Read The Master's Wife Online

Authors: Jane Jackson

The Master's Wife (21 page)

‘I believe so. Formal discussions have finished until after the wedding.’ She followed his glance towards groups of men making their way from the outlying tents of recent arrivals towards a large
bayt.

‘All the important leaders of the tribe are gathering at the groom’s father’s tent to drink tea and coffee, offer their congratulations, and present gifts to the bridegroom and his father. Then we will be eating. I’m told that after the marriage ceremony the bride will be taken to her new husband’s tent and won’t be seen for the rest of the celebrations.’

‘After so much preparation and so many people I imagine she will welcome some quiet time.’

‘You never liked crowds.’ He brushed her cheek with his fingertips. Unexpected, it stopped her breath. ‘Are you finding it very difficult?’

‘Less than when we arrived. Fayruz and her family have been very kind. Though in some ways things are very different here, in others – people are people wherever they live. They care about their families, enjoy a wedding, love their children –’ she cleared a sudden thickness from her throat. ‘I’ve learned a lot, even a few words of Bedouin dialect, though my efforts sound as if I have a cough.’ She looked across to where the Sheikh stood, as still as a rock, while Antonia talked and gestured. Jago followed her gaze.

‘Is she giving you trouble?’

Caseley hesitated. ‘Not exactly. It’s just – she doesn’t seem to realise that our behaviour here reflects on Sabra and Sheikh Imad.’

‘You would be welcome anywhere.’

Spoken as a simple statement of fact, his words warmed her more than any flowery compliment. ‘You should go.’

‘Later I will leave the Sheikh to talk privately with the tribal leaders. Will you meet me?’

‘Where?’

‘I’ll find you.’

When the food was ready – rice cooked in broth and goat meat simmered in a spiced yoghurt sauce – the young people of the two families carried platters first to the tents of the bride and groom’s fathers, then to other nearby tents. As always, men and women ate separately. Sitting with Sabra and Antonia, Caseley heard lively conversation and laughter from every part of the camp.

‘When will the ceremony take place?’ Antonia asked.

‘After the meal. It is very brief, just a formality,’ Sabra said. ‘The bridal contract was arranged some time ago in front of witnesses and Sheikh Imad’s uncle.’

After the meal, platters and dishes were gathered up, the fragrance of fresh coffee filled the air, and trays of honey and almond cakes were passed around.

Then everyone followed the bridegroom’s family walking in procession to the bride’s father’s tent, singing songs accompanied by a one-stringed violin and drums.

The women of the bride’s family had displayed all the gifts given to her by the groom’s family on several blankets spread on the ground at the front of the tent. The guests proceeded past, adding their gifts. The most important was a female camel and her calf. Others were three sheep, two nanny goats with kids, sacks of rice, engraved platters and money.

‘The bride and groom give their promise separately,’ Sabra whispered. ‘They do not see each other until he takes her to his tent.’

Caseley thought back to her own wedding, standing with Jago as they made their vows. She couldn’t watch any more and edged away from the chattering women as a handsome camel with a decorated halter and tent-like structure over the saddle was led forward. The bride was helped onto the saddle, the cloth folded around her like curtains, and she was led away to her new husband’s tent surrounded by the women of both families singing and clapping.

A small boy stood by himself; left behind as the women crowded round the bride’s camel. He couldn’t have been more than three, the same age as her younger son James had been when ... Caseley felt a tearing wrench in her chest.

His little face puckered, his eyes widening in panic as he realised his mother wasn’t coming back. He started running towards the women, tripped over a stone and fell flat on his face.

Caseley was already running, her limp making her ungainly. After an instant’s shock he struggled to his feet, howling in shock and pain. But his shriek was lost beneath the women’s high-pitched ululating cries.

She scooped him up, cooing comforting words he couldn’t understand. Gradually his screams subsided to hiccupping sobs as he peered at the blood on his scraped knee. Telling him what a brave boy he was, she dabbed away his tears with one end of her head cloth then wiped the blood from his grubby knee and kissed it better.

He stared at her, his brown eyes awash, tears tracking down his dusty face, small chin quivering. She wiped his eyes again then brushed the end of the cloth lightly against his nose. He smiled and pushed it away. She tickled him gently and started to put him down. But he clung, arms and legs tightening around her.

