Virtually Perfect (29 page)

He shook his head.

'This is humanity at its very worst.  They will drag us down to the pit of hell with them if we allow it.  This is why we must have rules, deterrents, retribution.  Without them, we will live as animals.  Benjamin, if I put my wallet here on the table, I know you will not touch it.  But some people will take it away in a second, even if they don't need it, even just for the thrill.  If I tell them
'Please don't take it,'
they will not care.  If I tell them
'Please don't take it, or I will cut off your hand.'
they will think a thousand times...  This is just money... but a wife?  A fiancée?  ...It is incomprehensible.  It is one of the very worst things one human being can do to another.' 

The Prince squeezed Ben's shoulder. 

'Benjamin, I am sorry, really.  To hear this happened to you, it hurts me so much.'

'...Thank you, Your Highness.' 

The Prince waved him away.

'Please.  There are no Your Highnesses out here.  In the desert, I am just Rauf.' 

They both looked up from their discussions.  Aziz stood in front of them, holding out a plate to The Prince.  The Prince smiled up and took it.  Aziz handed another plate to Ben. 

Ben smiled up.

'Shukran.'

Ben tore a strip from the barbecued meat, flinching as the heat seared through his fingers.

'How is it?' asked The Prince.

'Mmm...' Ben nodded.  'It's much better than Al Baik.'

The Prince roared with laughter for a moment, until he caught himself and silenced it, head down, shoulders jiggling in waves of giggles.  He knew how squeamish the English were. 
Just let him enjoy it. 
It wasn't chicken.  Actually, it was rabbit.

They sat smoking shisha after dinner, lying back on their cushions, sipping little glasses of sweet mint tea.  Rafiq and Khalid were playing dominos, the rest of the men dotted in clusters.  There must have been about thirty, all in all.  Ben gazed out into the night, smoking the mild apple-flavoured tobacco.  He'd never seen so many stars.

'You have a new girl now, Benjamin?'

Ben turned to The Prince and smiled.

'Yes.' 

The Prince smiled back at him raising his eyebrows, toking back on the pipe in bursts, making the water bubble furiously.

'It must be hard to trust after that though, no?' he said, exhaling a big plume of white smoke.

'Not really,' Ben shrugged.  'Eve's different.  I...  I can't explain.' 

Ben thought for a second.  He and The Prince exchanged looks.

'...OK, maybe a little.' 

It was always there, in the back of his mind.  Just a shadow of doubt - just a trace.

The Prince shrugged back at him.

'Benjamin, the trick is, learn from the past, but don't be consumed by it.  Don't let it swallow up your future.'

Ben just smiled and nodded.

The Prince called across in Arabic to Aziz.  Aziz raised his eyebrows then hopped up and ran off into the darkness.  A minute later, he reappeared with a black leather case, laying it down on the carpet in front of them. 

The Prince smiled and patted it.

'Shukran.'

Aziz shuffled away.

'Open it,' he said to Ben.

Ben leant forward, sliding the stiff zipper undone.  He glanced at The Prince, then flipped the lid back. 

Ben balked.  He sat there blinking.  Two dozen diamonds blinked back.

'Take your pick,' The Prince told him. 

Ben shook himself.  He laughed nervously, sitting back on his cushions, taking another puff of the bubbly pipe.

'You're too funny, Your Hi...  Rauf.'             

The Prince grinned back at him.

'Choose whichever one you like.'

Ben glanced at him, then back at the stones.  Some of them were like pebbles, glittering against the black velvet.  There must have been a few million dollars there. 

Is this a windup? 

Ben grinned, shook his head, toked again.

'I mean it,' he heard The Prince say.

Ben blew a plume of smoke up to the ether, beyond the fabric tent, up to the stars and thin crescent of moon.  He turned back to The Prince, fidgeting beneath his prominent stare.

'Your H...' 

The Prince smiled.  His dark eyes slammed shut.  He shook his head. 

'Rauf...  I couldn't possibly.'

'How old are you, Benjamin?'

'Pardon?'

'How old are you?' enquired The Prince.

'36,' Ben admitted.  How he hated to be reminded.

'How long were you with the last one?' The Prince asked meeting Ben's sharp aqua stare.

'Twelve years,' he said quietly.

'...Twelve years!' boomed The Prince.  'How long were you engaged for?'

'Three,' said Ben, in barely a whisper.  He grabbed the hookah again. 

'...Three years?  Are you serious?'

Ben nodded his head.  He took a long drag.

'I'm not sure I actually wanted to get married,' he admitted thoughtfully.   'I'm not sure I knew what I wanted.'

And with that, he started to choke, hanging up the hookah, covering his mouth.  The Prince patted his back.

'I think, perhaps, you just wanted to make sure she didn't marry anyone else,' he said with a knowing look.

Ben wiped his mouth, red-faced.

'Maybe,' he gasped back.  'Something like that.'

The Prince played with this beard, taking up his hookah again.

'But this one is different?'

'Well, you know, it's very early...'  Ben threw his cap off, ruffling his hair.  He threw it on again.  'Yes.'

Aziz came over, refilling his glass with mint tea.  He didn't even give the diamonds a second glance.

'Shukran.'

Ben sipped at it.  It was piping hot.  It burnt his tongue.  Suddenly, he felt very thirsty.

'Pick one,' said The Prince, thrusting the box of stones in front of him again.

Ben smiled.  He was like a kid offering up his marble collection - they were probably only worth that to him - but, even so.

'Honestly.  It's too much...  I've had a great time today, I can't take anymore from you than you've given me already...'

'Pick one.'

Ben looked at him, then back to the diamonds.

'Trust me.  She will appreciate it much more than lingerie.'

Ben's head shot up.  The Prince just grinned and shrugged.

