Three Rivers (39 page)

She saw the semblance of a line forming to go through and then, towards the middle, she spotted a group of about twenty-five American drip-dry tourists with name
tags on them, all bunched together like cattle. She pushed the Nesbitts quickly and told them to move in with the others; it was their only chance to get out of there fast. She was sure that the tourist party would be passed through without a single case being opened. They were so typical that customs could not be bothered.

The Nesbitts considered her a world traveler and would have done anything that she told them to do. After passport clearance, they elbowed their way into the middle of the group. Since all American tourists in group tours look the same, even the people in the group thought the three belonged to them.

Sure enough, Kate the world traveler was correct. The customs men wanted their lunch and siesta and so pushed the whole group through with one wave of the hand. Not one piece of luggage was opened. Kate felt in control’ again. She gathered the Nesbitts and all her luggage, and at last they made their way to the ship’s officer who held a sign reading
Aphrodite
.

While a porter took all the luggage, off they went through the terminal to the car waiting outside. Just as they were approaching the exit doors, Kate grabbed the officer’s arm and announced she had to buy a postcard. He told her there were postcards on board ship, but she insisted she had to mail a postcard from the Cairo airport. He told her to wait right there, he would go with her, but first he had to put the Nesbitts in the car and see that the luggage was stored in the trunk. Kate dragged herself through the terminal with the young man helping her along. She could find no postcard and became hysterical. The young man promised that he would be sure that she had a postcard once she arrived in Alexandria. He would see to it himself; she must not be distressed; after all, it was only a postcard.

No, it was not
only
a postcard, Kate shrieked. If she did not have the postcard, then what was she doing there in the first place? No, she must find one. In the midst of her anxiety, she saw a young American girl leaning on her luggage writing postcards. Kate ran to her, and begged the girl to sell her one. The girl said she would be pleased to give her one.

It was a picture of a mummy stretched out on a marble slab. A three-thousand-year-old somebody whose name Kate could, not pronounce. It was not very attractive, a
body all wrapped up in those dirty old bandages, but it could not be helped. From what Kate could see of Egypt, it was not very pretty anyway.

With a horribly shaking hand she wrote: “Isabel, just passing through Cairo. Didn’t have time to call you. Am with friends, we find Egypt fascinating. Not nearly as hot as you said it was. Must go now, the boat is waiting. Having a wonderful time, hope you are. You can write care of the ship, New York. Love you, Mother.”

She gave the girl a dollar and said that she was not feeling at all well, would she do an old lady a kindness and put it in the postbox over there since it already had a stamp on it. The young girl refused the dollar bill and said she would be glad to post it, but when the girl took the card Kate panicked. She did not think that the girl looked very responsible, and so grabbed the postcard from her, saying, “Never mind, dear. I will post it myself.”

There were protests from the ship’s officer as well as the young girl, but Kate ignored them and struck out to the far side of the terminal and the postbox. They watched her push her way to the box and back again to where they were standing.

Kate was an exhausted, nervous mess, but triumphant. She thanked the girl again for the card, and when the young lady made an effort to give Kate back the dollar bill, Kate said, “Never mind, kid, you keep it, buy yourself a soda,” and grabbed the officer’s arm. He rushed her along to the waiting car and the wilting Nesbitts.

She sat in the front seat with the driver as they headed towards Heliopolis and Cairo. The plan was to drive through the heart of Cairo, pointing out a few sights
en route
, then on to Giza and the Pyramids. It would have to be a quick look in order to make the rendezvous with the Nile cruise boat sailing down through the delta, to Alexandria. They would not leave without Kate on board, and with that obligation in mind, the young Greek officer from the
Aphrodite
was doing his best for them. Laboriously, but with charm, he recited to them from a small guide book. The weary, exhausted senior citizens could not have cared less. They did not know what they were doing there in the first place, and each wished silently that he or she had had the courage to stay at home.

The first great Pharaonic statue that they saw was the
Ramses II
, surrounded by its fountains. The heat and dirt of the city impressed themselves on the trio much more than any old
Ramses II
did. The car weaved, swerved, shot in and out and kept pushing through the traffic at top speed. The Egyptian Museum was pointed out to them from the outside, but the car never stopped, and who wanted it to anyway? They passed by the Nile Hilton and even that looked shopworn. On they went along the Corniche, through Garden City. Kate thought it began to look a bit better. It was more green, maybe even a bit more cool. The many parks and flowers made it look a little less dirty. There were grand-looking residences and not many people on the streets now.

They crossed the Sayala Bridge to Roda Island, and soon after they passed by a large, beautiful, walled-in estate, set in a vast, tropical, romantic garden. Kate leaned out of the window and tried to catch a breath of air, but there was just plain, dead heat, not at all refreshing. She pulled her head in just in time to escape decapitation by a plum-colored Rolls Royce passing them. She saw a driver in the front seat and a very handsome man sitting in the back. There was hardly any traffic on the road and they followed behind the Rolls until it slowed down and took a left in through a pair of huge open gates. As the car passed they saw several servants pushing the gates closed after it. Kate strained herself to lean out of the window, trying to see more.

