Authors: Isobel Chace
Some young boys clattered past on their donkeys, waving their arms in the air and yelling something to Fawzi as they hurried on.
‘
We have everything
in Petra to be comfortable,
’
he muttered.
‘
There is a camp not far from the museum. There is food, everything, and a place to stay.
’
‘
But I don
’
t want to stay here
!
’
A horse that had followed the donkeys whinneyed gently beside her, and the rider, muffled up to the eyes in his
kaffiyeh,
the cloth some Arab men wear over their heads that
was
held in place with a black, knotted band, jumped down on to the ground, his boots sending the water splashing up all over Marion
’
s legs.
‘
You
’
ve left it too late to go back now. They
’
ve closed the Syq. I was the last person to get through.
’
Marion stared at him, unaware of the wet, unaware of anything except his familiar voice. Her heart thundered within her and her mouth dropped open in an astonished delight that would not be denied.
I
t was Gregory.
‘
But you
’
re at Denise
’
s party
!
’
‘
That was last night,
’
he reminded her.
‘
Wake up, Marion! This isn
’
t the time or the place for you to go off into one of your day-dreams. I had a hell of a job persuading them that I had to come after you, and I
’
m in no mood for you to be anything but grateful that I managed to get here
!
’
B
ut she could only stand there and stare at him, still not believing that it was really he. No wonder he thought her a complete ninny, she thought crossly. If she didn
’
t pull herself together soon, she wouldn
’
t blame him if he lost all patience with her and went away again. And she still had to tell
him
that Lucasta and Gaston were missing. How was she going to find the words to tell him that? He had
trusted
her—
‘
Marion, was I wrong after all? Aren
’
t you at all glad to see me
?
’
‘
Oh
yes
!’
‘
Then what are you crying about
?’
‘
I
’
m not
!’
H
e put his hands on her shoulders and shook her till her teeth rattled.
‘
Now tell me what it
’
s
a
ll about
!
’
he commanded grimly.
‘
Oh, Gregory
!
’
she sobbed.
‘
How did you get here? Wasn
’
t it a nice party
?
’
‘
It had its moments. I drove down through the night, if you want to know. I
’
d have been here earlier if it hadn
’
t been for the rain.
’
M
arion sniffed, wiping her face with her hands.
‘
Didn
’
t you get any sleep at all
?
’
she asked him.
H
e shook his head.
‘
I was looking forward to showing you Petra,
’
he said wryly.
‘
But you said you wouldn
’
t bring me here! You said
nothing would induce you
to come here with me
!
’
H
e grinned.
‘
Did I
?
’
T
he
kaffiyeh
on his head gave him a rakish air that was borne out by the gleam in his eye. She took a hasty step backwards out of his reach and patted her horse
’
s streaming neck. The animal was remarkably unappreciative, tossing his head and moving away from her until the driver pulled on the leading rein and took
him
away to the nearest shelter. Gregory called after him and handed over his own mount too, turning to the young guide and slapping him warmly on the back.
‘
Well, Fawzi, how are you these days
?
’
he asked him.
‘
Well, Mr
.
Gregory, as well as this weather will let anyone be
!
’
Gregory chuckled.
‘
I
’
m afraid we
’
re stuck here until it clears up. Will you go ahead to the camp and tell them we
’
ll want some kind of a meal and that Miss Shirley will want to try to dry out her clothing? I
’
m sure they
’
ll be able to fix up something for her.
’
‘
It is my pleasure,
’
the young man assured him.
Marion watched him splash his way down the ancient Roman street beside the line of columns that the Romans had raised and which an earthquake had thrown down again, feeling that her last friend in the world was departing. There was no excuse now for not telling Gregory about Lucasta.
‘
Why don
’
t we go with him
?
’
she asked.
He put his head on one side and looked at her, taking in her agitated, damp features, innocent of any makeup, her wet clothes that clung to her body in the most revealing way, and the give-away movements of her fingers that betrayed her extreme nervousness.
