The Sheikh

Chloe smiled affectionately at her. Justine was bright and pretty, and always saying things she really didn’t mean, because she thought it was clever. It was fashionable to behave in the slightly outrageous way she did amongst her friends, and Chloe knew that her cousin wasn’t really wild at all underneath. She would fall in love, get married and live in a beautiful house in the country somewhere with occasional visits to town, and no doubt be very happy. Her parents spoiled her all the time, which was very nice. Chloe could have done with a little of that spoiling herself, but she knew she wasn’t likely to get it from her father.

He had always been a reserved man, but since her mother’s death he had withdrawn more and more into his own world, leaving Chloe to fend for herself. If it hadn’t been for Justine, of whom she was very fond, Chloe thought that she might have been rather lonely.

Her grandmother rarely left her home in the north of England these days, and her health was not good. She preferred not to have visitors, though she asked to see her granddaughter once a year, and remembered to send her a birthday card.

‘I expect you’ll like being married,’ she said to Justine. ‘When you find the right person.’

‘But don’t you want to marry?’ Justine looked at her curiously.

‘In time, I suppose—but not yet.’

Chloe wanted something more of life than her mother had had being Peter Randall’s wife. She knew that a life similar to that of her own or even Justine’s mother, who had a busy social schedule, would not suit her. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but an independent observer might have seen that she needed affection.

‘Smoking is all right if you like it,’ Chloe said as her cousin selected one from the box. ‘It makes me choke and I don’t enjoy the taste.’

‘Oh, well…the taste is something you get used to.’

Justine wasn’t going to admit that she only did it because her Bohemian friends said it was smart. She had to be a part of the crowd if she wanted to be invited to all the best parties. She looked at the magazine on her lap and sighed again.

‘Do you ever wonder what it would be like to meet a real Sheikh, Chloe? Would he be at all like Valentino, do you think?’

‘Lord, I shouldn’t think so for a moment,’ Chloe replied and giggled. She was giggling as much at her cousin, who was taking a delicate puff of smoke through her elegant cigarette holder, as at the suggestion, but she didn’t let Justine know that. ‘He would probably be fat, greasy and smell absolutely awful.’

‘Oh, don’t,’ Justine begged, tipping back her head in the manner of Gloria Swanson on screen. ‘Please don’t shatter my illusions. I’ll have you know I dream of meeting Valentino…I see him bending down to swoop me up in his arms and carry me off to his tent in the desert.’ She gave a delicious little shiver at the thought.

‘You and a million other women,’ Chloe said and smiled. She too had imagined herself in similar situations to those endured by the slave girl played by the actress Agnes Ayres, but in her heart she knew she wasn’t likely to meet someone who looked and behaved as the film star did on screen. ‘But I agree that it would be romantic to meet Rudolph Valentino… Just imagine if someone asked you to star with him in a film.’

‘Oh, I would die for the chance,’ Justine said and laughed. ‘I still think it would be romantic to be carried off by a Sheikh to his tent beneath the desert stars…’

‘You might not like it when you got there,’ Chloe said. ‘I think it would be better to stick to the film version—much safer.’

She had often thought how exciting it would be to act in a Hollywood film, and her mouth curved as she imagined being asked to play the slave girl in a film similar to The Sheikh. Of course it was just a silly dream, and she had never told anyone, even Justine, of her foolish thoughts.

‘Well, I shall have to be content with my library job until Prince Charming comes to sweep me off my feet,’ Justine said, shrugging her elegant shoulders. ‘At least you have an exciting holiday to look forward to.’

‘It isn’t just a holiday,’ Chloe said. ‘Professor Hicks is a dear, kind man, but I dare say he will expect me to work for my privileges.’

‘It’s a pity he’s so old,’ Justine said. She pulled a face of disappointment. ‘Older than your father. But you never know, you might meet someone exciting on your trip, Chloe. Perhaps he will be dark and handsome and carry you off to his casbah—’

‘I doubt that very much,’ Chloe said, but it didn’t stop her dreaming. In her heart she was as romantic as Justine, though she tried hard not to be. Her father had always told her to keep a clear mind on things and judge the situation before she made any decisions. Chloe knew that it was best not to dream or to expect too much, because that only led to disappointment.

‘Act on impulse and you may live to regret it,’ had been Mr Peter Randall’s maxim all his life. It was a very sensible, safe way to look at things, but could be a little dull, Chloe had discovered. Sometimes she thought it might be exciting to do something mad and totally irresponsible for once in her life.

‘Well, we can all dream,’ Justine said and got up to put on a new dance record she had bought. ‘Come on, Chloe—try this…’

Chloe jumped to her feet, laughing as Justine began to demonstrate one of the latest dance crazes. She was always trying something new, which was perhaps why Chloe found it fun to be with her.

