Red-Hot Desert Docs. Carol Marinelli

the maid said. ‘The Queen already has her remedy. This has been prepared for you. You are to keep it at body temperature and carry it in your robe, and take a sip morning and night.’

      ‘For me? But what’s in it?’

      The maid didn’t answer and, troubled about what the Queen had been given, Adele decided to call Mr Oman. She was surprised to find he had already had a long conversation with the healer.

      ‘Yes, he discussed it with me,’ Mr Oman said. ‘I agree that Leila should be out in the sun and the herbs he recommends are an excellent choice. Make sure she completes the antibiotics.’

      They had a gorgeous morning, walking barefoot on the beach, and then Adele helped Leila down some stones steps. The healing baths were cut into rocks and filled by the ocean, and they took off their robes and got in.

      It was bliss.

      Unlike the ocean, here the water was calm and there was just the occasional gentle lulling wave.

      ‘I needed this.’ Leila closed her eyes and lay on her back and Adele found she was soon doing the same. ‘The nurse at the hospital put salt in my bath, but of course it cannot match the magic of the ocean.’

      Colour was returning to Leila’s face and as the days passed, Adele realised just how tense she herself had been because she was starting to unwind.

      Maybe she should try the remedy.

      Adele didn’t know why, all she knew was that she felt relaxed here.

      That afternoon, when Leila had gone for a rest, instead of walking towards the beach, as she did most afternoons, Adele headed to the desert-facing side of the palace.

      And it was there, for the first time since arriving, that she saw him.

      Zahir was driving out through his own private exit when he saw Adele.

      * * *

      Her hair was blonder from swimming in the ocean and her cheeks were pinker. She looked very beautiful in a lilac robe and silver scarf.

      He slowed the car to a stop and got out and she walked towards him.

      ‘Am I not supposed to be here?’ Adele checked.

      ‘You can walk anywhere,’ he said, ‘unless it is gated. Don’t worry, you cannot accidentally access the royal beach or gardens, they are all guarded. Just wander as you please.’

      ‘I shall, then.’

      He looked amazing in his robes and the keffiyeh brought out the silver in his eyes. He no longer had stubble on his jaw, it was way more than that, and he was simply beautiful.

      ‘How has your time here been?’ he asked her.

      ‘Amazing,’ Adele said. ‘I can’t say I’ve really been working...’

      ‘My mother is very pleased that you are here. She said you have been liaising with Mr Oman.’

      Adele nodded.

      ‘And she says that the healer prescribed you a remedy.’

      ‘He did,’ Adele said. ‘I don’t know whether I should take it. I don’t know what’s in it.’

      Zahir smiled and when he did, her stomach turned into a gymnast, because it didn’t just somersault, it felt as it was tumbling over and over.

      ‘Do you have it with you?’ he asked, for he knew how things worked and that a potion should be carried by the recipient and kept at body temperature.

      She nodded and went into her robe and handed over the vial.

      He read the intricate writing that she could not understand.

      ‘It’s fine to drink, though just a sip morning and night,’ Zahir told her. ‘Do you know, my father and I were just talking and he pointed out that both Dakan and I have never been ill? He is right. I remember when I was studying medicine and I joined the rugby team. I strained my shoulder. I was new in London and I was surprised that they strapped it and suggested pain and anti-inflammatory medication. I ended up at a Chinese herbalist.’

      ‘Did it help?’

      ‘Yes,’ Zahir said. ‘It did.’

      He had returned to Mamlakat Almas so gung-ho and demanding yet he could see the rapid improvement in his mother and he was quietly pleased that the healer had taken some time for Adele also.

      She carried pain.

      Emotional pain.

      It was something he could both see and feel and something modern medicine had little room for.

      He had seen it when he had shone the torch into her eyes, but he had expected to see it then. She had been hit after all. But the pain he had seen wasn’t acute.

      It was chronic.

      Layer upon layer of pain.

      He could only imagine his colleagues’ reactions if he had written that in his notes.

      ‘I am just going to look at the site for the new hospital.’

      ‘Are the plans going well?’

      ‘No,’ Zahir admitted. ‘Would you like to join me?’

      ‘Is it allowed?’

      ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘If the hospital goes ahead we would need nurses. Why wouldn’t I seek your opinion?’

      He was giving her the same explanation he would give his father. The truth was, he wanted some time with her.

      It had been a long week, knowing that she was here and wondering how she was doing but being unable to enquire.

      * * *

      It was lovely to be out with Zahir.

      He drove the car through ancient, dusty streets and then through a very modern city, at least in part.

      There was an eclectic mix of ancient and modern. The most fashionable boutiques were housed in ancient buildings and there were locals and tourists, bikes and old cars along with sports cars and stretch limousines. Then there were towering modern hotels.

      ‘We have everything but a workable health system,’ Zahir told her. ‘We have a good education system yet our best brains travel overseas to study medicine and few want to work back here once they have.’

      They drove a little further and came to a small, rundown-looking building.

      ‘This is the medical centre,’ he explained.

      They walked in and he spoke with a nervous receptionist who quickly summoned someone, a young woman, who showed them through the facility.

      There was some very basic equipment and an occasional gleaming piece of machinery.

      ‘Dakan and I bought these defibrillators last year. The trouble is, we need to train people in their use. It is a multi-faceted problem. This is the theatre...’

      They stepped in and Adele could see why the Queen would seek treatment elsewhere.

      ‘What do you see happening?’ Adele asked. ‘Tear it down and start again?’

      ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘This building should be the gateway to the new, though that is not my idea...’ He led her through and they walked outside. The heat hit them like an open oven door and, in contrast to the busy street at the front, to the rear there was a vast expanse of nothing and they looked out to the desert.

      ‘Like most cities, it is overcrowded and there is a clamour for space, yet this land had been held back for generations. The architects and advisors of the time knew that the city would one day need more room. I cannot build anything, though, without the King’s approval. I want a facility that incorporates both traditional and modern medicine. I want them combined.’

      ‘It would be amazing,’ Adele