‘
You
’
re not frightened to be alone with me, are you, Marion
?
’
‘
Of course not
!
’
she denied.
He waited for her smile to break across her face and was disappointed when it didn
’
t come.
‘
What
’
s the matter
?
’
he asked her gently.
‘
I
had hoped you might be pleased to see me
!’
If
he only knew! Her eyelids fluttered and she hung her head, searching for some way of telling him about Lucasta.
‘
You
’
re going to be terribly angry,
’
she said abruptly.
‘
And I don
’
t blame you
!
’
She paused, rallying herself.
‘
I
’
ve lost Lucasta
!
’
To her indignation he threw back his head and laughed.
‘
Is that all? My dear Marion, don
’
t you know how pleased I am to have you to myself—
’
‘
You don
’
t understand
!
’
she interrupted him.
‘
It was all my fault! I should have known how it was, but I didn
’
t think for a moment they were fooling me. I thought they
’
d quarrelled, I really did! But now I
’
m not so sure. They must have knocked on the wall and arranged to go off then—and I
didn
’
t even wake up
!’
‘
My poor love
!
’
He was still laughing and she cast him a speaking glance that should have restored his sobriety but somehow only had the opposite effect.
‘
I haven
’
t the faintest idea what you
’
re talking about,
’
he went on, still amused,
‘
and I refuse to discuss it any further out here in the rain. You can tell me all about it when we get inside somewhere. Have you seen the Urn Tomb
?
’
She nodded.
‘
Fawzi was going to show me the Silk Tomb,
’
she volunteered.
‘
Then we
’
ll go there. We
’
ll throw in the Corinthian Tomb for good measure. It isn
’
t the same in the pouring rain, but we
’
ll come again one day and you can stay as long as you like.
’
Her heart turned over within her. When would she come again? The answer seemed to her to be a certainty. She would never come to Petra again, with or without Gregory.
She wasn
’
t aware of the exact moment when he had taken possession of her hand, but when she wriggled her fingers in his trying to get free, his grip tightened alarmingly and she gave up the attempt, pretending to herself that she didn
’
t care either way. But she did. She liked to feel his strong fingers against hers. She liked it far too much!
‘
You should have gone straight to sleep when you
reached the Rest House,
’
she chided him.
‘
You must be exhausted
!
’
He smiled intimately into her eyes and it was like standing in the face of a stiff wind. She couldn
’
t breathe at all and yet it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her.
‘
It felt like crossing the Atlantic, ploughing through all that water,
’
he said, on the edge of laughter.
She remembered he had talked about America, his new-found-land, before, but she thought he had probably forgotten. Besides, there had been nothing to tell her that
she
was on the right side of the Atlantic. Denise might be there, and she no more than a responsibility, the old country, the one he had to get rid of before he could make his conquest of the new.
Her hand trembled in his.
‘
Was Denise very angry when you left
?
’
‘
She was a little put out. Your friend Jean-Pierre had done nothing to improve her humour by making it very clear that he wished he had stayed behind with you after all.
’
‘
Oh.
’
Marion was nonplussed by that.
‘
H
e isn
’
t my friend.
’
‘
He talked as if he were,
’
Gregory drawled out.
‘
Well, he isn
’
t. I don
’
t have friends like that
!
’
‘
I
’
m glad to hear it.
’
She peeped up at him, her misery slipping away from her. Did he know, she wondered, that she had to almost run to keep up with him, and, if he did know, did he care?
‘
I don
’
t see why it should matter to you,
’
she murmured.
‘
It was I who had to put up with him.
’
He tugged at her hand, hau
li
ng her along across the multitude of rivulets that had formed on the rough ground.
‘
Did you now? Well, let me tell you, young woman, that you
’
d better forget all about that young man. I now know how the British felt when they disembarked and found the French had got there before
them. You were never destined to be French
!
’
S
he chuckled, her face bright with laughter. He had been talking about America after all
!
‘
The French had a great reputation for bringing their brand of civilisation to the most remote areas,
’
s
he reminded him.