The Perfect Match (24 page)

The heat and the smell of animals overlaid with the smoke of wood fires hit Alice, as she got off the plane a couple of hours later. She always looked forward to that moment, when you knew you were really abroad. The sky was indigo, and it was dark but still bustling as if no one ever slept here.

‘I’ve always wanted to see my name on a signboard at an airport, and not just the name of my company,’ said Alice when they finally emerged at the place where travellers met the outside world. People were everywhere and she was looking round for a sign leading to taxis.

‘Will my name do?’ said Michael. ‘Over there.’

‘I think it might,’ said Alice a few moments later, as she was handed into a limousine. She decided solo travel was overrated.

By now, Alice was expecting a gorgeous hotel and she was not disappointed. Nor was she disappointed with the excitement of the city: the narrow, bustling streets, vendors still hard at work offering enticing treasures, carpets, spices, jewellery, ceramics. Even in the dusk Alice was delighted by the intensity of the colours, like poster paints after the tasteful watercolours of England.

The riad – a hotel to the rest of the world – was delightful; it flung an aura of calm around them like a blanket of serenity. The staff were stately but assiduous. Bags disappeared, mint tea was offered and, finally, they were shown a huge room, which was actually a suite.

‘How did you organise this at such short notice?’ Alice demanded the moment they were alone, looking around her in delight.

‘Contact in the travel business, but we were very lucky. I’m so glad. I would hate our first time away together to be anything less than perfect.’

‘You set high standards!’ Alice knew he was talking about the hotel, but she was worried that he’d want everything else to be perfect too, and she wasn’t sure it could be.

She wandered around the suite admiring the décor, which had a distinctively French edge to it, and found two marble bathrooms, one huge and one smaller. Both were perfectly appointed, with spa-quality towels, delicious toiletries and multiple mirrors. She could have done with fewer mirrors.

The sitting room opened out on to a balcony overlooking an inner courtyard. A pool glittered below, surrounded by carefully clipped trees. It was somehow everything Alice had been expecting but more.

‘What would you like to do?’ said Michael. ‘Have something to eat here? Or shall we find the rooftop restaurant?’

‘It might not be open,’ said Alice. ‘Let’s have something here.’ She didn’t want to break the spell – just the two of them in this glorious room.

‘Here’s the menu. Think what you’d like and I’ll call down.’

Alice ignored the card he handed to her. She felt too tired to make decisions. ‘Can I be boring and have a club sandwich?’

‘I always have a club sandwich if I have room service,’ said Michael. ‘It seems right, somehow.’

‘I always do too! That or a steak sandwich and salad.’

Michael nodded. ‘Yes – only I have to ask them to hold the mustard. I hate mustard.’

Alice stared at him. ‘I hate mustard! We are twins separated at birth!’

Michael chuckled at her gently. ‘I really do hope not. That would be wrong for so many reasons.’

Feeling foolish but not minding too much, Alice got up. ‘I think I’ll go and fiddle about with my belongings while you order.’

The bed was absolutely enormous. It would be easy to share, but she was still nervous. She was tired. Although there was no time difference to contend with, she still felt a good night’s sleep was what she wanted more than sex with a man she didn’t know very well. Even though she was in love with him, it was still a big step.

When she’d chosen her side of the bed (the lady’s privilege, surely?) she unpacked a few things and then went out to join Michael. He handed her a glass of champagne.

‘Oh, thank you. Shall we have a toast?’

‘Here’s to us, then.’

Michael smiled into her eyes, and she felt a delicious little stab of desire. Perhaps the going-to-bed thing would be all right.

They went back to the balcony and sat, sipping but not talking, waiting for room service.

‘Can I make a suggestion?’ said Michael after a few minutes.

‘You can,’ said Alice.

‘When we’ve eaten, I think you should have a relaxing soak in the biggest bathroom, and then we both have an early night? I know that technically this is a dirty weekend, as they used to call it, but I don’t think we should rush things.’

Alice sighed gently. ‘I think that sounds perfect. I had been feeling a bit like an old-fashioned bride on her wedding night, nervous and jumpy, not sure what to do – ridiculous as that sounds.’

‘So had I,’ agreed Michael. ‘Well, not a bride, obviously, but under a bit of pressure.’

