Page 63 of Under the Arabian Sky

“What’s there to be scared of when I have you by my side?”

He leaned over and kissed me, just as the engines powered up and the plane raced down the runway.

He was kissing me still as the nose tilted upward…

The wheels of the craft left the ground…

And the plane soared into the sky, casting its shadow over the rippling dunes of the desert.

“Just like a falcon!” Tariq exclaimed, looking out the window of a plane for the first time in his life. “We’re flying… just like a falcon!”

“Yes, we are,” I said, forgetting my fears and grinning at his boyish excitement. “Yes, we are.”

* * *

The rain teemed against the window as Tariq and I finished packing the last of the boxes, sealing them with packing tape and labelling them for the removalists. As Tariq was not used to the cold, I’d managed to spare a scarf and anorak from the packing so that I could wrap them around him to keep him warm.

“Snug enough?” I asked with a peck on his lips.

“For now… but can we please go home soon? I think I’m about to turn into an icicle.”

“You bet. There’s just one last thing I need to do.”

Down the hallway, I knocked on Mrs. Abbott’s door with one hand behind my back, while Tariq stood behind me. She answered after a moment or two and beamed at the sight of me.

“Arthur. You’re back. And my, what a tan you have.”

“I’m not back for long. I’ve decided to stay in Oman.”

“Stay?” There was no hiding her surprise.

“That’s right. I asked my boss to cancel the replacement he’d found for me. Oman’s going to be my new home. I’ve come back to pack my things.”

“Oh dear, I’m going to miss you.” She peered over my shoulder at Tariq. “Who’s this?”

“Mrs. Abbott, I’d like you to meet Tariq, my boyfriend.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Is he from the Middle East?”

“Yes, I am,” Tariq answered for himself. “Pleased to meet you.”

Mrs. Abbott leaned in close to me and whispered, “He doesn’t look like a terrorist. He’s very handsome. And he seems quite nice.”

“I assure you, he is. He’s very nice.” I pulled my hand out from behind my back to reveal a gift for Mrs. Abbott. “Speaking of nice, I’ve fallen in love with Arabic coffee, which is made in one of these. It’s called adallah. I know you don’t drink coffee, but I thought you might like one to serve your tea in.”

Her eyes lit up at the sight of the bejewelled pot. “Oh, a gift! I don’t get many gifts these days. How thoughtful of you. It’s beautiful, I love it.”

“I’m glad. There’s just one more thing, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“What’s that, dear?”

I took a deep breath. “Are the plants still happy here? I don’t think I can take them with me. They won’t like the desert at all.”

“They’re very happy. The orchid is even flowering again.”

“May I… May I say goodbye to them?”

Mrs. Abbott opened her door wide. “Please, be my guest.”

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