The Cult of Osiris

‘Some things are true in life as well as in cards.’ He gestured to the dealer to set up the next game.

‘Ay up,’ said a gruff Yorkshire voice behind her. Several fifty-euro notes were tossed on to the table. ‘Can anyone play?’

Nina looked round. ‘Eddie!’ she cried, delighted - before remembering that she ought to be anything but. Hoping her outburst had been taken as surprise, she put on a strident, angry tone. ‘What the hell are you doing here, you son of a bitch?’

He blinked, bewildered. ‘Eh?’

‘After what you said to me in Paris?’ She stood, getting in his face. ‘You can go to hell, you sanctimonious bastard.’

A look of deep hurt replaced confusion . . . before he finally remembered that Nina’s plan required her to play a role, which meant he had to do the same. ‘There’s, er, there’s no way I’m going to let you go. Nobody walks out on me. Nobody!’

A tip of Osir’s head told his bodyguards to close in. He stared at Eddie with a look of vague recognition. ‘Who is this . . . gentleman, Nina?’

‘My husband,’ Nina growled. ‘My ex-husband, before too long.’

‘Eddie Chase,’ Eddie said to Osir. ‘I already know who you are.’

The look crystallised. ‘From the Osirian Temple in Paris. Of course.’

Shaban and Diamondback hurried over. ‘Khalid!’ Shaban hissed, leaning close to his brother. ‘I told you we couldn’t trust her!’

‘I don’t want him here any more than you do,’ said Nina.

Diamondback advanced. ‘Then maybe we should see him offa the premises.’

Osir smiled as he raised a hand. ‘No, no. Mr Chase wanted to play blackjack, and I would never deny any man that pleasure.’ He gestured to the chair on Nina’s other side. The man sitting there quickly stood and moved away. ‘Please, take a seat.’

‘Khalid, can’t you just get rid of him?’ Nina complained.

‘It would be rude to throw him out after he’s come all this way.’ As Eddie took the offered seat, Osir watched him closely. ‘Besides, I’m very interested in finding out what kind of man can claim your heart.’

‘Try anything with her and you’ll find out,’ said Eddie.

Nina sighed theatrically. ‘Eddie, you’re just embarrassing yourself. I said I don’t want to see you, so why can’t you just leave it at that?’

‘ ’Cause you’re my wife, and you’re supposed to do what I tell you. Love, honour, obey, remember?’ She jabbed his ankle with the pointed toe of her shoe; he nudged her to remind her to play along. ‘So,’ he said as he received his chips, ‘we going to play some pontoon, or what?’

‘The bet is fifty euros, minimum.’ Osir nodded to the dealer, who began passing out cards.

‘Actually,’ said Eddie, ‘this is all a bit James Bondy, innit? Having a game of cards with the mastermind.’ He looked up at Shaban and Diamondback. ‘Henchmen hanging around . . .’

‘My brother is hardly a henchman,’ Osir replied amiably, checking his cards. A king and a four; fourteen points. The dealer’s visible card was a ten. ‘Hit me.’ A six. ‘Stand.’

Nina had a three and a five. ‘Hit me,’ she said, repeating the command after getting another five. The fourth card was a seven. ‘Stand.’

Now it was Eddie’s turn, starting with a jack and a six. ‘Hit me.’ Another six. ‘Oh, cock.’

The remaining player also bust. The dealer turned up his hole card: a seven. Blackjack rules forced him to stand on seventeen, meaning Nina and Osir both won their bets. ‘Perhaps blackjack isn’t your game, Mr Chase,’ Osir said smugly.

‘That was just my warm-up round.’ Another hand began, Eddie again going bust on his third card. ‘Bollocks!’

Osir laughed. ‘Not so much James Bond as Austin Powers, hmm?’

‘Third time lucky.’ Another hand. ‘In the name of arse!’

‘I really think you should quit,’ Nina said through her teeth, having the awful feeling that a chunk of their rent money was disappearing with each round.

‘I’m just getting started.’

‘Yeah, at losing!’

Eddie’s next two cards were an ace and a queen: blackjack. He grinned. ‘I don’t think you can lose with twenty-one.’

The dealer also scored a natural blackjack. ‘Oi, wait, what?’ Eddie objected as his chips were whisked away to one side. ‘That was a draw!’

‘You should have made an insurance bet,’ said Osir, unconcerned about losing the round. ‘Now you have a push - your bet carries over to the next hand.’

‘I knew that,’ Eddie said after an awkward pause. The next round began, only for him to bust again. ‘Buggeration and fuckery!’ He looked at the empty space where his small pile of chips had been, then at Osir’s multiple stacks. ‘You couldn’t do me a favour, could you?’

‘I already have,’ Osir said, with meaning. He looked round as the string quartet started a new tune. ‘Ah! A tango!’ He stood, holding out a hand to Nina. ‘Would you join me?’

She froze; not because of Osir’s offer itself, but at the memories of social embarrassment it brought back. ‘I, ah, I can’t dance the tango. I can’t dance the anything.’

‘No need to worry,’ he said firmly. ‘I lead; all you have to do is follow.’ Before she could protest, he led her to the dance floor.

Eddie got up, only to have two of Osir’s goons block his way. ‘Hey! I want to talk to you, Nina!’

She got his message, returning one of her own. ‘It’ll have to wait!’

Despite how ridiculous she knew she was being - there were far weightier matters for her to worry about - Nina became more self-conscious than ever when she saw that the other dancing couples had bailed out. And with Osir being the host of the party, attention would be even more focused on him and his partner. ‘Y’know, if they played the conga, I could just about manage that.’

‘Trust me,’ he said. He brought her to the centre of the floor, one arm tight round her waist while the other held her outstretched hand. ‘Just look into my eyes, and your body will follow.’

And with that, they were moving.

Nina barely held in a startled yelp as Osir whisked her across the floor. ‘Oh, God,’ she gasped, struggling to keep her legs even vaguely in step with his. About the only positive thing was that her long dress concealed the worst of her uncoordinated footwork. ‘I can’t do this!’

‘Such negativity! I’m surprised,’ Osir said, eyes fixed on hers. ‘After everything you’ve achieved, you’re afraid of a simple dance?’

‘No, I’m afraid of making an ass of myself !’

He laughed. ‘Why? Is the opinion of these people you don’t even know important to you? Could anything they say be worse than what you’ve endured in the past months?’

‘The bloke’s got a point,’ said Eddie, quick-stepping alongside them. ‘And I kept telling you the same thing, so we can’t both be wrong.’ He slid a hand between Nina and Osir. ‘Mind if I cut in?’

‘By all means,’ said the Egyptian, smoothly releasing Nina and stepping back.

Shaban rushed up beside him. ‘They are working together. I told you!’

Osir shook his head, his smile infuriating his brother. ‘Let’s see what happens.’

‘Eddie, what are you doing?’ Nina whispered as he took hold of her. ‘You can’t dance!’

‘Says who?’ He glanced at the quartet before looking back into her eyes. ‘ “Por Una Cabeza” - a tango. Doddle.’

‘What? Since when - aah!’ He set off in step with the music, carrying her with him. To her amazement, he seemed to know what he was doing. ‘When did you learn how to dance? You can’t stand even being in the same room when Dancing With The Stars is on!’

‘You know those mornings I was with Amy?’

‘Amy?’ Nina frowned, then tried to push away. ‘That cop?’

‘Hey, hey!’ he hissed, holding her. ‘She was having dancing lessons, and I went with her.’