Alice laughed, relieved and so much more relaxed. He was so thoughtful and seemed to sense how she was feeling, what she needed from him. ‘Imagine how it must have been in medieval times, when your bride might be only thirteen and a stranger to you. You were fourteen and the entire court, including your mother, were there to watch,’ she said. Alice had a penchant for historical fiction.

‘Dreadful,’ declared Michael. ‘Let’s have some more champagne!’

He was incredibly tactful. He went for a walk while she ran a bath, soaked in it and then got into bed. By the time he came back she was clean and relaxed with her hair done, sitting up in bed reading her book-group book. She felt like a very respectable sixty-year-old, if you overlooked the fact that she had put on some very discreet make-up and not yet put on her face cream.

‘Hello, you,’ he said and came over and kissed her cheek. ‘Was I too long? I wanted to give you space but I didn’t want you to feel abandoned.’

‘It was the perfect length of time. And what bliss to have two bathrooms! Otherwise I’d have had to clean out the bath after I’d had mine when all I wanted to do was flop into bed.’ He didn’t need to know what she’d done to herself before she’d slid between the zillion-thread-count sheets, relishing their icy coolness.

‘I won’t be long. Unless you’re gripped by that impressive-looking bit of literature, I think we should get some sleep.’

He kissed her cheek again, and then they both switched off their bedside lights. When she heard him gently snoring, she took out her face cream and applied it liberally.

Sometime near dawn, Alice was woken by the call to prayer. She loved the feeling of foreignness it gave her, of being abroad. She was in Marrakesh, in Africa. She had forgotten how much she enjoyed travelling. Michael had awakened her sense of adventure, and she loved him for it.

For a while she lay there, enjoying the sensation. She had slept surprisingly well considering she hadn’t thought she’d sleep at all. She liked the sound of Michael’s gentle snoring in the bed next to, but not too near her. But then, convinced she wouldn’t be able to drift off again, she got up and took her case into the bathroom. While she showered, brushed her teeth, creamed her face and wondered about washing her hair, she considered her outfit for the morning. Then she replaced the touch of make-up she’d just washed off and got back into bed.

Lying there, she thought about her choice of clothes. The maxi dress was cool and the blouse was multi-purpose. Too much flesh on show wasn’t appropriate in a Muslim culture, she felt, the sun would be roasting hot and she didn’t want to get burnt, and, most importantly, she never showed her arms except in the privacy of her own garden. Taking off whatever covered her arms would be harder for her than taking off her knickers. It wasn’t logical but it was how she felt. She was just wondering if she should add a scarf to the outfit, when she drifted off to sleep.

She awoke to find Michael looking at her.

‘Good morning,’ he said politely.

‘Good morning,’ she said back.

‘You look very well rested,’ he said, and Alice felt her early trip to the bathroom had been justified.

‘I think if you don’t mind we should make an early start. It’ll get extremely hot later,’ he went on.

‘Fine by me. I’m an early riser anyway.’

‘Good!’ said Michael and got out of bed. ‘I’ll meet you downstairs, shall I? I might get dressed quicker than you do.’ He smiled. ‘On the other hand, if I don’t, you can be first to get to the coffee.’

After a breakfast of the most amazing pastries and fruit, they decided to go to the souk.

‘It’s either that or a camel ride,’ said Michael.

‘The souk. If we were here longer I might like a camel ride but for a long weekend, shopping is a priority. Before it gets too hot.’

The souk was dazzling. The clothes people wore, the things for sale, in fact anything that could be a rich and vivid colour, was. Alice had to stop herself exclaiming every two minutes about how wonderful everything was. Being appreciative was one thing, looking totally naïve was another.

The crowds meant it was natural for Michael to take Alice’s arm, and together they wandered from stall to stall, amused at the antics of the owners as they tried to claim their attention. Alice stopped at one selling rugs, and discovered that she did actually need a small one to cover a patch of worn carpet on the upstairs landing.

She drew Michael away. ‘How much do you think I should pay for it? The trouble is I have no idea what a good price is.’

‘Well, you have to haggle; it’s part of the deal. I’m afraid I don’t know how much you should pay either.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ said Alice.

After fifteen minutes of spectacular entertainment, she was the proud owner of a small rug, tightly tied with string. Alice was laughing almost hysterically as Michael took the bundle from her.

