Virtually Perfect (27 page)

Aziz seemed a bit subdued.  The Prince had given him a light-hearted ticking off.  Actually, it was more Ben's fault.  He'd taken the jacket and tie advice a little too far.  He'd dressed on autopilot that morning - it was a little bit early.  He'd hardly had any sleep, what with the racket from the partying and prayer calls.  When he click-clacked out onto the concourse in his Prada suit and black Ferragamos, the entire room fell silent.  He could hear the ceiling fan spinning, the gentle rustle of the palms fronds. 
Everybody
, The Prince included, was sitting there in jeans and trainers.  Ben felt like an absolute twat.

He was changed and back in two minutes flat, mortified for keeping them waiting.  The Prince just smiled and waved his sorries away.  He would hear nothing of it. 

'Benjamin, there is no hurry.  The Arabian Desert is over two million years old.  I've no doubt it will be there for a little while yet.  Five more minutes will make no difference,' he said with a booming laugh. 

Every apology only served to make Aziz more uncomfortable.  Ben just shut up in the end. 

'Why are you bringing this?' The Prince asked as they headed to the cars, patting the leather camera case slung over Ben's shoulder.  'I did not invite you to take pictures.  This is meant to be a holiday - for all of us.'

Ben's heart sank.  His smile faded.

'I'm sorry, Your Highness...  it's just that I've never seen the desert before.  I wanted to get a few shots.  I'm sorry...  I didn't mean it to be an intrusion.'

The Prince tutted back at him.

'No more apologies, Benjamin!'  He squeezed his shoulder.  '
Relax
, we are all friends here.  If you want to take photos, that is fine, but do not think that I brought you here to work.  I brought you with us to have fun, and by God are we going to have it!' 

He flashed an expensive white grin.

They all seemed so different in their Western clothes.  Finally, Ben didn't stick out.  He was taken aback by Aziz in his tight black t-shirt and faded jeans.  The guy had some serious shoulders.  Beneath the headgear he'd been wearing all week, he had a thick head of tousled black hair.  He would have had the birds falling over themselves back in blighty.

'Aziz?'

'Yes, Benjamin?'

'...What does it mean if someone says to you ...
ana bahabik ketir
?'

Aziz's smile instantly crumbled.  He tore off his sunglasses.  His brown eyes were bulging, dancing from the driver to the guy in the passenger seat as he pressed his forefinger to his lips. 

Whatever it was couldn't be good. 

'...Who say this to you?' Aziz demanded, leaning in towards Ben, his voice barely above a whisper.

'Oh, it doesn't matter,' Ben said dismissively.  'I just wondered whether you knew what it meant.'

Aziz's brow crumpled in a deep frown.

'Benjamin...  Are you a gay?' he whispered accusingly.

'...What?'

Aziz's eyes were darting all over his face, trying to weigh him up. 

'...Because to be gay here,' Aziz whispered, 'is a crime.  Is not allowed.  At all!'

'Aziz, I'm not gay!' Ben whispered back.

'But a man say this to you?' 

He was getting himself in a right tizz.

'No!  Oh look, forget it...'

'...Forget it?' he hissed.  'Listen to me, Benjamin.  This a big deal...  Is it a woman? ...Oh my God!'  He threw his hands up, slapping them down on his thighs, running them through his hair.  'Was it someone at the wedding?  ...Benjamin.  You are in a world full of shit!'

'Don't worry!' Ben tried to supplicate him.  'Look honestly, it's fine.'

Aziz's gaze flicked between the guys in the front of the car as they stared blankly at the road ahead, the driver tapping his finger on the wheel in time with the music.  It was blaring out.  They couldn't hear a thing.

'Don't worry, he say!' Aziz whispered.  'Oh, it's fine he say!'

'Aziz, for God's sake, get a grip.  Look... it was my girlfriend, if you must know.'

'Oh my God!' Aziz boomed. 

