sight of the official flag. Whatever Ali was like as a ruler, his people were glad to have him among them again. Unless…
‘Do they do that of their own free will?’ she challenged Ali.
‘Do what?’
‘Wave and smile.’
She thought she heard him mutter, ‘Give me patience!’ Aloud he said sardonically, ‘No, of course not. I issued a decree that anyone who doesn’t look pleased to see me is beheaded in the market-place.’
‘Sorry,’ she said ruefully.
Ali glared, but relaxed into a sigh.
‘I ought to have you beheaded for daring to insult me,’ he said. ‘But you’d only come back as a ghost and lecture me. Now be quiet and cover your face. We’re nearly there.’
A few minutes later they swept beneath a huge archway and up to a broad flight of steps where several men in robes were waiting. One of them pulled open the car door.
‘Remain here,’ Ali commanded, and Fran stayed in her seat.
As he walked away someone else got into the car, which moved off immediately. It was a tall woman, who removed her veil.
‘I am Rasheeda,’ she said. ‘I am to take you to your apartments.’
She reached out and unhooked Fran’s veil, fixing a long, hard look on her face. Her lips pursed critically, as though she disapproved of what she saw, and Fran began to feel that this was rather rude. But she concealed her indignation. With Ali’s authority behind her, she had nothing to fear.
The car seemed to move for a long time, and she sensed that they were travelling right round to the back of the palace. Just before it came to a halt Rasheeda replaced her own veil, and nodded to Fran to do the same.
‘Follow me,’ she said as she left the car.
The way led up a flight of stairs, less ornate than at the front, and into a long, tiled corridor that was mercifully cool. In the few minutes between the car and the building Fran had felt the heat of the day that was rising fast. She breathed out, and Rasheeda gave her a quick glance.
‘In your apartment you will find servants ready to make you comfortable,’ she said.
‘Thank you. You were expecting me, then?’
Rasheeda shrugged. ‘We are always prepared for one more.’
It seemed a curious thing to say, but after puzzling it for a moment Fran shrugged. She would find her way around in time.
She had little time to look around, except to see that the building was exactly her idea of a traditional eastern palace. But the next moment they came to a lift. Rasheeda pressed a button and soon they were flying upwards.
They walked along another corridor, until they stopped outside a door, bearing the number 37, which she pushed open. Inside Fran found a luxurious apartment, opening onto a balcony. An archway led to an ornate bathroom, covered in elaborate mosaics. Dazed, she realised that every fitting was solid gold. Rasheeda followed her gaze.
‘You are much favoured,’ she said briefly. ‘I will summon your maidservants to prepare your bath now. You must be tired from your journey.’
‘I don’t seem to have my bag,’ Fran said. ‘Will it get here soon?’
‘You will not be needing it.’
‘But I will. All my things are in there.’
‘Everything you could possibly need is here. His Highness prefers that his concubines accept only from his hands.’
‘Excuse me? Did you say concubines? Look, there’s been some mistake. I’m not a concubine. I’m a journalist.’
‘I do not know what word you use in the west to describe such a woman as yourself.’
‘But didn’t Ali tell you-?’
‘His Highness,’ Rasheeda said, emphasising the words, ‘telephoned me from the plane, giving me precise instructions for your reception. I am his mistress of concubines. I have followed my master’s orders, and that is the end of the matter.’
‘It certainly is not,’ Fran said wrathfully. ‘Are you saying that he dared to put me with his-his-?’
‘It is a great honour for you,’ Rasheeda said coldly. ‘He will be most displeased at your ingratitude.’
‘He’s not the only one displeased,’ Fran said. ‘I’m going to see him now, and he’s going to hear about my displeasure.’
She ran to the door and tried to pull it open, but it stayed firmly shut.
‘Open this door at once,’ she raged.
‘His Highness’s orders are that you remain here,’ Rasheeda said firmly. ‘Until he can find the time for you.’
‘And just how long is that likely to be?’
‘How can I tell? A week? A month? He has important things to attend to first.’
‘Does he think he can get away with this?’
‘His Highness is all-powerful and does as he pleases.’
Fran cast her a look of fury and ran past her, out onto the balcony.
‘Help!’ she cried. ‘Help!’
She was four storeys up. Far below her stretched out a vast carpet of flowers and lawns. One or two men, presumably gardeners, glanced up at the sound of her voice, looked at each other, shrugged, and returned to their work.
Fran turned back into the room. The terrible truth was beginning to dawn on her. It was impossible, and yet, in her heart, she’d known that Ali was capable of anything, no matter how outrageous.
Rasheeda was standing beside the door.
‘I shall leave you now,’ she said, ‘and send your attendants when you are more composed.’
She opened the door and quickly retreated. Fran made a desperate run, but she was too far away. By the time she reached the door it was already closed and locked. She hammered at it frantically.
‘Let me out,’ she cried. ‘Let me out. You’ve got no right to do this!’
She listened, but there was only silence. She hammered again, harder this time.
‘Let me out!
There was no response. She was left alone as the full horror of her situation dawned on her.
Ali had never meant to give her an interview. To him she was merely a woman who had dared to outwit him, and must be taught a lesson. He had tricked her into coming here, and now she was his prisoner, friendless, alone, with nobody to hear her cries.
In this country where he was all-powerful he might wreak what vengeance he pleased on her, and there was nothing she could do about it.
CHAPTER FIVE
WHEN she’d calmed down a little Fran began to explore her surroundings. Clearly there was no escape from the balcony, but she might find some other way.
She investigated her bathroom which, at any other time, would have delighted her with its luxury. The bath was sunk into the floor, and the smooth marble was delicious to the touch.
The main room was also opulent, with lavish hangings and a large bed, covered with rich crimson brocade and thick cushions. There were several doors, but they all led to closets. The only way out was by the main door, which was firmly locked. Fran groaned to think how stupidly she’d walked, wide-eyed, into what anyone could have seen was a trap.
And yet how could she possibly have anticipated such an outrageous action? In the modern world people just didn’t do this kind of thing!
But Ali Ben Saleem wasn’t a modern man. He was a sovereign ruler with absolute power, and he felt free to do