The young ship’s officer told them that it was a small private palace; a museum that was open to the public a few days a week when the owner was not in residence. Maybe they were lucky and had just seen him.

Big deal, thought Kate. What could that man ever do for me?

The young officer kept reading from his little tourist book about the house and its history. Kate could not be bothered to listen and so missed the owner’s name — Sir Alexis Hyatt.

Their car left it all far behind as it crossed over the El Gama’s Bridge. Now the young man was terribly excited; he wanted them to look at the beautiful feluccas sailing up and down the Nile. They were crossing the longest river in the world. Kate barely looked at it. She reached in her handbag for another whiff of smelling salts. She
sniffed deeply, choked a bit, then pulled herself together and seemed more revived.

As she passed the little oval bottle of lavender salts to Mrs. Nesbitt, she thought about the handsome man in the plum-colored Rolls Royce going into what looked like a Garden of Eden. It was all too unreal, a bit like the Arabian Nights with dirt. She thought about him, and her mind wandered to what kind of a wife a man like that would have. She would be a beautiful young girl, you could be sure. A twenty-year-old at the most. Isabel would never find a man like that. She was too old and much too worldly. Poor Isabel! Well, she should have found herself a good husband when she was young. A man like the one that Kate just saw does not give diamonds. Ugh, how stupid Isabel was.

They made a left turn off the bridge and went up the Sharia el Nil. Riding alongside the Nile, Kate looked down and saw a huge, beautiful felucca. There were many servants and seamen on the deck, and she could see that it was being loaded. It was getting ready for a trip. She saw two dogs that reminded her of Isabel’s nasty pets, lying in the shade of a box on the deck, and supplies disappearing into the hold below. Just as their car passed the stern of the boat, she saw a beautiful striped canopy, something like a wedding
huppah
, she thought. A servant was wrapping the poles of the canopy in garlands of green leaves. She saw more action going on in that one boat than she had seen anywhere since she landed in Egypt. If she had turned around to watch she would have seen the last of the loading, the small gangplank taken away, the sails catch the tiny, hot wind and her daughter Isabel’s wedding felucca sail for Memphis. But she did not turn around to look.

No one had spoken in the car for quite some time, as they were all too exhausted. The car continued straight up along the Nile to another section called Imbaba. Just before they came to the Imbaba Bridge, the car stopped. Down below, the Nile cruise boat waited for Kate Wells.

XII

When the plum-colored Rolls Royce had passed the car near the entrance to Alexis’s house on Roda Island, nearly decapitating some foolish tourist hanging out the window, Alexis had been thinking about Isabel, whom he loved more than he ever had dreamt possible. The new dimension that she added to his life left him in awe at the wonder of being alive.

The night before, when the plane had arrived from Athens, he had not been there to meet it. Isabel and Alexander had gone straight from the airport to the house, which had been all lit up and made ready for them. While Isabel was getting settled into the Roda Island house, Alexis was in his study at Sharia el Nil working very hard on all the arrangements for their marriage on Tuesday.

That Sunday night he had met Isabel and Alexander for a light supper. Alexander had told Alexis about the unfortunate luncheon in Athens. There was almost no need for Alexis to be told. He’d had a feeling when he heard Mrs. Wells’s voice, that nothing good would come from Isabel’s effort to share her joy with those two women.

Alexander left soon after supper and was driven to the Sharia el Nil house, where he was staying. Alexis and Isabel saw him off in the car and then walked through the gardens together.

It was extremely hot even at that time of night. The two said very little to each other. Somewhere deep in the garden, with the night sounds playing for them, the heavy heat and the scent of jasmine and roses, new mown grass and lilies, he took her in his arms and kissed her.

She was wearing a white, wide-pleated silk dress with shoestring straps. It was tied at the waist with a soft silk sash of the same color and material. She also wore the
scarab necklace, his first gift to her, and her diamond rings, his latest gift to her.

The lights from the house lit up the patch of open grass where they stood. She stood on tiptoe in her white, high-heeled sandals and started kissing the top of his forehead, down over his face, to his mouth. She unbuttoned his shirt and sucked on his nipples while he undid his trousers and dropped them, then slipped off his shirt. She bent low and slowly removed his underpants, rubbing her face over his stiff cock. She opened her mouth and ran her tongue over, and then up and down along the underpart of it. Taking his delicious balls in her mouth, she rolled them around, making them all wet.