‘Oh, I do wish you could come with us,’ she sighed. ‘But I suppose it’s no good wishing for the moon.’

‘Mummy would never agree anyway,’ Justine said. ‘She is determined to marry me off to someone very rich and very dull.’

Chloe shook her head. ‘Well, the very rich part wouldn’t be so bad, Justine. Poor Daddy has found it difficult to manage since the war. He invested in a company that failed and it reduced his income almost by half. That’s why I was so pleased to get a job almost straight away.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t mind the money,’ Justine agreed. ‘I can see myself in furs and jewels. Summer on the French Riviera and winter in Biarritz…’

‘Yes,’ Chloe agreed. ‘And if he has lots of it, Justine, perhaps he won’t be so very dull after all.’

It was all so exciting and glamorous, being seen off by her friends on board a luxury cruise ship. On deck the atmosphere was just like a big party, with champagne corks popping, people laughing and streamers flowing. Everyone seemed to have friends who had come to wish them ‘Bon Voyage’, and Chloe was pleased that her father and Justine had insisted on making the journey to Southampton with her.

She had noticed that most of the other guests on board seemed very wealthy, the women dressed in elegant clothes with furs draped over their shoulders, and the men quietly confident though often wearing sober suits. Perhaps that was why she noticed him almost immediately, because he stood out from the others. His suit was a light fawn colour and obviously expensive, and his shoes were handmade leather, his shirt the kind that came from Savile Row.

‘That’s the horn telling us it’s time to go ashore,’ Chloe’s father said and kissed her. ‘Take care of yourself, my dear. Have a good time and be as useful as you can to Charles. Above all, do as he tells you and behave yourself. I want to be proud of my daughter and it was very good of Charles to give you this job.’

‘Yes, of course, Daddy,’ Chloe said and hugged him. ‘Take care of yourself.’ He nodded and released himself firmly from her embrace.

‘I shall just go and say goodbye to Charles.’

‘Yes, you must.’

‘You girls must say your goodbyes quickly,’ Mr Randall warned as he went off, leaving them at the rails together.

‘Oh, damn,’ Justine said. ‘I suppose we shall have to go ashore.’ She pulled a face. ‘I do so wish I was coming with you.’ She kissed Chloe. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t—and don’t run off with a Sheikh!’ She threw out her arms dramatically as she spoke, accidentally striking a man standing just behind her.

‘Be careful, young woman!’

In her exuberance, Justine had knocked the man’s arm, causing him to jerk and spill champagne over his suit. It was the man Chloe had noticed earlier being seen off by a party of friends, all of whom were dressed as elegantly as he was, and one of them a rather beautiful young woman. He was glaring at Justine furiously, and she was clearly embarrassed, which made Chloe jump to her cousin’s defence.

‘It was rather foolish to bring your drink into a crowd like this, don’t you think?’ she said. ‘Justine didn’t mean any harm.’

‘No, of course not,’ Justine said and smiled at him winningly, her cheeks a fiery red. ‘I’m terribly sorry. I hope I haven’t done any real harm?’

‘The suit is probably ruined, but it is of no consequence,’ he said and turned away.

‘What a rude man!’ Chloe said as he moved further down the rail; the crowd was thinning out now as people began to leave. ‘It was his own fault for getting so close to you.’

‘I expected he wanted to wave to his friends on shore,’ Justine said. ‘Oh, lord, I must go or they will take me with you…’

They hugged and Justine ran off to join the last few stragglers going ashore. Chloe laughed as her friend held on to her hat and tried to wave all at the same time, then she turned to look for her travelling companions. Catching sight of Professor Hicks and his secretary, Miss Amelia Ramsbottom, she raised her arm to signal to them. As she did so, she heard a muffled exclamation and swung round to see that she had succeeded in tipping the remainder of that glass of champagne over the man Justine had upset earlier.

‘I see you are determined to ruin this suit,’ he said, and just for a moment she thought there was a glimmer of humour in his eyes. ‘Did I do something to annoy you?’

Chloe bit her lip. She was tempted to snap at him, but they were going to be on the same ship for a while and there was no point in creating an unpleasant atmosphere as they were bound to meet from time to time.

‘I am sorry,’ she said, trying for composure. ‘Can it be cleaned on board? I shall be happy to pay the bill.’

‘It is of no consequence,’ he repeated, but this time he smiled. Chloe realised that he was quite attractive when his features relaxed from the harshness they had assumed earlier. His hair was black, cut short and slicked back from his forehead, and his eyes were almost as dark as his hair. He spoke with a cultured English accent, but somehow she did not think he was entirely English. His features were too strong, too—would exotic be the right word? She wasn’t sure. He frowned at her. ‘Is there something wrong?’

Chloe realised that she had been staring and blushed. ‘No—forgive me. I must join my friends.’