The Woman in Black

In the searing desert heat and cloying humidity of a July day in Jeddah, Princess Amaal refused to walk the few steps to the waiting, air-conditioned Lexus. Instead, she made her driver reverse into the triple garage, close the door and wait for her. When she deigned to appear, Younis, wearing a white thobe and ghutra, leapt out from behind the wheel and quickly opened the back door of the car and clicked it shut as soon as she was inside. She was covered from head to toe in black, apart from the gold braid, which trimmed her expensive abaya and hijab. The blacked-out windows prevented anybody from seeing inside the car.

The Princess was one of the lucky ones. Her husband, Prince Jameel, was a wonderful man. He trusted her implicitly and adored her; a good combination. Today, she was going to test that love. She had arranged for their London house in Kensington to be opened up for the summer, where she intended to stay for several weeks. The blistering heat of the desert city was oppressive and a sojourn in England was just what she needed.

Prince Jameel’s other three wives had borne him five sons between them, but Amaal had only produced a daughter. She was flying to London to visit one of the world’s leading Gynaecologists to see if she could assist her in producing a son. Friends of hers had done the same thing and been successful. It was worth a try.

Younis drove sedately along Prince Majid Road towards the King Abdulaziz International Airport and swung the Lexus into a small, unmarked side road and out to the hangar where Prince Jameel’s private jet was waiting. He had radioed ahead with his ETA, ensuring that the Princess could board the jet as quickly as possible. Her extensive range of luggage had been loaded the evening before when Younis had done the airport run under the cover of darkness; the nights were so much cooler than the searing daytime heat of summers in the bride of the Red Sea.

As she ascended the steps of the jet in her dainty Jimmy Choo shoes, Princess Amaal was shocked to find her husband already on board. He spoke to her softly in Arabic.

“My dear Amaal. Sit down.”

The Princess removed her abaya and hijab once the staff had left them alone, settling her slender figure into one of the enormous plush leather seats opposite her husband. He was handsome, kind and inspirational, and she felt honoured to be one of his wives.

“You must not fret about producing a son. Our beautiful daughter, Enaam, is enough. I don’t want you visiting clinics and wasting your time in London when you could be relaxing.”

“How did you find out?” she asked, blushing.

“Sweetie. You know that I only have your best interests at heart. I don’t need another son. Besides, I rather think Enaam enjoys all the attention from her brothers.”

Amaal knew that nothing got past her husband and she ignored the way he had side-stepped her question. She sipped the sparkling water that had been placed on the chic walnut side table next to her. There was a slice of fresh lime and a sprig of mint in it, just the way she liked it.

She reflected for a moment and then smiled at her husband sitting across from her. She could smell his Oud and butterflies started to flit around her insides. She was lucky to have him in her life; things could have turned out very differently.

The Prince continued in his soft, cultured voice, “I have arranged for Enaam to join us in a few days but in the meantime, I am going to accompany you to London. Just until she arrives and then…you two can spend the whole summer there. You can find out what interests her because one day, she will need to choose what she would like to do. Become a doctor perhaps, or even a Gynaecologist…” His eyes glittered as he spoke.

A broad smile spread across Amaal’s beautiful face. The thought of her daughter studying for a University degree and becoming an eminent doctor or even a surgeon in her chosen field filled her with joy. It was something she had always wanted to do but was never given the opportunity.

As she was about to settle down into her seat for the long flight ahead, her husband handed her a large white box. There, nestled on white velveteen was a replica of the necklace from The Titanic. She gasped when she touched the exquisite heart-shaped sapphire and diamonds looped onto a platinum chain. She carefully lifted it from the box and draped it around her swan-like neck for him to admire.

“Jameel, you spoil me,” she said sweetly, happy with the extravagant gift.

The Prince cocked his head slightly to one side.

“You are my Princess. Of course, I will spoil you.”

This short story was first published on Medium.