He untied her belt and pulled the fine silk dress over the top of her head. Down they went onto the sweet-smelling grass. She lay over him with her face between his legs and sucked on him as tenderly, as lovingly, as sensually as possible. He played with her clitoris and put his tongue deep inside her. She kept coming with strong orgasms, and then they came together with an equally high intensity.

They lay in the grass. The coolness of the earth beneath them was yet another sensuous natural carpet for them to experience. He stroked her hair and kissed her. She told him, as he held her, that there was never a moment in the day when she was not ready for him, when she did not want him, when she did not want to make love to him. The tears ran from her eyes, and she wept, not from sorrow or joy, but simply from the relief that all the years without him were over.

He was sitting up in the grass, and when she told him that, he was so moved that he picked her up and, putting her on his naked lap, rocked her and told her that she was the most wonderful woman he had ever known and that they would spend the rest of their lives with no less desire than they had for each other at that moment. And in her heart she knew that he was right.

He pinched her playfully and said, “Let’s go for a swim.”

They grabbed their clothes and walked naked to the pool. They swam together. He loved the way her wet skin glistened, and he made love to her again in the water. They slipped on the terrycloth robes that were lying there waiting for them and walked to the other side of the garden to the love pavilion.

Gamal was there waiting. A hookah was lit and they smoked the best Lebanese gold. They were very high when Alexis told Gamal they would spend the night there, and for him to wake them in the morning.

The two of them spoke of their plans and the wedding. He told her all was well for them; they would be married at five in the afternoon, on Tuesday.

He found her wet and ready, wanting him again. He kissed her and played with her nipples and told her that before the evening was out, she would come many times from different sensations and one that she had never known before. They found different, exciting positions and things to do to each other. Undreamt-of fantasies were created, and it was all sublime. They never stopped until they were utterly spent.

Holding her in his arms, he saw that she was asleep. With a soft wet cloth smelling of orange blossoms, he washed them both clean. She did not wake and he held her in his arms. Eventually he dozed off.

When he woke in the morning, it was to the sound of the birds and Isabel riding his morning erection, her tits moving over his face. He had no idea how long she had been doing it, but he could not hold back one moment more and sucked on her nipple as he shot high up into her. They rolled over on their sides, and he said, “Good morning. It is Monday and I am going to marry you tomorrow.”

After that they put their robes on and went for a swim. They had breakfast at the pool and talked about their plans for the day and some details about the wedding.

Isabel knew what she would wear but refused to tell him.

“All right,” he said. “I have a surprise for you as well.”

Isabel told him that she would like to stay on the grounds of the Roda house and get herself and her things together, maybe even work on her latest novel.

It seemed like a fine idea. They would part for the day, and he would work at the Sharia el Nil house, have lunch with his mother and bring her back to Isabel for tea.

Suddenly Alexis looked embarrassed about something and Isabel sensed it at once, asking him what was wrong. Well, he hoped she did not think him a fool, but after he took his mother back home, he would like to return to her with Alexander for an early dinner and leave her before midnight. He was in fact superstitious about seeing her on the day of their wedding, before the ceremony. They
laughed about it and agreed not to see each other after midnight until she was brought to his boat by Alexander.

Isabel made it clear that she thought he and Alexander were going to have a stag party in a whorehouse. Alexis said yes, they certainly were. He asked her if she wanted him to send her a few men for her last night as a
bachelor lady
. She said that she would think about it and let him know what she wanted for the evening.

Isabel was delighted with all the plans, and one of the main reasons was that the less they were seen together, the less chance there was of people finding out about their marriage and their being caught up in a mountain of good-wishes. This was to be their own personal matter, and they wanted to keep it just that way.

She also thought it extremely sensitive and touching of Alexis not to include too much of his mother in their plans. She knew it was so as not to embarrass her about the absence of her own family.

Late that afternoon Alexis rejoined Isabel, and they walked together to the pavilion where they were to have tea. They saw the tiny, slight figure of Madame Hyatt playing with the tame white doves. Gamal and her personal servant, Abdul, stood close by with baskets of feed for them. Madame Hyatt loved her son Alexis beyond measure but never had imposed her wishes on him. All the same, she was overjoyed that he had found love in this woman, Isabel Wells. The very first time they had met, Madame Hyatt knew that her son would be happy with Isabel. Yet she had refrained from mentioning it to Alexis, wisely letting nature take its course.

The three kissed and Madame Hyatt thanked them for asking her to tea. They sat on the cushions and Isabel told her about what she had been doing to get ready for her wedding trip. Madame Hyatt told Isabel to call on her if she needed the least little thing. Isabel said that she thought she had everything under control.

She spoke of the dress she would wear to the ceremony, one that she had never worn before. She told how she had seen it in Paris and, feeling extremely extravagant, had gone in and bought it. Now, at last, she had no need to feel guilty about the dress.

