At least he was letting her go. Now she could return to Milan; now she would be free.
She looked
at the land surrounding the airport road, out over the sandy plains and stunted trees, and her heart ached with the impending separation. So much for being free. Part of her would always belong here, in this desert kingdom with the tall, golden-skinned sheikh named Khaled. With the man she could never now tell she loved.
They passed through airport security, markedly tightened since her arrival, the presence of guards a disturbing but necessary reaction to their earlier troubles. Then they were through the gates and onto the tarmac, where the driver pulled alongside the jet, its engines already warming up. And then her door was being pulled open and before she knew it she was standing at the foot of the steps, Khaled’s hands surrounding her own, and the moment had finally come to say goodbye.
She looked up at his face, his jaw set, his dark eyes tortured, and she wanted to kiss his eyes then to kiss away the pain. ‘Promise me something,’ she said.
His jaw eased up enough for him to speak. ‘Promise what?’
‘Forget about Paolo. Forget about what happened so long ago. Think about your future, as your parents would want you to do. Can you do that?’
‘I’ll see,’ he said with some effort.
She smiled. It was something at least. ‘Thank you.’
‘What are your plans?’ he asked. ‘Will you stay in Milan?’
She exhaled a long breath. ‘I don’t know. I think I have to go back to Australia first. I need to visit my family. You were right, you know; I’ve blamed my mother too much for what’s happened between my sisters and me. And you’ve made me realise how lucky I am to have her. I’m going to visit and really get to know her and try to put things right between us.’
He smiled himself then. ‘I’m glad. But your work?’
She shrugged. ‘Maybe it’s time I went out on my own. Gianfranco has been a wonderful teacher, but I’d love to have my own business somewhere…’
She left it there. She didn’t need to tell him what kind of shop it would be. Neither of them needed to remember right now what had brought her here or to be reminded of the dress that now lay crushed and tear-stained on her bed.
‘I hope you get it,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’
An officer stepped forward and whispered something in Khaled’s ear. He nodded and sighed as the officer stepped back.
‘It’s time to go, then,’ she said, feeling a lump in her throat growing larger and larger.
He nodded. ‘It’s time.’
‘Well, then. Goodbye.’
He looked into her eyes and she saw the swirling emotions that were going on in his and his mouth moved, as if he was on the brink of saying something. And just for a moment she got the impression that he was going to tell her again—tell her that he loved her—and she knew that if he did, then she would tell him too. But then he pressed his lips together and when he did speak it was only to say, ‘I’m so sorry.’
He squeezed her hands, bringing her just close enough that he could press his lips to her cheek, lingering there momentarily so she felt for the last time his intake of breath against her skin, the rasp of his five o’clock shadow and the warm sensuality of his lips.
And then he took his mouth away and without looking back at her disappeared into the car.
She shivered. Liquid nitrogen would feel warmer than his cold dismissal. Stiffly she turned and clambered up the stairs, pressing back tears behind a wall of resolve that threatened to tumble at any moment. Through a haze of moisture she was shown to her seat. She tried to smile at the attendant but she didn’t know if her face was working. She couldn’t feel anything. She was totally numb.
Her eyes searched the windows, looking to catch sight of his car, hoping for a last glimpse of Khaled, but already it was moving towards the security gates, the glass too darkly tinted to see through. He wasn’t even waiting for her plane to take off. He’d probably already forgotten her.
The plane’s engines whined, doors pulled closed, and gradually, smoothly, it started its taxi to the runway, the security gates slowly disappearing from view as the plane angled away. She craned her head around but it was no good. The gates and the car were gone. She slumped back in her seat, paying scant attention now to the changing view of the airport as a sense of loss like she’d never known weighed down upon her.
What was it worth to be free, when you were leaving your heart behind? What was the point of freedom, when you had lost the one you loved?
That was when she saw it coming. Low and flat, just skimming the roofline over the airport hangars flew the helicopter—perilously close, she thought. But then, it was an airport after all and it could have been coming in to land.
She lost interest momentarily, until her brain registered the danger. It wasn’t landing. It was aiming right for them and there was someone hanging on the edge of the door. Something protruding.
A gun!