They heard that.  The passenger's head swivelled around.  Aziz put on a blatantly fake grin and false laugh.  The old guy in the front shrugged and faced forward again.  Aziz smile melted in milliseconds.

'You have Saudi girlfriend?' he growled at Ben.  'After everything I say, you take a girlfriend?  ...You know, when I met you at the airport, I say to myself, Aziz, this one is trouble.'

He threw his head back, ran his hands down his face.

'She said it on the phone,' Ben grumbled back.  'Look, stop it will you.'

'I tell you, stay off the chatlines!  I tell you, everything monitored!  Everything, Benjamin!  ...Are you crazy?  Alhamdulillah, they will put us all in the prison!  Oh my God...  We probably going there now...'

He was verging on the hysterical.  Ben was almost ready to slap him.

'My girlfriend,
in England
, Aziz,' Ben mumbled in despair.

Ben watched Aziz trying to process the information.

'...You take Arab girlfriend in England?'

'Part Arab...  Yes.'

Aziz sat and thought for a moment more.

'But this impossible,' he told Ben.  'This forbidden in our culture.  Muslimah must marry Muslim man,' he said, jabbing his finger into the seat.

'She's Christian.'

'...Oh.' 

Ben watched the relief slowly pour into Aziz's eyes, the frown melt, the smile reappear. 

'...Oh, I see!  Well, why didn't you say so?  ...Mabruk, my friend!  Congratulations!'

'So?  What does it mean?'

'...What does what mean?'

'Ana beh—'

'Ah!  Ah this?  This very, very easy...  She say, she likes you a lot...  Or... she loves you a lot.  We use the same word in our language.'

Aziz gave him a playful thump on the shoulder and a big grin. 

'...So like I say in the start, you in big trouble my friend!'

Ben turned to look out of his window, a smile creeping across his face.  For all of the histrionics, Aziz had just made his day.

'Benjamin?'

Ben turned back to him.  Aziz slipped his shades back on and relaxed back into his seat. 

'You must explain for her that when a woman says that to a man, then it is
ba-he-bak
, not
bahabik
as she says. 
Ba-he-bak
to a man,
ba-ha-bik
to a woman.  It's important she correct this.  You understand me?'

Ben just smiled and nodded.  It wasn't a conversation he ever imagined them having.

Eve was awoken by a knock at the door.  It was only ten past nine.  She hauled herself out of bed and put on her dressing gown, quickly folding in the collar to hide yesterday's scuzzy soup stain. 

The Sainsbury's delivery wasn't booked till eleven.  It was way too early for Jackson. 
Oh God... 
It wasn't Curtis coming to mither her about this hen party business?  She wished she could just fast forward to Saturday night, when it was all over.  When she had Ben to herself.

'Morning.  Could you sign for this please?' 

Eve wasn't expecting anything.  Curtis and Eve's goblets had arrived the day before, she hadn't ordered anything else.  She dazedly scribbled on his digital screen with the plastic wand.  She could have signed Mickey Mouse for all the resemblance it bore to her own signature - those things are so damned hard to write on. 

The package was big but surprisingly light.

Eve fed the cat and made a cuppa.  She did feel better today.  Not well enough to go into work. 
Perish the thought. 
The very notion of all the pre-wedding twittering made her ear start throbbing again.  She hadn't had a day off sick since she started there, and that was two years now.  She did feel guilty, but not quite guilty enough. 
Meh.
  They could manage without her.

She got back into bed with her tea and mystery parcel.  It was her name on the label.  She gingerly picked at a corner, then lost patience, quickly tearing through the polythene.  Beneath was a glossy red box, A3 sized, not very deep.  She pulled off the lid, unfurling the white tissue paper. 

Eve grinned to herself. 

Thanks for the knickers X

Within a minute, her phone lit up with a ching.

Sorry about ripping the others.  Actually, no I'm not ;) X

Eve was getting pretty fired up.  Text sex?  Really? 