The only thing that she had not worked out was how to get her hair done without appearing at the Hilton salon.
Madame Hyatt said that was easy, she would handle it and what time did Isabel want her hairdresser there?

That settled, Isabel said, “How wonderful! Now I have nothing to worry about.” She was quite sure that between Juju, Maryka, Doreya, Gamal — not to mention Alexander — she would make it to the altar. She told Madame Hyatt that it was more help than she had ever had in her life and that she felt like a princess.

Madame Hyatt answered her by saying, “In another time, Isabel, you would have carried that title.” She smiled as her man and Gamal brought in the tea.

The two men carried in a magnificent table decorated with full-blown garden roses of various colors. There were ornate silver baskets and pedestal dishes filled with cakes, small sandwiches and sweets. The silver tea service was French baroque silver of the finest and rarest quality, and the cups and saucers were
Sèvres
, once belonging to the Empress Josephine.

Isabel was comfortable and aware that Alexis’s mother not only approved of her, but meant her to be happy as well. She felt a moment of embarrassment for the way her own family had behaved.

At one point during the tea party, Madame Hyatt called her servant and whispered something in his ear. When Abdul returned, he carried with him a large parcel. It was obvious by its shape that it was a framed painting. It was her gift to Alexis.

A second servant handed a box to Madame Hyatt which she gave to Isabel, telling her that it was her wedding present. She wanted Isabel to know how much she welcomed her to the family, and explained that the gift was something that had been in their family for a very long time. She had never been prepared to hand it down to anyone until this very day.

Isabel, deeply touched, kissed her warmly in thanks. Both she and Alexis wanted to share the opening of the gifts with Madame Hyatt and finally won her approval to do so. Alexis opened his first.

It was an oil painting by Modigliani entitled
Reclining Nude
. He had fallen in love with it from the very first day that he saw it. It was a superb example of the artist’s work. He was overwhelmed by his mother’s generosity in parting with it and told her that it would indeed sail with them up the Nile. He would hang it in their bedroom on
board the boat. He thanked his mother and kissed her hand.

Isabel thought it wonderful. She had never seen it before, except when it was once photographed for a book. She was delighted for Alexis, who went to her and said, “Now let’s see what Mama has given you.”

Isabel first removed the white roses and stephanotis from the parcel, then the white satin bow and at last the paper. It was a royal-blue velvet jeweler’s box of considerable size. Isabel, very excited, suddenly flushed with embarrassment, and Alexis wondered what was going through her mind but was too sensitive to ask. He was sure that she was thinking of her family and thought that his mother’s generosity and kindness were a sad contrast to how her own mother had behaved. He put his arm around her and kissed her, saying, “Shall we open it together?” She was near to tears as she looked up and said, “Yes, please, let’s.”

They lifted the lid of the large velvet box, and there, lying on the molded velvet interior was a magnificent rope of blue-white diamonds. The rope itself was made of platinum, and each diamond set into the rope was round, weighing about four carats. The length of the rope must have been about thirty inches. It was so brilliantly crafted that all one could see were the diamonds, and when Isabel slipped it over her head it lay on her neck and across her breast. Alexis lifted the empty interior of the velvet box. He had seen his mother wear these jewels all of his life, so he knew that there was something else inside. He handed the box to Isabel, who gasped in astonishment. There was a second rope of yellow diamonds set in pure gold. It was the same length as the first. He put them over her head and arranged them on her breasts and kissed her.

“Now, darling,” he said, “you lift that second empty tray; there is still another one.”

She could hardly believe it possible, but she did lift the empty tray, and there was the third necklace: a platinum rope again, but this time the diamonds were pale pink. When the three strands of diamonds were around her neck, their beauty was dazzling. She held them in her hands and watched them sparkle with the mixture of their colors.

Madame Hyatt told her how lovely she looked in them and how proud she was to pass them on to her. Isabel
was told about them, for they were famous the world over. Called the Saladin Diamonds, they had been passed on down through Madame Hyatt’s family through the ages. They were worn originally by the great Saladin himself and then given to his favorite concubine, who later became his favorite wife. The necklaces had traveled to many exhibitions around the world but had never been imitated.

Such a rare and historical gift left Isabel speechless. In her wildest dreams she could never have imagined such opulence, such treasures to be part of her life. One of the servants had brought a large hand mirror for her to see herself in, and now she stood and looked at the Saladin Diamonds around her neck.

She went and sat next to Madame Hyatt and, with a break in her voice that she could not hide, thanked the elderly woman for accepting her into the family, for giving birth to such a son and for such generosity of spirit.

“Spoken like a princess,” Alexis laughed.

Isabel kept the necklaces on all through tea and was surprised at how easy it was to wear them. How nonchalant one can be with treasures when they belong to you, she thought.

After tea they walked Madame Hyatt to her car. She wished them happiness, said that she would see them on their return, and hoped that God would be with them.