(Continuing David Blaine’s Story, which began with The Golden Orb)
Direct sequel to No Wave Without Wind
By Atonia Walpole
(Picture creations also by Atonia)
Three years had passed since David Blaine returned from China. He and Charlie married and now had a daughter named Lyssa. He continued in an off and on way to contribute to garden design and was always at the beck and call of Martha Langston to help in any way he could. He was a favorite with the National Trust Garden Association. Modest by nature he shunned the spotlight, preferring to quietly go about his business.
Charlie retired from her governmental covert work, however she would occasionally do research work for Cramer. Her main focus was on David and Lyssa. Right now she was focusing out of the back door of the 1920’s house outside of London. The two most important people in her life were planting water lilies in the fish pond. David was up to his waist in murky water placing the potted plants and weighing them down with stones. Three year old Lyssa’s job was to pass him stones and not fall in the pond. So far she had been successful.
He was content to pass his days this way, a little serious work on the garden, a little playtime with Lyssa, a little playtime with Charlie and the quiet time he carved out of each day for himself. He’d formed a space in the greenhouse for his meditations. Lyssa and Charlie did not bother him when he was in there in his special place, his special space.
He would sit quietly and let his mind go where it would. Often it went back to Hong Kong and the life he knew there. Sometimes it would flow back into his youth, his time at Cambridge and his time with Prince Ali, a time when they were two beautiful young men very much in love with each other. He still kept in touch with Ali by email; they rarely talked by phone anymore, finding it easier to write than speak the words they wanted to say. Ali would be forty this year. David often wondered where all the years had gone. Except for the past three years, he had nothing to show for his life…nothing at all. Ali was a Prince in a land where princes were as common as camels. He had his place in the family, his place in the land of his birth, his wife and six children and his many lovers.
For Ali it was a time of turmoil. The gulf war had torn apart many families, and alliances formed over hundreds of years now lay in tatters. It was hard to know who your friends were from day to day. He was becoming paranoid and trusted no one. It was in this state that he contacted David and asked him to visit with him. David agreed. It had been over three years since he’d seen Ali...It was time.
He was to leave on the Sunday and today had been fine, the weather warm with the sun and he was waist deep in his koi pond.
Charlie looked down at her paint-splattered shorts. She was painting the dining room. The house was all in white except for a couple of rooms painted an aqua green. David liked the whiteness but Charlie didn’t. They’d agreed on an ocher and she now wore it on her skin as well as her tan shorts. It bothered her that he was going; it bothered her a great deal. She’d tried to put her thoughts aside and enjoy the last few days with him but they wouldn’t lie quietly. He was going to Ali and she wasn’t.
Their daughter’s high pitched voice and her husband’s deep soothing baritone filled her, bringing a smile to her face. She walked out into the garden, their heads nearly the same height and nearly the same color. David looked up at her and smiled.
He was nearly 36 but his body was still firm and tanned, his eyes still blue-green sea glass.
“How’s it going? Are you about done?”
“The last one has gone in.” He looked back at the muddy-looking pond. “They will be beautiful. You will see.” He moved over to the side of the pond and pulled himself out, losing a rubber boot in the process. He went under for it and came up slinging his wet hair in circles. Once his eyes cleared, he glanced at her legs. “Have you painted yourself?”
“Everything…floors, walls, windows…everything.” She looked at him evenly.
“I know you jest. You would not paint the lovely wooden floors.”
“You’ll have to climb out of the muck and come and see. Besides, Murdo says tea in forty minutes.”
“Tea in forty minutes.” He took a breath. “I love the sound of that, don’t you?”
“I’m only hungry and thirsty, not weighing words today. Come and clean up.” Charlie picked up Lyssa while he climbed out and turned a hose on himself over by the greenhouse. He found an old pair of shorts inside to change into for the walk to the house. His tendency toward nudity was curtailed now that Lyssa was with them.
He walked around the empty dining room, taking in the shadows and the way the afternoon light played on the ocher walls. “I like it. It is very warm. The walnut table will go well in here. Add some reds, some greens…yes, I see now what you saw with this color.”
