‘I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to wrap this up and it might hurt a little bit.’ She looked around, wishing for someone—anyone—to appear. Surely someone must realise their child was missing and take charge so she didn’t have to? Because she had nothing with her that might help, and the swaying palm trees offered no assistance, no rescue.
‘Where is your mother?’ she asked, once again scanning the palms for any hint of the girl’s family as she ripped the hem of her abaya, tearing a long strip from the bottom and yanking it off at the seam. She folded the fabric until it formed a bandage she could wrap around the child’s foot.
‘Katif was crying. And Mama ran back to the camp and told me to follow.’ And then she shrieked and Aisha felt guilty for tying the bandage so tight, even when she knew the girl was upset about not being able to follow her mother and her mother not coming back.
‘Your mother knows you are okay,’ she soothed, sensing it was what the child needed to hear. ‘Your mother is busy with Katif right now, but she knew I would look out for you and she could check on you later.’
The girl blinked up at her. ‘You know my mother?’
There was no way she could lie. ‘No, but I know she is good to be taking care of Katif, and I know someone will be here soon for you.’
And even as she spoke there was a panicked cry as a woman emerged running from the trees. ‘Cala! Cala!’
‘Mama!’
‘Oh, Cala,’ she said, relief evident in her voice as she fell to the sand and squeezed her child tightly in her arms. ‘I am so sorry, I did not see you fall behind.’ And then she noticed the improvised bandage on her daughter’s foot. ‘But what happened?’
‘I cut my foot on a shell. This lady found me.’
For the first time the woman took notice of Aisha. ‘The wound will need cleaning before it can be properly dressed,’ Aisha offered. ‘There was not much I could do here.’
The mother nodded, her tear-streaked face caked with sand. ‘Thank you for taking care of her. Katif was screaming again; he’s sick and I don’t know what’s wrong with him but I had to get him back to camp and I thought Cala was right behind me.’ She gulped in air as she rocked her child in her arms. ‘I was so afraid when I realised she was missing. I was so worried.’
Aisha stroked her arm. ‘It’s all right. Cala is fine.’ She looked over her shoulder, thinking that she should be getting back. ‘I must go. Will you be all right getting back to camp?’
‘Of course,’ the mother said, letting go of her child for a moment to take Aisha’s hand and press her forehead to it, noticing the torn hem of her robe. ‘Oh, but you have ruined your abaya.’
‘It is nothing, really. I have many more.’
And the woman really looked at her this time, her eyes widening in shock, tears once again welling from their dark depths. ‘Blessings to you,’ she said, prostrating herself on the sand before her as her wide-eyed daughter looked on, contentedly sucking on two fingers of her hand. ‘Bless you.’
‘What are you doing?’ she asked Zoltan when she returned. All the way back she had felt the sun warm her skin. All the way back she had felt the warmth of the woman’s blessings in her heart.
Now she found Zoltan sitting at a desk under the shade of a palm tree, a massive tome before him.
He barely looked up from his study. ‘It was too hot inside the tent.’
‘No, I mean, what are you reading?’
He looked up then, suddenly scowling when he saw her torn robe. ‘What happened to your abaya?’
She looked down. ‘Oh, there was a child on the beach. She’d cut her foot.’
He leaned back in his chair, his frown deepening. ‘And so you tore your robe?’
She shrugged. ‘There was nothing else to use.’ And then she remembered. ‘Is there a doctor somewhere close?’
This time he stood. ‘Are you hurt, Princess?’
‘No, not for me. There is a child—a baby, I think. It sounds like he should be seen by a doctor. The mother is worried.’ He was looking at her strangely. ‘What’s wrong?’
He shook his head. ‘Nothing. And yes, Ahab—one of the chefs—has some medical expertise. I will ask him to visit the camp, to see if there is anything he can do.’
She nodded, majorly relieved. ‘Thank you. It is probably worth him checking the cut on the girl’s foot too, in case there is still some shell lodged inside.’ She looked down at her torn robe. ‘I should get changed.’
He watched her turn, wondering about a spoilt princess who would tear her own abaya to make a bandage for a child she didn’t know. A stranger.