
the thought of what was awaiting her, gone…vanished in a single moment. She
almost cried with relief as the realisation that it was Ben flooded over her. She
took a few steps forward and formed the word “Ben” just as he spoke to her in
Arabic. She stopped mid-step. It wasn’t her Ben after all. The fear returned,
washing over her again. She was engulfed in it once more.

“I'm sorry,” she said, her voice trembling. “I don't understand a
word you're saying.”

“You're English?” he asked in surprise.

She pulled herself up to her full height,
all of about five foot
and four inches
, he thought smiling to himself, and raised her chin almost
in defiance, trying desperately to conceal her fear…to be brave.

“Yes!” she replied.

“What on earth are you doing here then?”

“I believe I am here so that some degenerate, lecherous, debauched,
old, fat and ugly Arab prince can satisfy his lust.”

Ben's instinct was to laugh but he could tell the girl was serious. “You're
what?”

“I said, I am here so that some degenerate, lecherous, debauched,
old, fat and ugly Arab prince can satisfy his lust.”

“Yes, that's what I thought you said.” He looked at her quietly for
a moment taking in the beauty of her face, the high cheekbones, her deep blue
eyes, the shape of her mouth and her clear fair skin. “Must this Arab prince be
degenerate, lecherous, debauched, old, fat and ugly?” he asked her.

“Well, possibly not,” she admitted. “The degenerate, lecherous and
debauched bits are just my idea of what he must be like, but I am reliably
informed that all Arab princes are old, fat and ugly!”

“All of them?” he questioned her.

“All of them,” she insisted.

“Well,” Ben paused a minute before he continued. “I'm not old.”

“No,” she agreed.

“I don't think I'm fat,” he added, patting his stomach.

She shook her head.

“And I hope I'm not ugly.” 

She smiled a little and whispered, “No.”

“But I am an Arab prince.”

Her voice held surprise. “Really?” she asked.

“Really.” It was Ben's turn to insist. “Allow me to introduce
myself. I am Prince Ali Ben Yousef el Hussein, grandson of the late King
Mushtaq el Hussein of Qumrai, and nephew of the current King Azhar. But you may
call me Ben.”

As he said his name was Ben, she looked at him more intently for a
moment or two before she introduced herself'. “I am Charis Elizabeth Jane
Ainslie. Or I should say,
Miss
Charis Elizabeth Jane Anslie of London.” Then
she added somewhat condescendingly, “That's London…
England
, but you may
call me Charis.” 

Once again her little chin was raised in defiance. By this time Ben
was thoroughly enjoying himself and trying not to laugh, but he couldn't keep
the amusement out of his eyes. He’d taken off his suit coat and tie and undone
the top button on his shirt while they were talking and now was nonchalantly
half sitting, half leaning against the edge of a small table, his legs straight
out in front of him, ankles and arms crossed.  

“This reliable informant of yours, did they have any other bits of
valuable information to give you?” he asked.

“Oh yes, lots,” she replied. “In fact, all the time she was getting
me organised to come up here she never shut up. ‘Nice to be able to practice my
English,’ she said. ‘Oh, your prince will love the colour of your hair,’ and ‘Your
skin is so soft, your prince will be so pleased,’ and on and on until I felt I
would go crazy. But I finally managed to shut her up.”

Ben smiled at her. “I'm impressed. How did you manage to do that?”

“I told her that he would most certainly not be
my
prince,
that the last thing I wanted to do was to give him any pleasure at all, and
that as far as I was concerned, he could go straight to hell. She was so
shocked she stopped speaking to me.” Charis' look dared him to disapprove as
she spoke.

Now Ben couldn’t stop himself from laughing out loud. “I bet she was!”
he chuckled. “Arab girls are taught to please their menfolk above all else.”

“Yes, well, I am
not
an Arab girl.”

“No! You are most definitely not. So, no more reliable information?”

Charis hesitated for a moment or two before she said, “Well, just a
little. She relented as we got up here and told me not to worry, that they were
all so old and fat that even with those who were still capable, it would all be
over in just a couple of minutes and then they would sleep it off all night on
the other side of the bed, but they might keep me awake with their snoring.”