“It’s better than white. White is nothing….”
“Ah, my love, white is clean and fresh and unsullied. A blank space to fill with yourself.”
“Or to fill with Lyssa’s handprints. It’s not practical. It won’t be long until all the walls here are sullied. One by one we’ll have to repaint the rooms.”
David looked at her a moment and passed by her, running his hand over her stomach as he did so. He paused at the door. “Do you not see that she is filling the space with herself? Already she knows her powers.”
She stared at the door after he left. No, she did not see. She never saw what he did unless he pointed it out. They were as different as night and day and she was still as fascinated by him as she was the night she met him in Hong Kong a long time ago. He was a dreamer, a little mystical sometimes. She was practical and down to earth. She kept his feet on the ground and he kept her from becoming blind and deaf to the world around her.
She turned around and looked again at the ocher room. Reds and greens, huh?
Later they were lying in bed. “How can you go without knowing when you’ll return? I mean, is this a week or two weeks or what?”
“I cannot tell you a date I will return. If I did it would be a lie for I do not know myself. Ali has asked me to come for a reason. He did not go into details. I will not know until I arrive and speak with him. I will let you know as soon as I do.” He laced her fingers with his and kissed each one.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve been separated for any length of time. For you I’m happy that you’re happy. I know you must miss him.”
“Well then, you do not know for I do not miss him at all. We stay in touch but we each have our own lives now and mine is very important to me. You and Lyssa are my life. Everything I do is for you, for your benefit. This is a small thing I do for me, for Ali. He has some troubles and has asked for my help. I cannot refuse him, Charlie, for he has done a lot for us. I owe him my life.”
She lay her head on his chest and listened to his strong heart beat. It beat for her she knew. How he loved her, but always that fear she kept locked in the back rooms of her mind, that fear of Ali and what he represented. Something she could not compete with.
A soft rain was falling on Sunday. They stopped along the way to Heathrow for an early lunch. Charlie was driving her little car and David was talking with Lyssa, strapped in her car seat in the back. She’d lost track of their conversation, something about beetles and then rain boots. The windshield wipers kept time with her heart, every swipe, every turn of the wheels taking him away, away from her.
“The plane is waiting for me. It is Ali’s private jet. There is no need for you and Lyssa to come inside the airport.” He leaned across the seat and kissed her softly, running the tip of his tongue across her bottom lip, met her eyes for a moment and turned to say goodbye to Lyssa. Charlie was barely breathing. She popped the boot so he could pull his luggage out. He turned and smiled, waving in the rain before disappearing inside the terminal. A car horn brought her back and she moved from in front of the passenger area around the loop and back out onto the highway.
Lyssa sang herself to sleep in the backseat. Charlie adjusted the mirror a little so she could see her. She hated driving in the rain. You couldn’t see…she swiped at her windshield with her scarf…and fumbled for the defroster. The rain was inside the car; her eyes overflowed.
Part 2
He’d half expected Ali to be on the plane but he wasn’t, only an assistant to wait on David, who didn’t need waiting on. He read, listened to music and slept most of the way. The plane landed on a private airstrip and a line of black SUV’s waited.
Ali waited inside the third vehicle and took David’s hands when he climbed in. “My dear, you have come to me when I needed you most.”
“You asked me to come and I am here. What is this need you have?”
“I will tell you in good time. You look well. I think marriage and fatherhood agree with you.”
“Yes, they do,” David smiled, his eyes sparkling, “and you are doing well for a man who has just celebrated his 40th year.”
“You would remind me! Ah, it is good to see you again.” Ali took a breath. “I have a new residence. That is where we are going.”
“How is your family?” David asked.
“They are well. They are in Jeddah at the summer palace.”
“By the sea…and you are not with them?”
“No, until this thing is settled, brought to light or finished, it is better I do not go to them.”
“What thing is this?” David asked quietly.
“It is the war; we have enemies we do not know. It is not widely known, Blaine, one of my brothers was killed in his own home. We cannot trust our own people. I think there is someone in my inner circle who wishes me dead. I don’t know who he is, not yet. That is why I asked you to come. You have been invaluable in the past. In Hong Kong you were very good and, of course, because I love you and trust you above all others.”