So she limped to and fro with him on her hip, holding one grubby little hand in hers as she sang the lullabies she used to sing to her boys. He tucked his head between her neck and shoulder and the weight of the little body in her arms breached the carefully built dam. Memories overwhelmed her. A sob made her chest heave. Anxious not to frighten him, she bit hard on her bottom lip, too hard, and tasted the warm saltiness of blood.

Hearing Sabra call her name she turned to see a group of women approaching. One hurried forward and the little boy reached out.

Caseley handed him over and quickly dashed away her tears. She ran her tongue over her lip, felt the soreness and swelling. ‘He fell. Please –’ she cleared her throat. ‘Please tell her I meant no harm.’

‘She knows that,’ Sabra said as the women murmured among themselves.

‘What have you done?’ Antonia demanded. ‘Why is your lip bleeding?’

‘I bit it,’ Caseley said. ‘It’s nothing. Will you excuse me?’

‘Where are you going?’ Antonia demanded.

‘For a walk. The noise – I have a slight headache.’

‘Come,’ Sabra cupped Antonia’s elbow and drew her away.

Caseley walked to the well. She could still feel the weight of the toddler in her arms, the warmth of his little body against hers. Her babies. Her beautiful sons. The pain was unbearable. She scooped up cold water. Pressing wet hands to her burning face she fought the sobs that would wreck her if she gave in to them.

She bathed her face again then dried it with the end of her scarf. Her lip throbbed. Seeing a young man coming towards the well, she moved away towards the camel pen and paused to look at the regal animals.

Some stood, others had their long legs tucked beneath them and gazed about with stately disdain as they chewed, their jaws working one way then the other. Several of the females had long-legged, curly-coated youngsters with them.

She had to go back. To stay away any longer, especially on a day of celebration, might appear discourteous. Her breath shuddered in her chest. Her face felt tight and her eyes stung. But they were dry.

She started walking towards the camp then stumbled as she saw Jago with Antonia pressed against his front. She froze, light-headed with shock.


No.

The sound of her own voice startled her. She whirled around and walked away.

‘Caseley!’

Ignoring his roar she carried on walking. She heard running footsteps. Her arm was grasped. Violently she wrenched free.

He caught her shoulder, turned her towards him.

‘God in heaven, what happened to your lip?’

‘You care?’

He stiffened. ‘Of course I care.’

‘Oh please.’ Sick at heart she turned away. But he moved round to face her.

‘Tell me what you think you saw.’

‘I know what I saw.’ Her contempt was withering.

‘No, you don’t. I know you to be fair and just. So please, allow me to explain.’

Caseley looked away, hugging her arms across her trembling body. Desperate to escape, she had nowhere to go.

‘Antonia came out of the tent, clearly upset. I was coming to meet you and mistook – She rushed over and threw herself against me. She was sobbing. I grasped her shoulders to prise her loose. That is what you saw. If you ask her she will tell you the same. She must because it’s the truth.’

‘Why did Antonia throw herself at you?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t ask. Nor do I care. I left the gathering to come and meet you. I had no interest in anything else.’

‘Did Louise Downing fling herself at you as well?’ As the words tumbled out, propelled by intolerable anguish, she saw his shock. ‘Did she cling so tight that you were unable to shake her off?’

‘That meant nothing.’ His voice was harsh.

‘It certainly meant something to her. She flaunted her conquest in my face with pride and a pitying sneer. If I count for so little –’

‘Don’t say that! You could not be more wrong.’ He grasped her upper arms, his fingers biting into her flesh, and she glimpsed desperation. ‘You are everything to me.’

‘I wish with all my heart I could believe that.’

‘You can, you must.’

‘No, Jago. You words are worthless if your actions betray them. You say I am fair and just. So if you were driven to find comfort elsewhere I must take some of the blame.’

His bitter laugh made her flinch. ‘
Comfort?
I wanted escape, oblivion. I did not seek comfort. I deserved none. When you needed me I was not there. By the time I got home our sons were buried. You had faced it all alone. Never in my life have I felt so useless. You never spoke a word of reproach, but you had withdrawn from me. I have to live the rest of my life knowing I let you down. How could I comfort you? What had I to offer?’ Anguish roughened his voice.