Ben had to knock it on the head, and fast.  He was getting far hornier than was sensible sitting in a car full of Arabs.

'Hey.'

'Hey,' she cooed back at him.

'You sound better,' said Ben.  Surprisingly so.

'I feel it,' Eve told him.

'Good...  Look, I can't talk properly, it's a bit difficult at the moment.'

'...What's the matter?'

'Nothing,' Ben said cheerfully.  'It's just I've got company.  We're on our way out to the desert.' 

She could hear the excitement in his voice. 

'...I'm not sure there'll be any reception out there, but I just wanted to tell you...  I'm looking forward to Saturday.  I'll call you as soon as I get back.'

'OK,' said Eve.

'...Stop it!'

'What?'

'No, no.  Not you.' Ben told her.  'My friend here is fooling around.'

'...Friend?  What friend?'

Her voice changed instantly. 

'Aziz.  He's being a pain in the ass.'

She heard a deep laugh she knew wasn't Ben's.  Her shoulders slackened, frown melted.

'...I miss you,' she said quietly. 

'I miss you too,' Ben told her. 

'Have a good time.'

'Speak to you soon.'

'Bye.'

'...Evelyn?'

'Yes?'

'Ti voglio bene.'

Ben smiled.  He snapped his phone shut.

'No, no, no!' Aziz chastised him.  'Are you crazy?  What you say that for?'

Ben frowned. 
He's pushing it now
.

'You should say
ti amo
,'  Aziz continued, unperturbed.  'It's much nicer for her.'

...
Really?  Italian lessons? 

'No, Aziz.  Really.  It isn't.'

'I know what is happening here,' Aziz asserted.  'She say it in Arabic, so you not quite sure what she mean.  You just scared to say it in the first.  Benjamin, you are the man in the relationship.  You have to wear the pants!'

'We only met a few weeks ago!'

'Oh...  Tell me you are not in love!' Aziz said, grinning.  'Go on, I dare you!  That first day I meet you, you were a mess, Benjamin.  I say to myself, Aziz, there is a man with a woman trouble...'

'...You said five minutes ago you thought
I
was the trouble.'

Aziz looked thoughtful.  He shrugged.

'Any man with trouble, there is a woman behind it...  Chercher la femme!'

French too? Pretty impressive.

'I see you in the car, every single day, checking your phone.  Checking, checking, checking, looking at her picture over and over...  You know, I will never understand the Western man.  You make it so complicated, when it's really very easy.  You pick up the phone, you call, you talk.  You love the girl?  Marry her.  What's so difficult with it?'

'Hallas?' said Ben.

'Hallas!' grinned Aziz.

'And if things don't work out the first time, just get another?  Start a collection?' Ben jibed.

Aziz rolled his eyes and shook his head.

'Only if you either very brave or very crazy.  You see the trouble one woman bring?  Imagine four!  No, no.  One more than enough!'

Eve had Google Translate open in her internet browser within seconds of Ben ringing off.  She was smiling from ear to ear.

She reached into the box again, taking out the knickers, holding them up to the light.  Beautiful black French lace.  She reached in again, more knickers, different styles but with the same motif.  These weren't three for a tenner at Asda.  Eve checked the label. 
Agent Provocateur. 
A suspender belt and two styles of bra.  Her cheeks flushed - they were all the right sizes.  He must have checked her tatty cheap ones.

Eve had never had a man buy her underwear before.  She always imagined it would feel a bit icky; make you feel a bit cheap, but the effect was entirely the opposite.  Maybe it depends on the man.  There were no crotchless panties; no nipple tassels.   Ben had very good taste.

What a difference a day makes.  The night before she'd been bawling her eyes out.  She was panicking because he hadn't called.  It had been three days already.  Googling the news, Googling Saudi, Googling Jeddah - plane crashes, car crashes, arrests.  Human rights abuses, Sharia law, torture of prisoners.  Ben was so gung-ho -
it'll be fine
.  He was completely out of his depth.