“I will do what I can to help you find him if he exists.”
“I knew you would. Do you mind wearing this? It is for your safety as well as mine.”
David settled the Arab headdress over his hair.
“You are beautiful, you know…”
Blaine glanced at him and smiled a little then looked out of the window.
The new residence was long and low and pristine. Inside it was cool and very modern. Blaine’s luggage was taken to his rooms and he followed Ali into a courtyard. Soon tea was served and he was able to enjoy a cigarette with Ali.
“What is it you wish for me to do? Have you thought it out?” David asked.
“I mentioned my inner circle. I would like for you to join in, get to know the players and tell me what you think. These are people who aid me in business, some personal aides, some bodyguards. You see, I do not know from which direction it will come.”
Blaine frowned at the seriousness of his friend’s statement. “Surely there are people you can trust, Ali.”
Ali looked down at his slim brown cigar. “The killer of my brother knew him for twenty years. Unfortunately he was killed before he could be questioned. Our father is dying. I see it every time I look at him. He is grayer and older than the day before. It will not be long now.”
“Who will…it won’t be you, will it?”
“No, if Abdullah survives, it will be him. I am third in line. The fourth has been eliminated and an attempt at Mosul’s life has been made, so you see where I am. We believe someone is trying to change the course of our Kingdom. It is very strange when your whole family, and ours is very large, is put under surveillance. I have many cousins, some I do not know very well at all. They are being watched. You are an outsider and perhaps you can see what we cannot.”
It occurred to David that his presence would soon be known to all and if his relationship with Ali was known also he could be putting himself in great danger. “What provisions have you made for my safety?”
Ali smiled, “You will have an honor guard with you at all times. You may not know them as such but they will be with you.”
“Can they not also be with you since they are trusted?”
“They are with me. I will show you to your rooms. You may rest a while if you wish and tonight there will be a dinner and then who can tell.”
The suite was luxurious and David made use of the large bath and the comfortable bed. His clothes had been unpacked and hung in the closet but he did not dress in his own clothes. Ali had ordered specially made Arab dress for him and he donned the robes before leaving his rooms. He liked the robes. They reminded him a little of the kimonos he wore in Hong Kong.
“There you are, my darling. Come with me.” Ali led him into a room filled with cushions of many colors around a center fire. Low tables were here and there and some were occupied. He was introduced simply as Blaine, an old friend.
Blaine did not speak the language and Ali requested they address him in French, which they did, curious about him. Several young men waited the tables and prepared the food. Each table had a taster, someone to make sure the food being served was not poisoned, such was the state of Ali’s circle. David sat across from Ali and the taster, a very handsome young man, sat beside Blaine and tasted his food before placing it in his mouth. It was a very intimate thing for him to do, Blaine thought. Later as the evening progressed he began to understand what Ali had provided for him, if he wanted it.
His last encounter had been with Ali nearly four years ago on the plane from China. He’d tried to live straight for Charlie’s sake but Charlie was a world away and he was never more conscious of that fact than now. The young man had kohled his eyes and he brought out the pencil and offered to do Blaine’s. Ali encouraged him and Blaine let him.
Ali sat and watched the young man seduce Blaine. He thought it beautiful to see. He planned to join them when the time was right. The young man called Joh was his by rights but what was his was Blaine’s.
The next morning Blaine woke alone in his bed. He had a slight headache and suspected he’d been drugged the night before but he didn’t care. He smiled, remembering the night and the experience.
He spent his days with Ali and met the people he worked with and over time he began to form his own opinions about them. There was nothing to suggest they were more than they appeared to be. They were fiercely loyal to Ali.
He made one call to Charlie to let her know he was there and was all right and that he did not know when he could return. He would let her know later on.
Charlie was glad to hear from him but it was a most unsatisfactory phone call. How could he not know when he could return? He could leave tomorrow. The door to her fear was beginning to open a little. She knew David had no better friend than Ali aside from herself, but Ali was more and she didn’t trust him.
