‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes.’ Gracie took a deep breath and tried for a smile. ‘Actually, I need to talk to you.’
It was eight o’clock on Friday morning and Sam was dressed for school. How on earth could she explain to him that instead he would be getting on a plane and travelling to a country he’d probably never heard of...with his father? But, no. The last part was for Malik to tell.
‘What is it?’ Sam asked, sensing her hesitation.
‘How...how would you like to go on a holiday? An amazing holiday?’
Sam’s eyebrows drew together in a way that was eerily reminiscent of Malik. ‘Is this a trick question?’
‘No.’
‘What kind of amazing holiday?’
‘To a place called Alazar.’
‘Alazar!’ Sam’s face brightened. ‘It has the highest mountain in the Middle East.’
‘Does it?’ Gracie smiled and shook her head. Of course her son had heard of Alazar and knew some obscure geographical fact about it. Of course he was going to be wildly excited about going. ‘Well, how would you like to visit there?’
‘Really?’ Sam’s eyes rounded as he bounced in his chair. ‘Just like that? When do we go?’
‘Um...today.’
‘Today!’ Sam stared at her in grinning disbelief and then bounced again, harder this time, so Gracie had to fling out one hand to keep the chair’s balance. ‘That is awesome. When do we leave?’
‘A car is coming for us around lunchtime.’
‘So we need to pack!’ Sam rose from his chair. ‘How much stuff should I bring?’
She had no idea. Would he need formal clothes? What would they be doing for two whole weeks? Swallowing down the butterflies that threatened to overwhelm her, Gracie rose from her chair and poured herself a much-needed second cup of coffee. ‘A little bit of everything, I guess. I don’t actually know anything about Alazar.’ Except its Sultan. ‘I suppose it will be pretty hot.’
Sam, halfway to his bedroom, stopped and turned around. ‘Why are we going there?’ he asked, and Gracie couldn’t tell if he was suspicious or just interested. ‘If you didn’t know anything about it?’
‘Well.’ Gracie took a sip of coffee to stall for time. She’d stayed up until the small hours of the morning thinking about how to explain this to Sam—as well as reliving every moment she’d spent with Malik. ‘I have a friend who is in the government there, and he’s invited us to stay.’
‘Really?’ Sam goggled at her. ‘How did you meet someone like that?’
‘I met him a long time ago, during my travels in Europe.’
‘Wow. So cool. I can’t wait to tell everyone at school!’
‘Yes, but you’ll miss the last week of school, Sam—’
‘Oh, who cares.’ Sam dismissed with a shrug. ‘We never do anything then anyway.’ And then, whistling, he disappeared into his bedroom. Gracie sank into her chair, clutching her coffee cup. That had been remarkably easy, just as Malik had predicted. And yet there was still so much that was unknown, so many hurdles to jump. But one step at a time, she told herself. One inch at a time if necessary. She didn’t think she could handle any more.
‘GOODNESS.’
Gracie shaded her eyes from the glare of the sunlight with one hand as she glanced up at the royal jet of Alazar, a gleaming black machine with wavy red stripes on the tail and wings. Next to her Sam let out a low hiss of breath, a sound of awe and excitement.
All morning he’d been running around the apartment like a mad thing, jumping on the bed and the sofa while Gracie had thrown things in suitcases and wondered what on earth she was supposed to wear. Would they be staying at some palace? Would there be formal occasions? Or would it all be casual, hanging out by a pool and reading paperbacks? She had no idea about any of it, what to expect from the trip—and from Malik.
That morning she’d had the most awkward and bizarre conversation of her life with her parents, explaining who Sam’s father was and why they were now going to Alazar.
‘A sultan?’ Her father’s eyes had boggled. ‘Gracie, are you sure he’s not having you on?’
Gracie had almost laughed at that. Poor, stupid Gracie who had managed not just to get herself knocked up but duped, too, by some con man. She knew her father meant it well, but she was tired of the scepticism and doubt.
‘I’m quite sure, Dad,’ she’d replied a bit sharply. She had no doubt about who Malik was in that respect. She simply didn’t know who he was any more as a person, as a man—if she’d ever known.
But now she was going to find out. At least for two weeks.
‘We’re going on that plane?’ Sam asked in an awed voice. ‘That is awesome.’
‘I’m glad you think so.’
As they stood in front of the jet, Malik emerged from its interior, dressed in grey trousers and a button-down shirt open at the throat. His hair was swept back from his face, his eyes dark and fathomless under the slashes of his eyebrows, his mouth unsmiling as he came down the stairs towards them. Sam inched closer to Gracie.
‘Who is that...?’ he whispered. He sounded a little fearful.
‘That’s...’ The word stuck in her throat. Why did Malik have to look so ferocious? Where was that smile now? ‘That’s my friend.’
‘Hello, Sam.’ Malik came to stand before Sam, his mouth betraying not even a hint of a smile, his gaze intent and serious.
Sam looked up at him nervously. ‘How do you know my name?’
‘Your mother told me.’ Malik was silent for a moment, his gaze searching Sam’s face. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you.’
‘Okay.’ Sam glanced at his mother uncertainly. ‘Is this your plane?’
‘Yes.’
‘Wow.’
‘Would you like to see it?’
Sam’s eyes lit up and his uncertainty fell away. ‘Yeah!’
The tension that had been knotting Gracie’s shoulder blades eased a little bit as they walked up the steps into the plane. The inside of the jet was a study in unfettered luxury, and Sam’s mouth wasn’t the only one dropping open.
He exclaimed over the deep leather sofas, the velvet throw pillows and glass coffee tables, the bowls of exotic fruit and nuts scattered around. Gracie felt as if she were in a five-star hotel suite.
‘Wow.’ She managed a smile for Malik. ‘This is amazing.’
‘It is yours to enjoy.’ Malik gestured to one of the sofas. ‘Please, make yourself comfortable. Whatever you wish for, one of the stewards will be happy to provide.’
‘Anything?’ Sam’s eyes had gone ridiculously round. In addition to two white-jacketed stewards waiting attentively with silver trays and glasses of champagne, Gracie noticed the burly security guards who stood by the now closed door. A feeling of claustrophobia clawed at her insides and she forced it away. Of course there would be guards.
‘Relax,’ Malik murmured, and he placed one hand on her arm. The feel of his