‘That was worth it even if I hadn’t got a rug at the end!’ declared Alice. ‘Really, that man is wasted selling carpets. He should be on the stage.’

‘I agree. It was cheap at half the price.’

Alice put her hand to her mouth. ‘You don’t think I paid too much for it, do you?’

‘I think you haggled like a local. Now let me try my skills.’

He led them to a stall selling scarves and bought three for less than the original price for one. He draped one over Alice’s head, then took it off and replaced it with another. ‘That’s perfect for you.’

‘Oh, thank you,’ said Alice, surprised and delighted.

‘Now, I think a cold drink before a bit more shopping. Are you up for it?’ He managed to look concerned in a way that didn’t make Alice feel old and decrepit, and she was grateful.

‘An ice-cold drink and a sit-down will refresh me enough for a bit more shopping,’ she said and let herself be led to a nearby café.

‘Well, I think we’re officially lost now,’ said Michael calmly a couple of hours later. ‘It says in the guide book we should now hire a small boy to guide us.’

‘But how do we know he won’t just take us in the wrong direction for fun?’ Alice’s feet were beginning to hurt.

‘I’ll explain he won’t get paid until we end up at the right riad.’ He frowned slightly. ‘Are you walked off your legs?’

‘My feet are a bit sore.’

‘I don’t think we’re too far from home.’ He looked around and spotted a likely guide. ‘Young man? Can you guide us to the Riad Isabelle?’

He was an efficient guide, and it wasn’t long before they were back in the now familiar calm of the hotel sitting on the terrace with more cold drinks and a plate of hors d’oeuvres in front of them.

‘Let’s go upstairs,’ said Michael, when they’d eaten.

‘Good idea. I want to take my sandals off. Why is it that shoes are perfectly comfortable in England and then become agony the moment you take them out of the country?’

‘It’s probably something to do with you taking them out of their comfort zone,’ explained Michael solemnly.

Alice giggled. ‘I expect that’s it.’

After he had unlocked the door, she walked across the room to the balcony, kicking off her shoes as she went. She turned back to Michael. ‘Now what shall we do?’

He looked at her thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing. ‘I think that now, I shall take you to bed.’ Then he took her into his arms and kissed her.

Alice decided to just go with it. It would either work or it wouldn’t. Pulling out now for lack of nerve wouldn’t make anything better. It was time to take a chance.

The bedroom was in semi-darkness, the shutters closed against the heat of the day. It didn’t take Michael long to slip off the thin muslin shirt she’d thought she’d never relinquish, and unzip her dress. He laid her down on the bed and looked at her appreciatively.

Aware he could only see a very obscured version of her nakedness, Alice smiled calmly back at him. It was going to be all right, she decided.

Alice snuggled down. It had been utterly blissful. ‘Would it be rude if I went to sleep now? I’ve lost track of the etiquette.’

‘It’s fine if you want to sleep. I do too.’

‘Good,’ she said and drifted off.

When she awoke about half an hour later she lay still, listening to Michael breathing, thinking how relieved she was that everything did still work, and that the sex had been lovely. She sighed with pleasure, deeply enough to wake Michael.

‘Hello, you.’

‘Hello, you!’

‘That was amazing, wasn’t it?’ he said.

‘Mm,’ said Alice dreamily.

‘Fancy another go?’ He smiled at her.

Alice chuckled. ‘You make it sound as if you’re suggesting another turn on the merry-go-round.’

He moved nearer to her and kissed her shoulder. ‘I think that describes it perfectly.’

‘Are you cold?’ he said at breakfast the following morning. They were on their balcony and a shaft of sunshine shone down over the high walls to land exactly where they were sitting.

‘Not really,’ said Alice, surprised.

‘I’m just wondering why you feel the need to wear a cardigan.’

‘This isn’t a cardigan,’ she said indignantly, pulling it closer. ‘It’s a shrug. It’s quite different.’

He raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘That’s a cardigan. Why don’t you take it off?’

There are times, Alice decided, when it’s best to just not argue. As a man he wouldn’t understand if she tried to explain how she felt about her arms. She took off the shrug and resolved to keep her arms clamped to her sides for the rest of the meal. When they went out she could justifiably put it back on again for all sorts of reasons.