Double Danger (8 page)

‘Gosh, look at it,’ Jessica complained to Brian after she bought one. ‘It’s so depressing having to be all in black like this. It’s bad enough to be covered up.’

‘Well, you’d better wear it, darling, unless you want to be arrested and even whipped. Once in Saudi we’re beyond the protection of our own government. We’re totally subject to Saudi Islamic law.’

Another thing Jessica railed against was the fact that women weren’t allowed to go anywhere outside the compound on their own. They always had to be accompanied by a man.

‘Oh, and another thing,’ Brian said, ‘when we go visiting one of my Arab friends, you’ll be kept separate in another room. But don’t worry, you’ll still be made welcome by the women.’

Jessica rolled her eyes. ‘Talk about discrimination!’

‘Oh, there’s lots of restrictions on men as well.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, I’ve got to remove my shoes before entering any place I’m visiting. And, most important, I’ve always to remember to eat with my right hand. Even if I was left-handed, I’d still have to use only my right hand. The left hand is considered unclean. You mustn’t even gesticulate with your left hand. Oh, and you must never show an Arab the soles of your feet. That’s considered offensive.’

‘Sounds a whole lot of daft nonsense to me.’

‘It’s their customs and while we’re living in their country, I think it’s only fair to try to respect their ways.’

‘OK. OK. Fair enough, but I just wish they’d respect our ways in our country.’

‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed but a traditional Saudi greeting between men is each grasping the other’s right hand, placing the left hand on the other’s right shoulder and exchanging kisses on each other’s cheek. Everything’s done closer together here, even just talking, and it can be insulting to draw back.’

‘I’ve noticed all right. Fancy if they acted like that in the Calton. Can you imagine? The mind boggles!’

Brian laughed. ‘What worries me is having to keep someone from the Calton like you in the background. I don’t know how I’m going to keep you under control.’

Jessica gave him a mock punch. ‘Don’t even try.’

But of course they were both forced to obey the rules. Even inside the compound, despite the heat of the desert, Brian had to wear clothes that covered his body – no shorts or short-sleeved shirts were ever allowed. Jessica had to wear high necklines and sleeves reaching at least to the elbow. Hem lines had preferably to be ankle length. Soon strolling around the compound and lazing about on the veranda all day became boring. The children were at school or being supervised by the teachers in after-school recreational activities and so were away from the villa the whole day. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she could have busied herself with cooking and housework, but the Indian houseboy always rushed to do everything. He considered it an insult if she tried to do anything around the house.

Thankfully, she managed to find a part-time job helping in one of the cafés. The café offered everything from coffee and cakes to a cooked meal. She only helped clear the tables and fill the dish-washing machine and so she had plenty of opportunity to have a chat and laugh with the others who worked in the café and with the customers as well. They all exchanged stories about where they’d come from and what they’d done before arriving in Saudi. They all agreed it was a wonderful life. Except for the terrorist raids, of course, but they had always happened at night and were quickly fought off by the Saudi guards. The raids were so infrequent that they didn’t really impinge on daily routine.

‘You’ll soon get used to the raids,’ they told her. It was hard to believe at first but it had worked out exactly as they’d said.

She and Brian would be sitting watching television, or later, reading in bed when the siren would go. They would get up, lift the soundly sleeping Tommy and Fiona and go with them into the panic room, where there were beds to lie on. Eventually, they’d hear two blasts of the siren which meant everything was safely over and the steel wall of the panic room would be raised. It was an inconvenience more than anything else, and it didn’t happen all that often.

No, the worst inconvenience was not being able to share the generous hospitality that Brian always received from his Arab friends. That is, to share it with him. Today he had been invited to the house of Faiz.

‘I’m treated like a king,’ Brian told her when they neared the house of Faiz. ‘Nobody in the world is as kind and hospitable as the Arabs. That room at the front of the house is a typical meeting room and has cushions all around the floor to sit on. These meeting rooms are called majalis. I never meet any of the female members of the family – only brothers and uncles and male cousins. Guests come and go all the time in the majalis.’

‘Where will I go then?’ Jessica asked.