Blaine had been there for a week when one morning he asked Ali, “What kind of drug does Joh use?”
“He is clean. He does not take drugs,” Ali replied.
“Yes, he does and he gives them to me. I never have headaches unless I am with him.”
Ali’s dark eyes burned for a moment. “We shall see. Do not take anything from him.”
“I will not take anything from him and I advise you not to take anything, either.”
Joh was missing for a couple of days and when he came back to join them at dinner he was very subdued and quiet.
“He says they were only to enhance sexual performance but he gave them without permission and he has been punished,” Ali said over dinner.
Blaine looked at Joh and noticed a slight bruise on his cheek. So he had been beaten…he wondered by whom. Had Ali beaten him? He couldn’t believe that of Ali. He’d seen him fight in school but to hit a lover, no.
It was a different world he was in, devoid of women. He’d not seen a woman since he landed. Ali was going into Riyadh for awhile and he took Blaine with him. There were women here covered from head to toe in their garments as they moved around the city. They did not interest Blaine. He was with Ali and sometimes they had Joh with them. He could understand Ali’s attraction to the young man. Wherever he went he was surrounded by men dressed as he was but underneath their garb they were heavily armed.
He watched Joh placing food in Ali’s mouth one evening and then his and it occurred to him if he could place drugs in the food he could also place other things, deadly things.
“What do you know of Joh?” he asked Ali.
“You do not trust him, do you?”
“He could do great harm if he wanted to.”
“Yes, I suppose he could. He was given to me five years ago by his family. They are reputable people, well known. He is clean. He is sweet, is he not?”
Blaine smiled a little, “He is very sweet but I do not trust him, Ali. He has access to you as no one else does. He has the opportunity. He could be a martyr.”
“Joh, a martyr?” Ali chuckled. “I don’t believe it! He enjoys himself too much. He likes all the pretty things I give him. He likes you.”
Blaine blinked and looked away. “He is jealous of me.”
“Nonsense! He is a toy with an on and off switch. I turn him on when it pleases me and turn him off when it does not. You love him a little, Blaine?”
“No, I don’t love him at all. He’s a pretty thing, a pleasure toy. When are we going back to Riyadh?”
“Tomorrow.”
It was easy enough to do. Joh was already harboring feelings for him. All he had to do was pretend to return them. What is mine is yours, Ali had told him.
Part 3
She’d been marking them off on the calendar, three weeks, then four and now five. Five weeks and three without a word from him. How long was she going to stand for this? She paced about the kitchen. It was Mordo’s day off and she was reheating a casserole for lunch. Lyssa was at the table with her sausages.
“Mummy-Daddy.” She laid two sausages side by side.
Charlie paused by her chair. “You’re right, Lyssa, side by side. That’s where we belong.”
She couldn’t just go and get him, could she? What if he didn’t want to come home? That was the real fear, that he would get so caught up with Ali, plied with everything he could want and then some, that he would forget how important she and Lyssa were to him. Fear that he would be pulled into that, that other side of him, fears that he wouldn’t want to come back to her. But this sitting and waiting was wearing her down. She’d had enough.
Later she sat in the den while Lyssa watched her videos, playing with her cell phone. Yes, the number was still in there. Only a call away and she would know very soon exactly where he was. Cramer would find out. He was a British subject; the embassy would know since he kept company with Prince Ali. It might make him angry with her…what of it? She was angry with him. She punched the number and walked to the doorway.
She had Lyssa in her stroller and half way into the village when the call from Cramer came back. David was in Riyadh with Ali. She looked down at Lyssa’s curly head as she bounced along on the walkway. Could she possibly talk Mordo into watching after Lyssa for a few days? A few days? It would take a couple to get there and then what? She had to find him and talk to him. It would take at least a week. Mordo wouldn’t do it, not for that long. She had her own family to look after.
She almost ran into her with the stroller, so preoccupied with her own travel plans she failed to notice Martha Langston standing outside a coffee shop with a newspaper folded under her arm.
Mrs. Blaine?”
“Oh, I’m sorry! I nearly ran you down. How are you, Miss Langston?”
