Loretta of the Lamp - The Fallout

Enobia

She slept so well it surprised her when she was woken by one of the women the following morning and taken to the hammam for the first of the wedding rituals she was due. She remembered stories from long ago in a barely observed history class where the teacher spoke of Cleopatra the Grecian-Egyptian Queen, bathing in a pool of milk on a regular basis, and that it had been a viper hidden beneath the opaque waters that had finally sealed her doom.

There were no vipers hidden in her bath waters, but the experience of bathing in milk was not one that she hoped to repeat any time soon. The milk was lukewarm and smelt funny, and it clung to her skin in a thin layer when she stepped out of the tub. She was only too happy to be stripped of it when they finally washed her down and massaged fragrant oil into her skin. From that point the rituals seemed endless, there were gifts that arrived every few hours from different personages within the palace, and without. She received Berber jewellery from high in the Atlas mountains, young camels gifted by traders passing through the city in the trains from the Sahara, linen and dresses from the women in the harem, and artisan gifts from the different guilds of craftsmen in the medina.

To withdraw further into herself was easy. She shut everyone out and nodded blankly, forcing a wooden smile in thanks for every gift given to her.

When Sameh did not come to get her the first evening, she was not concerned, he had not come on the odd occasion before, and some nights he had extra duty which meant he could not come. It was only on the third night, two days before her wedding to the Sultan, that Loretta finally became restlessly worried as to where he was. She had no seen him in the harem anywhere, and not that she would ever admit it to anyone, she had actually gone searching for him. She knew the routes through the palace well enough now and though she was confident she had searched every route she knew, there was no sign to be seen of him. So that evening, long after midnight, and after he would normally have come to pick her up, she stole out of her room by herself, and trekked her way through the darkness and down the route she had learned to the place where she and Sameh had trained. She sat there in the timber courtyard until the darkness paled into dawn, but still Sameh did not come.

The following day was the day for henna. Loretta gave up fighting and allowed her bare hands and feet to be painted with the black henna. It was a beautiful art form, and in another time Loretta knew that her sixteen year old self would probably have been delighted to be decorated with the intricate and delicate designs. She distantly could have imagined herself and Jess having their hands covered in henna, perhaps getting it done in one of the Green Street markets in east London, or imagining that if her father had still been alive he would have taken her and Claudia and their mother on a trip to Morocco one day, or to India or somewhere else exotic.

But that life had never happened. And here she was with bridal henna tattooed onto her hands and feet, and up her arms while she was forced to sit and wait for it to dry, while women fed her dates and tiny pastries dipped in butter and honey. She swallowed because she had no choice, and she felt like she would vomit, but somehow it stayed down, and the henna dried, and finally the party was over and she could return to her bed.

She did not see the Sultan at all. Not until the day of her wedding. Nor did she see Sameh again, and the strength that his friendship had given her dissipated away more every night, leaving behind a girl that cried herself to sleep clutching a little fruit knife that wasn't long enough to stab a heart.

The morning of the wedding she was taken to bathe, and when she came back, the knife was no longer in the place where she left it between her mattresses. Unable to react with all the women around her, she dropped her hand back down to her side and allowed them to dress her in the white embroidered kaftan that was to be her wedding dress. Earrings, jewellery and make up followed. A cream shawl for her hair and long golden pins to hold it in place. Golden beaded slippers with a heel in them, made perfectly to fit her feet. Lastly a cloak to go over her dress for her to wear on her way to the wedding ceremony.