Ben looked at the stones, facets catching the light in a thousand colourful sparkles.  Some of them were as big as his thumbnail.

'I like you so much, Benjamin.  It would be an honour for me if you would accept this gift, really.'

And an insult if he didn't...
  Oh well, fair enough.

Ben's fingers ran across the rows of diamonds, hovering over a little round stone.  His eyes flicked up to The Prince's.  The Prince just smiled at him.  He reached forward, plucking it from the indentation in the black velvet with a click. 

Ben held it in his fingers, turning it around, watching the facets catch the light.

'This one?' asked The Prince.

Ben looked up at him.  He sheepishly nodded. 

It didn't feel right.  It didn't feel right at all.  He knew what The Prince wanted him to do with it.  It was way too early to be thinking about any of that. 
Wasn't it?
  It wasn't that that bothered him.  It all felt too easy.  What was it worth?  Maybe his car?  Maybe a three bedroomed semi in Wigan? 

You're supposed to save up for things like that, what is the tradition, a month's wages?  Three?  Ben had once brought in over a million on one image alone.  A month's worth of those and her knuckles would be scraping the floor.  She'd have to be chauffeured by
Securicor.  Money meant nothing these days, not really, not to him; definitely not to The Prince.  When he was a kid, they had nothing, now he had it all. 

He started to question how happy it really made him.  There's something noble in the struggle.  When you have it all, what is there left to aspire to?

'...But Benjamin, this one is tiny.  Are you just being polite?'

Ben stared out into space, then back at the diamond.

'Evelyn has very small hands.'

The Prince smiled and nodded.  He clicked his fingers.  Aziz appeared with a drawstring pouch.  The Prince took it, dropping the stone inside, pulling the thong, gathering it together.  He knotted it and handed it to Ben.

'You made a very good choice.'

Ben hesitantly took it.

'Thank you, Your H...'

Rauf just waved him away. 

It was a four carat brilliant-cut diamond, flawless in colour, cut and clarity.  Unbeknownst to Ben, he'd picked the most expensive stone of the lot.  He pushed it into the front pocket of his jeans, a little excited, a little bit terrified.

'You see this carpet that we are sitting on Benjamin?' 

Ben peered down, smoothing his hand across the silk. 

'It was handmade in Persia - very expensive. 

'You know, the women who make them are highly skilled.  They were taught by their mother, who was taught by their mother before them.  It goes back generations...  Every knot is deliberate.  It is a work of art.' 

Ben looked down at the ornate swirling leaves and geometric designs.  It was incredible to think all of that had been crafted by just one pair of hands.

'...And yet every single one of these carpets contains a mistake.'

Factory seconds? 
For a Saudi prince?  It didn't seem very likely. 

'...They contain a mistake, because if they don't make one by accident, they will put one there on purpose...  Do you know why they do this, Benjamin?'

Ben just shook his head.

'We believe that only God is perfect.  If you go through life looking for perfection in people, you will only be disappointed...  I mean, if it has a huge mistake, if it is badly made - if it has a big tear down the middle - then only a fool will buy it.  But that is just one carpet amongst many...  Do you understand what I'm trying to say?'

Ben smiled at him.  He thought he did.  He'd just compared Eve to a rug.

'Benjamin, wake up.  Benjamin...  Benjamin!'

Ben shot up, disorientated, drowsy, wondering whether he was still in a dream. 

He was sure he'd heard the words, felt the hands grip his shoulders.  Someone was shaking him. 

He rubbed his eyes, squinting up.  He flinched at the dark figure standing over him. 

He froze.  He could hear something outside. 

'Get dressed, Benjamin.  We have to leave.  We have to leave right now!'

It was serious, Ben knew it immediately.  He could hear the urgency in Rauf's voice.

Ben jumped up, scouring the floor in the dim light, scrambling for his jeans, grabbing them by the waist, giving them a flick to the air, pushing his feet into them, yanking them on. 

He spotted his trainers, reaching his foot towards them.

'Wait!' barked Rauf, scooping down and grabbing them.  He shook them out.  'Be careful of the scorpions.'

Rauf pushed the trainers into Ben's arms.  Ben dropped them on the carpet, thrusting his bare feet into them.  He could hear the noise outside the tent.  It sounded louder now.  A low grumble, almost a roar. 

'Put on your sunglasses,' Rauf told him.

It was still dark, he could barely see as it was.  What on earth was going on?  There were no women here.  He felt Rauf thrust his shades into his hands.  Ben hurriedly did as he was told, pushing the Raybans over his nose, stumbling around in the darkness, tripping over the blanket. 

'Wait!' Rauf told him. 

Ben froze.  He felt something over his head.  He suddenly felt very anxious.  He could feel something over his face; the warmth of his own breath, damp against his lips.  If it had been anyone else, Ben would have decked him.  But a Saudi prince?  Even in his sleep induced stupor, Ben knew better than that. 

'What's happening?' he murmured.

He caught a glimpse of checks against his Raybans, felt the fabric quickly wrapped tight around his neck, a warm hand knotting it against the nape, tucking the ends under.   

'We are in a very serious predicament,' Rauf said, his Arabic twang stronger than ever.  'There is a storm coming.  We have to go.  We have to go now.  Are you ready Benjamin?'

God, he could hear it.  It sounded like a hurricane.  The tent was billowing and shaking.

'Yes,' Ben told him nervously.  'Yes...  I think so.'

'Be ready to run and stay with me,' said Rauf.  'Do not stop until we reach the car.  Do not stop for anything.'

Rauf heaved back the curtain.  The wind rushed in immediately.  Ben stood for a millisecond, feet rooted to the spot.  He could see it, towering over them.  It was headed straight for them.