“Very well. How is Blaine?”
“I wish I knew. He’s, um, visiting a friend in the Middle East.”
“I was just reading about the royal family. Sad business.”
“Sorry, I….” She shook her head.
“The king has died in Saudi.”
“Oh…well, then…oh no!” She bit her lip again, her eyes threatening to spill over.
“Did you know him personally?”
“No, not him…one of his sons. Uh, he and David were college roomies.”
“Are you quite all right, Mrs. Blaine?”
“No…” her voice waivered, “I’m not all right…not at all.”
Martha loaded the stroller in the back of her Rover and gave Charlie and Lyssa a ride home. After she got Lyssa settled down for a nap on the daybed in the library she made tea and sat down with Martha and told her about David. Martha quietly listened and sipped her tea.
“My dear, what you tell me is not shocking to me at all. In fact, I was surprised to find out about you. It makes no difference to me. He is a very talented and sensitive young man. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“Yes, Miss Langston, he can’t do this to me. I won’t let him leave me hanging like this. If he wants to live with Ali then he has to tell me so and Lyssa and I can get on with our lives. The problem is Lyssa. I’ve no one to care for her while I go and find David.”
“I’m not a babysitter, Charlie, but if
you don’t mind and you are determined to go, I shall make myself available to
travel with you. It might help to have another person along.”
“Oh, I couldn’t ask…are you sure? Because if you are.…”
“Of course I’m sure. I’m quite fond of David Blaine and I would hate to lose him to the desert.”
Charlie smiled, “Thank you, thank you so much.”
Charlie leaned against the door after Martha left. She was committed now. Her mouth felt dry and her hands shook a little. This was crazy. She was only going to see her husband, David Blaine, the man she’d married, Lyssa’s father, the man she loved. It was fear. Out now from its locked room, it wandered at will through her mind.
It wouldn’t be Charlie’s first trip to Saudi Arabia. She’d been there once on an assignment…in another life another age. She tried outfit after outfit, tossing things from her closet. She hadn’t lost all the weight from her pregnancy. Dear God, Lyssa was three years old! Frantically she pulled out things, trying to pack. She lived in jeans and tee shirts and bought clothes for Lyssa, never herself. No wonder David…no, she wouldn’t even go down that road. Fear rambled through her closet.
She found the black, wrinkle-free stretchy things she’d bought in Tokyo. They would do…have to do. Pants, tops, skirts, jackets, she had the whole set. She had one rolling bag of her things; the large bag was for Lyssa. Everything was ready. She just had to get it to the car and to the airport where Margaret would be meeting her.
Once at the airport Martha took over. She was good about ordering sky captains around, porters and taxis in Riyadh.
She stood at the window on the 20th floor overlooking the city. Somewhere out there, somewhere was the man who loved her so well, whose touch sent shivers up her spine. He could make her knees buckle with a kiss…somewhere out there…but in here, in this room, Lyssa was jumping on the beds. She should be asleep. Her sleep patterns were all off now. Martha, exhausted, was across the hall asleep. Oh…fear had unpacked itself here thousands of miles from home. Lyssa jumping on the beds, “She’s your daughter! Why aren’t you here?” she cried out and the lights of the city blinked back silently.
The next morning she went to the British embassy. She was required to register but while there she asked to speak to a woman Cramer had talked to.
“I’m looking for my husband,” she admitted after a while. “He is a special friend of Prince Ali. I expect he’s probably with him. I just don’t know where they go or where I might contact him.”
Miss Strickland was sympathetic and smiled at the little girl Charlie had on her lap. “Well, Mrs. Blaine, it may not be so easy to track Prince Ali right now. You are aware of the transition? His eldest brother is acting king since the death of his father. The family members have been in Riyadh and in various governmental buildings. I cannot tell you where exactly he might be right now. They are, of course, in mourning and we do try and show respect in such situations.”
“Is there some place they have been seen, maybe a restaurant or club or something, anything…I…”
“Can you not call your husband?”
“No, his, um, phone is not…he’s not taking my calls.”