“Presumably she spoke from experience.”

“Presumably,” Charis agreed.

“And you, Charis?” Ben asked quietly. “Do you have any experience?”

“With old, fat and ugly Arab princes?”

“With anyone, Charis?”

Charis shook her head. He had to lean closer to hear her whisper,
“No.”

“You're a virgin then?” He couldn't hear her reply, but noticed
tears in her eyes and she nodded. Ben walked over to her, put his arm around
her and held her quietly while she wiped away her tears. “We don't have to do
this you know. I'll get another room and leave you in peace,” he said as he
turned to go.

“No! No, please don't go.” Her voice was desperate as she reached
out to grab hold of his arm.

“You know what will happen if I stay?”

Charis voice was indignant and she wiped away another tear as she
replied, “Just because I have no practical knowledge or personal experience
doesn't mean I don't understand the theory.”

“But it's not what you want,” he said. “And it doesn't feel right. I
really should go.”

“No, no please! I don't want to be alone,” she begged him.

Ben's voice was harsh as he spoke. “I am not in the habit of raping
innocent young virgins.”

“You know as well as I do that if I am willing it's not rape.”

“Not technically, no,” he had to agree.

In a small, hesitant voice she asked him, “You don't want me?”

“Oh Charis, I can honestly say that I have never wanted anything in
my life as much as I want you right now.”

“Then please stay – please stay with me.” Once more she begged him. Her
fear of what was to happen had not gone, but at least this Ben was young, and
despite herself she liked him. She’d known him for less than half an hour but
already felt comfortable with him, almost safe with him.  If this vile thing
was going to happen to her, rather with him than anyone else. And if he left
her, who was to say another prince, one old, fat and ugly wouldn’t take his
place?

There was a long pause while Ben looked searchingly at her. “If you
are really sure it is what you want.”

Charis nodded.

“Very well. Get rid of this then,” he said indicating the robe she
was wearing. “Get into bed and I'll join you in a few minutes.” He turned to go
into the dressing room but looked back. “I must warn you though, it will most
definitely not be over in two minutes, possibly not even in two hours.”  And he
disappeared through the doorway.

Charis watched him leave. She was trembling from head to toe. Ben
was right when he said it wasn’t what she wanted but she’d meant it when she
said she wanted him to stay. The thought of being alone and waiting…waiting to
see who would come to use her body had terrified her. When Ben had walked into
the room she’d almost sobbed with relief and had to stop herself from running
into his arms and begging him to take her home. She was sure he was
her
Ben, the love of her childhood. But he couldn't be.
Her
Ben, not really
hers at all but on the rare occasions that she had thought of him in recent
years that was what she felt he should have been, was a doctor in England, not a
prince in Cairo. And then
this
Ben had spoken to her in Arabic…and the
spell had been broken. But it was true that she felt safe with him and she
instinctively trusted him. Charis didn't know why. Was it because he looked and
sounded so much like the other Ben?
Her
Ben? Or was it something that
innately belonged to him? Whatever the reason and whatever happened between
them was infinitely preferable to her horrific thoughts of the alternative. And
after Ben left, whether tonight, tomorrow or next week, she knew she wouldn’t
be able to go on. She would have to end it all but this time she would make
sure she succeeded.

She heard him leave the bathroom and knew he would be back in just a
minute or two. He’d told her to take off her robe and get into bed so she
pulled on the ribbon tying the belt around her waist.

*****

Ben had deliberately taken his time, first in the dressing room and
then in the bathroom, to give Charis time to regain her composure, or give her
time to ponder his last statement and change her mind. He hoped it would be the
latter. He was worried…worried and very uncomfortable.
But what to do?
She seemed determined and he was having a serious argument with himself about
the situation.
What was she doing here anyway?
She was certainly a very
desirable young woman, perhaps the most desirable he’d ever seen, but still he
hesitated, not sure how to proceed, wondering what would be the right thing for
him to do. She obviously didn't want him to leave her alone to face an unknown
partner. Maybe he could still convince her to change her mind. And all the time
the thought he was having was that this could be an important turning point of
his life, almost as though fate had led him here…led him to her, as though some
force beyond himself was drawing them together.