‘You go round the back. Don’t worry, one of the women will be waiting for you and will take you in to meet all the other women in the family. They’ll probably treat you like a queen. But for God’s sake, watch what you say. Saving face, avoidance of shame and keeping dignity are vital to Saudis.’

‘Why on earth would I want to shame them?’

‘You wouldn’t mean to, Jessica. You’d just think you were kidding. But they don’t understand that. So just try and keep your mouth shut. That’ll be the safest way.’

‘For God’s sake,’ Jessica gasped impatiently. ‘What a carry on!’

‘You’ll get used to it. Just relax and enjoy the tasty titbits they’ll feed you with.’

‘As if I’m a rabbit or something? What about my dignity?’

‘Darling, we can have a fight once we’re back home, but please, not here.’

They didn’t fight, though. On the way home, she was so taken up with the novelty of her experiences that she forgot about the fight. The camels strolling across the road for instance, with slow dignity, their large feet causing small puffs of dust as they slapped down. Then there were the roundabouts in the desert.

‘Look at that one,’ Brian said. ‘The Arabs like to do everything in a big way. Have you ever seen anything like that in your life?’

Around the city of Tabuk were these roundabouts with gigantic structures in the centre. The one Brian was pointing at had a huge aircraft balanced high on top of it. Then there was one with a tank perched on it.

‘All very military-looking, though,’ Jessica said.

Brian shrugged. ‘It’s got an interesting history. There’s an ancient mosque where the prophet Mohammed prayed for twenty days.’

Back in the compound they collected Tommy and Fiona from the supervised playpark where most of the children, including Tommy and Fiona, were enjoying riding about on scooters and bikes. They all went for a swim to cool off and afterwards had a meal in one of the dining halls. Then they went to the post office to see if there was any mail for them to collect. They also had a look at the noticeboards for details about all the clubs, events and company notices.

There was no mail for Jessica but an official-looking letter for Brian.

‘Good God!’

‘What’s up? Not bad news, I hope,’ Jessica said.

‘On the contrary. A distant relation of my father’s has left me a house and quite a bit of land on the Campsie Hills.’

‘Gosh! Will that be near Vale of Lennox? I know a lot of folk there – including Mrs Mellors, of course.’

‘No, it must be a good bit further up than that. I’ve never seen it even with all the walking I’ve done in the area.’

‘Gosh! What are you going to do about it?’

Brian shrugged. ‘I suppose we’d better go and have a look at it on my next leave.’

‘You could sell it and get a lot of money for it if it’s a big place with a lot of land.’

Brian laughed. ‘Trust you to think like that.’

‘Well, what else is there?’

‘I’ll have to retire eventually. It might be a good place to retire to.’

‘But that’s years yet, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, but according to this letter, there’s a housekeeper and a handyman living in the house. They could continue living there and looking after the place until I retire.’

‘You could maybe even rent it out for a few years.’

‘Darling, it’s not a question of money. I’ve an enormous salary here. I don’t need any extra money.’

‘Gosh, there can’t be many folk like you going around. You’re the only one I’ve ever met, anyway.’

‘Well, I’ve been earning this salary for quite a few years and there’s so many perks and freebies. Also there’s very little you can spend money on here. So money piles up in the bank.’

‘Nice work if you can get it.’

‘And I’ve got it.’

‘So we’ll at least go and look at this place in the Campsies?’

‘Definitely. On my next leave.’

Jessica did one of her excited little dances and clapped her hands.

‘I’ll really look forward to that. It’ll be a great adventure.’

Brian’s voice took on a tone of mock drama. ‘A journey into the unknown.’

They left the children with Mrs Mellors in Vale of Lennox and started driving towards Hilltop House, at the other side of the Campsies. Eventually, however, they were forced to abandon the car and started walking, or climbing to be more accurate. It wasn’t that the terrain was too steep for the car. The place was so overgrown with huge rhododendrons and laurels fighting for space with broom and bracken, such a dark jungle, that it blocked out the sun. They had to fight their way through climbing plants that had grown completely out of control, like the ivy underfoot that they kept sinking into or tripping over. Other spiky high climbing plants crushed together, creating a sinister atmosphere. There were huge trees blocking their path too. The soft gurgling sound warned of a small waterfall almost hidden by plants and shrubs.