Scalding tears spilled down her cheeks. ‘You could have held me. Let me rage and weep, at God, fate, my failure to save them. Had I not cared for them well enough? Were there other treatments, other medicines we could have tried? If I had done all I could why did our boys die when others lived?’

He released his bruising grip and gathered her into his arms. ‘Oh Caseley, my dearest –’ His voice cracked.

‘I was so tired and nearly out of my mind with grief. Yes, and fury. But you were at sea. You didn’t know. I did blame you for not being there, even though I knew it was unjust. I could have borne it better had you been with me.’

‘I wish you had told me.’ His voice was unsteady as he drew her closer, his bearded cheek warm against hers.

‘I wanted to. But you were very distant and I was so afraid –’

He raised his head. ‘Of what?’

‘That you blamed me.’

‘How could you ever think so?’

‘You never reached for me.’

‘I ached for you. But it felt selfish. I wanted to give you time.’

Relief loosened painful knots of tension. ‘Oh, Jago.’

Tilting her chin he covered her mouth with his own, lightly, tenderly, careful of her sore and swollen lip. She felt his quickened heartbeat beneath her palm and knew her own matched it. The sharp crack of a gunshot made her start violently.

‘Don’t be frightened. Sheikh Imad warned that this is the traditional way the groom lets everyone know he has – that his bride is now his wife.’

‘You are teasing me.’

‘Indeed I’m not.’

‘Goodness. How very –’

‘Public?’ Jago murmured.

Holding Caseley’s hand against his chest, Jago rested his head against hers. She felt his breath warm on her cheek. ‘Do you remember when I said you amaze me, and you replied that perhaps I expected too little? You’re wrong. I relied on you totally and took you for granted.’

‘Every time I went away on a voyage I never doubted that you would manage everything in my absence. The image of you that I carried in my mind and my heart gave me strength. Because I had complete faith in you I expected to return and find things the same as when I left. And they were, except the boys were bigger and had learned new things they couldn’t wait to show me.

‘I was so glad to see you, to be with you again, that regardless of any problems in the business or the yard all was well in my world. You would give me all the news and –’ one corner of his mouth tilted in a brief smile, ‘a list of matters requiring my attention.’ He was quiet for a moment. ‘Did you miss me?’ The unexpected wistfulness in his tone tugged at her heart.

‘Every hour of every day. But it would have been cruel of me to say so and cause you to worry. You were relying on me. I could not let you down.’ Her breath hitched. ‘Only I did.’

‘No, no, no,’ he said softly. He kept his arm around her shoulders as they crossed the stony ground to some low rocks. Daylight had faded to purple dusk and the full moon rose in a rapidly darkening sky. From the camp came the sounds of music, singing and laughter. In the pens sheep and goats bleated and the camels grumbled.

‘Rosina, Liza-Jane and Ben were wonderful.’

‘So I would expect. I never doubted that all of you did everything you could.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘You were so fortunate, being with the boys every day. Each time I came back from a voyage they had changed. I imagined them sailing with me when they were older. I had plans to show them the world ...’ His voice faltered.

Caseley clasped his hand between hers. ‘I’m so very sorry.’

‘For what?’

‘Shutting you out. I was –’
Destroyed.
‘I did not give you the comfort you deserved and should have expected.’

He raised her hand and kissed it. Then he tilted her chin and gently kissed her mouth. He raised his head and in the cold, silvery moonlight his eyes were dark and bottomless. ‘Caseley, I –’

She silenced him with a finger against his lips.
Now
. She would face it now. ‘I wanted to come to Egypt with you because I don’t know who I am any more.’

He started to speak but she wouldn’t let him, covering his mouth with her fingertips. ‘Please, Jago, let me finish. I have been an outsider since I was twelve years old. I was with my mother in the pony-trap when it overturned and she was killed. Everyone sympathised with my father over the loss of his wife, and with Ralph and me for losing our mother. But I lay awake every night reliving the moment the birds flew out of the hedge and scared the pony. I kept thinking of all the things I might have done.’

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