did,’ Adele said. ‘I don’t know whether I should take it. I don’t know what’s in it.’
Zahir smiled and when he did, her stomach turned into a gymnast, because it didn’t just somersault, it felt as it was tumbling over and over.
‘Do you have it with you?’ he asked, for he knew how things worked and that a potion should be carried by the recipient and kept at body temperature.
She nodded and went into her robe and handed over the vial.
He read the intricate writing that she could not understand.
‘It’s fine to drink, though just a sip morning and night,’ Zahir told her. ‘Do you know, my father and I were just talking and he pointed out that both Dakan and I have never been ill? He is right. I remember when I was studying medicine and I joined the rugby team. I strained my shoulder. I was new in London and I was surprised that they strapped it and suggested pain and anti-inflammatory medication. I ended up at a Chinese herbalist.’
‘Did it help?’
‘Yes,’ Zahir said. ‘It did.’
He had returned to Mamlakat Almas so gung-ho and demanding yet he could see the rapid improvement in his mother and he was quietly pleased that the healer had taken some time for Adele also.
She carried pain.
Emotional pain.
It was something he could both see and feel and something modern medicine had little room for.
He had seen it when he had shone the torch into her eyes, but he had expected to see it then. She had been hit after all. But the pain he had seen wasn’t acute.
It was chronic.
Layer upon layer of pain.
He could only imagine his colleagues’ reactions if he had written that in his notes.
‘I am just going to look at the site for the new hospital.’
‘Are the plans going well?’
‘No,’ Zahir admitted. ‘Would you like to join me?’
‘Is it allowed?’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘If the hospital goes ahead we would need nurses. Why wouldn’t I seek your opinion?’
He was giving her the same explanation he would give his father. The truth was, he wanted some time with her.
It had been a long week, knowing that she was here and wondering how she was doing but being unable to enquire.
* * *
It was lovely to be out with Zahir.
He drove the car through ancient, dusty streets and then through a very modern city, at least in part.
There was an eclectic mix of ancient and modern. The most fashionable boutiques were housed in ancient buildings and there were locals and tourists, bikes and old cars along with sports cars and stretch limousines. Then there were towering modern hotels.
‘We have everything but a workable health system,’ Zahir told her. ‘We have a good education system yet our best brains travel overseas to study medicine and few want to work back here once they have.’
They drove a little further and came to a small, rundown-looking building.
‘This is the medical centre,’ he explained.
They walked in and he spoke with a nervous receptionist who quickly summoned someone, a young woman, who showed them through the facility.
There was some very basic equipment and an occasional gleaming piece of machinery.
‘Dakan and I bought these defibrillators last year. The trouble is, we need to train people in their use. It is a multi-faceted problem. This is the theatre...’
They stepped in and Adele could see why the Queen would seek treatment elsewhere.
‘What do you see happening?’ Adele asked. ‘Tear it down and start again?’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘This building should be the gateway to the new, though that is not my idea...’ He led her through and they walked outside. The heat hit them like an open oven door and, in contrast to the busy street at the front, to the rear there was a vast expanse of nothing and they looked out to the desert.
‘Like most cities, it is overcrowded and there is a clamour for space, yet this land had been held back for generations. The architects and advisors of the time knew that the city would one day need more room. I cannot build anything, though, without the King’s approval. I want a facility that incorporates both traditional and modern medicine. I want them combined.’
‘It would be amazing,’ Adele said. ‘What about the healers? Would they agree?’
‘We are all healers,’ Zahir said. ‘It is time to put ego aside and to exchange knowledge and respect each other’s ways. It was the palace healer who suggested my mother seek treatment elsewhere.’
They walked through the building and out to the car.
‘I should get you back,’ Zahir said.
He made absolutely no reference to the two of them and she looked out of the car window at a large sun in a pink sky. ‘I’d love to see the desert.’
‘I will see that it is arranged,’ Zahir said.
They both knew that it wasn’t what she had meant.
She’d wanted to know if he had sought solutions about them, but more than that she wanted to go to the desert with him.
IT REALLY WAS a wonderful, relaxing time.
In the morning Adele and Leila would swim gently and then lie on their backs in the healing water and talk.
Adele was now taking the tonic that the attar had prepared and she had never slept better. She was starting to awake refreshed, instead of wanting to pull the covers over her head and go back to sleep.
Sometimes she would see Zahir and they would walk on the beach or go for a drive.
They spoke about things but not about them, and though she ached to know if there was any progress or hope for them, she was also grateful that they didn’t discuss it. It meant she could meet Leila’s eyes when she returned.
One afternoon, as she and Zahir walked on the beach, Adele looked over at the glittering palace.
‘How come it’s called Diamond Palace when there are so many other stones?’
He didn’t answer her.
‘Zahir?’
‘When