‘The first thing we’ll have to do here,’ Brian said, ‘is get a landscape gardener to clear the place and make something decent of it.’

‘I can’t imagine what on earth could be done to make all this look decent.’

‘That’s their job. They have the imagination. They do this sort of thing all the time – transform estates.’

‘OK. OK. I’ll believe you.’

Suddenly Brian cried out, ‘There it is. God, what a place!’

A large black edifice reared up above the trees.

Jessica shuddered. ‘Real creepy!’

‘Stop worrying. We could make it really beautiful and impressive. If we got the house painted and the land cleared, it would be a place to be proud of.’

‘And feel happy and at home in?’ Jessica asked sarcastically.

‘Yes. We’re very lucky to have received such a legacy. And Jessica, if it suits you better, think of it as a huge money bonus. This place could be worth a fortune, especially with so much land. But wait a minute. I’ve just had another idea. We could eventually make it into a hotel. That would be a great investment, a continuous income for us.’

Jessica’s voice acquired a more interested and cheerful tone.

‘Right enough. All sorts of people would come from all over, I bet. I’d enjoy all the company.’

‘Yes, think of it as an investment.’

At least there was a little clearing around the house and they climbed the couple of steps at the front and rang the bell. It clanged and echoed loudly through the jungle hush.

A tall, large-busted woman answered.

‘You must be Mr and Mrs Anderson, the new owners,’ she greeted them. ‘Welcome to Hilltop House. I’m Mrs Peterson, the housekeeper.’

They followed her inside. There they stopped to stare in astonishment at walls festooned with antlers and dead animals’ heads and skins. Even a tiger skin stretched across one area. The wood panelling was almost black with age.

Mrs Peterson explained, ‘The late Mr Nairn used to travel abroad on shooting expeditions and had lots of shooting parties here too. He wasn’t fit enough to enjoy them towards the end. The last one was with pheasants that he reared and the guests stayed here for a few days during their shoot. Will you be doing the same, Mr Anderson?’

Jessica answered before Brian could draw his breath.

‘No way! Fancy enjoying killing poor animals. I’ve never heard the like of it in my life. No way!’

‘Mr Anderson?’ Mrs Peterson repeated in a cooler tone.

Brian treated her to one of his most charming smiles.

‘Please forgive my wife, Mrs Peterson. She’s always had a soft-hearted and impulsive nature. But no, I don’t think we’re likely to go in for the shooting business. I have a different career.’

‘I see. Follow me and I’ll show you around the house. We’ll start from the lower floor.’

They all descended a staircase and came to a lower level. A long corridor had several doors leading off from it. Mrs Peterson opened the nearest one to reveal a large stone-flagged kitchen. A man was sitting at a wooden table in the centre of the room. He rose and Mrs Peterson said, ‘This is my husband, Geordie. He acts as a handyman doing odd jobs around the house. It’s a big place and it entails a great deal of work.’

‘It must do,’ Brian agreed, ‘and would you and Mr Peterson …’

‘Geordie,’ the man interrupted as they shook hands.

‘Geordie,’ Brian corrected himself, ‘agree to go on living and working at Hilltop House even though my wife and I would not be able to settle here for some considerable time?’

‘Certainly,’ Mrs Peterson said. ‘This is obviously the kitchen. The other doors along the corridor lead into the staff living quarters. Upstairs …’ She led them out again, ‘is the main hall that you’ve seen and along here is the dining room.’

She opened a door to the left of the hall stairway to reveal a large room with a long table and a sideboard groaning under the weight of many bottles of wine and spirits.

‘On the next floor is the sitting room, or drawing room.’

They followed the tall stiff-backed woman up the staircase with the ornate carved banisters to another equally shadowy landing.

The room was huge and furnished with floral padded suites and antique-looking chairs that Jessica said afterwards she had been far too nervous to sit on. The windows looked out on to the jungle.

Brian said, ‘By the way, we have friends in Vale of Lennox and so we’re staying there this time. I’ve got a couple of months’ leave and I think the first thing I must do while I’m here is to try and find a good landscape gardener. Do you happen to know of one?’