Miss Strickland scrolled down her screen. “There is a restaurant they have been seen in a number of times. Of course this was before the death of his father and I have no way of knowing if your husband was with his entourage.”
Charlie thought he probably was. “If I might have the name or address of this place?”
She and Martha took a taxi to the address, a very exclusive type of place, a place where a woman would not go unescorted. It wasn’t a tourist attraction. How would she ever get in there, she wondered aloud.
“Well,” Martha peered over her glasses, “I should think if you offered one of the young men at the embassy a free meal you might find an escort, don’t you think?”
“You know, Martha, things are different in this country for women. There are certain restrictions.”
“My dear, I’d like to see somebody try and restrict me. I’ve sat with royalty in my day, princes and princesses I’ve dined with. Still if we can snag a young man from the embassy.…”
Charlie dressed in the long black skirt. It was slit to her thigh, but it couldn’t be helped. Most of her was covered when she added the jacket. She paid particular attention to her face, makeup applied with a light hand, her own special scent David had made for her in France when they’d gone over for their brief honeymoon. She wore her wedding ring and gold earrings. Martha agreed to stay at the hotel with Lyssa. The young man, William Mays, picked her up in the lobby.
She tried to fill herself with her old confidence, the Charlie who traveled the globe, the old Charlie who was involved in secrets, covert operations. That’s how she’d met David. Confidence, the old Charlie…the old Charlie hadn’t known the fear that rode with her in the taxi to the restaurant with a man she didn’t know.
Part 4
The meal was finished and still she dawdled. William had inquired about Prince Ali and been told he was not in the building.
Finally she got up to go to the ladies room. She had mistakenly crossed to the wrong side of the dining room where the men’s room was located. Realizing her error, she turned around and came face to face with David Blaine, but it was a David she had never seen before. She took a step back and it was only her scent that brought his head up to face her. It was unique to her, just as his was to him. They starred at each other a moment until he broke the silence.
“Charlie, whatever are you doing here?” It came out almost as a sigh
“I…I came to find you.” She took in his kohled eyes, the rings on his fingers and his fine white robes. “I’m too late.…” she heard herself say.
“I cannot talk to you here. Where are you staying?”
“The Hyatt…but I’m not sure we need to talk, David. You,” she swallowed, “you’ve become Ali’s whore, haven’t you?” She backed away from him and turned, bumping into chairs as she fled toward the door where she could breathe before she passed out.
He leaned against the wall. It was so unexpected seeing her there. She was so out of context, so out of place and time…Charlie…oh, God.
He’d been gone too long. Joh came and found him inside the men’s room crying.
Charlie barely remembered the trip back to the hotel. She’d gone straight to her room. Lyssa was asleep and Martha with a book in the chair by the lamp. It was as if she saw it from a distance, Martha talking to her but she couldn’t hear. She stumbled to the bathroom and threw up her very expensive meal.
The phone rang at 10:00 the next morning. Charlie watched it ring for a while and then picked it up. Martha had taken Lyssa over to her room. It could be.…
“Charlie, I want to talk to you to explain.”
“Charlie’s not here anymore. I’m not sure she ever was here.”
“Can I come up?”
“No.…”
“We have to talk, darling.”
“I am not…not your darling.”
“You are my wife.”
“Oh…I don’t think so.” She sat up in the bed and punched the pillow next to her. “I had a husband in England. We have a daughter but the man I saw last night, he’s not mine, he never was…” She turned as Martha came in with Lyssa all bathed and dressed.
“Sorry you have reached the wrong room. There is no one here that you know.”
Martha took a look at her and didn’t like
what she saw. “Who is that?” she asked, taking the phone from Charlie’s hand.
“He’s downstairs…I don’t want to see him. I’m going to get up and call the airlines, get…get out of here.”
Martha whirled around and headed for the door. She caught up with him standing near the doors in the lobby.
“Mr. Blaine?”
He turned, face devoid of makeup, dressed in a western suit. His lips parted. Another person out of place and time. “Miss Langston…?”
She looked around, spotting a fountain and some rather secluded seating. “May we sit?”
He followed her over and sat down.
“Your family is upstairs, Mr. Blaine, your wife and daughter. It seems we are to fly back to England on the first plane we can get onto. It’s been a rush, rush to get here and now a rush, rush to get back. I don’t like to do things in a rush. What are you doing here, Mr. Blaine?”
“I…I came to help my friend.”
“And have you helped him?”
“I do not know yet. I believe I have but if I leave…his life is in danger.”
“Well, heh, surely a man of his considerable means can protect himself? I hear he travels about with an entourage, armed no doubt. What particular talent do you bring with you that will protect him? I see you don’t like that question. Your wife didn’t like what she saw last night. It’s upset her terribly. She’s not herself this morning. I’ve had to play nanny to your daughter while you swan about in white robes and eye makeup.”
Blaine sat stil,l saying nothing.
“I haven’t a problem with you, Blaine. Your sexual preferences have nothing to do with us. I find you a good companion and a damn fine designer. I’ve put you up for Bolton Abby. They’re considering some changes. I need to know if I should take your name down, if you’re coming home to England or staying in the desert.
“I am coming home. I need to finish what I started here.”
Margaret looked at him for a while. “There are some men who should not marry. I think, David, that you are one of them. It’s not fair to Charlie. She was so afraid she was going to lose you to this prince. Now she thinks she has and she wants to go home and lick her wounds, which are considerable.” She looked away for a moment. “I have never married, never saw the need for it. I like you, but you’ve got a seductive way about you, conscious, studied or perhaps you’re totally unaware of it. You want to watch that…you seduced Charlie, hook line and sinker.”
“I love her, I need her…I’m not going to stay here, not for much longer. She has not lost me. I would not be here now if she had. This is not a place for her and Lyssa. She should go home.”
“Go home and what, wait some more, worry some more and conjure up some more nightmares? She told me she accepts you for what you are and she loves you, but you can’t treat her like this and expect it to be okay when you decide you’ve had enough of whatever it is you’re having here in Riyadh. Had you kept in touch with her it might be different. How long has it been, four weeks or more? That’s not acceptable. You married her for whatever reason and you need to honor that or get out of it.”
He looked down at the floor. Her words had hit their mark. “Thank you for speaking with me. You have always been a straight arrow with me, given me work when I needed it, pulled me back when I went too far. I needed to hear what you have said to me. I am caught up in a situation I cannot walk away from right now. Ali is in seclusion with his family. I cannot get to him and tell him what I must. Soon…it will be soon. She will not see me…?”
“No, perhaps it was your choice of eye shadow?” She looked him straight in the eye. "You’ve got a lot of work to do with her and I don’t envy you the job. Now I must go and repack my luggage. The job at Bolton begins in three weeks. You’ll need a little time to go over it first.”
Martha left him in the lobby and went upstairs to her room. Her things packed up, she went across the hall and knocked on the door. “Charlie…Charlie?” She leaned her head against the door and could hear Lyssa singing. “Charlie?” She knocked harder.
She went back to her room and got the extra key card and opened Charlie’s door. Suitcases were open on the beds, clothes scattered about, Lyssa sitting in the middle of the bed with a stuffed doll singing.
Margaret checked the bathroom and came back into the room. “Lyssa…where’s your Mum?”
Lyssa finished the line of her song and looked up. “Gone.”
“Gone? Where, where did she go?”
“Gone with the man.” She began another verse of her song.
“Who was he? Did you know him?”
“No, he gave me this dolly.”
Margaret frowned and began to look around the room. Charlie’s purse was still there on the table open, her cell phone still on the charger. It looked as though she’d just stepped out. Margaret sat down in a chair. Had she gone down to see David after all? “Lyssa, the man that gave you the dolly, did your mum know him? What did she call him?”
Lyssa sighed dramatically, “She called him son of a beach.”
“Oh dear, and he wasn’t your Daddy?”
“No, we don’t know who he is.” She rubbed her dolly’s hair.
ON TO PART 5
BACK TO NO WAVE WITHOUT WIND
BACK TO A THOUSAND NEW PATHS
BACK TO THE GOLDEN ORB
BACK TO LIBRISCROWE