Chapter 62

Just over five months had passed since he had seen Ray and Bridget, and Dan was excited. Their flight had landed at Sharm el Sheik airport an hour and a half ago. It takes roughly and hour, by taxi, to get to Dahab and they should be arriving at his house any minute. The Egyptian sun was unforgiving to the unaccustomed visitor and Dan knew they would both be dry as the desert itself and gasping for a drink. Bern, in the kitchen, was already making a jug of fresh lemon juice and another of fresh mango in anticipation. Sitting on the cushions in the arisha, built on the roof of the house, Dan could see all the way along the sandy street to Assalah Square.

Assalah square was exactly that, a square, with a parade of shops on all four sides. It was the hub of the town and anything you could ever need was available there. It was similar to how an English village used to be before the supermarkets had eaten everything up and undercut the little businesses until they went bust. It had fruit and veg shops, a butcher, hardware, a mobile phone and internet shop, plumbing and electrical and was bustling with people day and night.

Every night in the warm open air the locals would sit on chairs around the street food vendors to watch films or football on the television and cheer as the good guy always beat the baddie. It was a real community and everybody was welcome to join in. Whether you were local or a tourist, it didn't matter, everybody was welcomed into the spirit of the evening. The first night Dan and Bern had arrived back in Assalah the big match was on. The friendly between England and Egypt. The banter flew thick and fast but, unlike football matches elsewhere, there was not one drop of blood spilt and everything was in good humour.

One road ran through the square which all traffic, be it car or camel, would use and was the route the taxi would be driving to arrive at his house. Dan always used the same taxi driver and recognised the car in the distance. Swerving to miss the numerous potholes on the sand and dirt road, it entered the square spinning up plumes of sand. Getting out of the taxi Ray paid the driver, grabbed their bags, and made their way into the garden of sand. Stopping just inside, Ray and Bridget eyed the garden and its fruit trees growing around the edge of the whitewashed walls.

"How the hell can you grow fruit trees in sand?" Ray said nudging Bridget.

Dropping their bags where they stood they, climbed the steps to the roof. As Ray met him, Dan had a grin bigger than his face should be able to make. Dan expected a huge greeting or another hug but as Ray opened his mouth, the first words he spoke made him laugh.

"I need a bloody drink," he spluttered licking his dry lips.

Ripping his shirt off, which was by now stuck to his back like glue, was the next action to take place.

"Oh it's okay for you to do that" Bridget panted "Where's my bikini top?"

Slumping onto a cushion Bern hands them both a drink. Without so much as a swallow, both glasses were empty.

"Ah that hit the spot," Bridget confessed

Finally settled, and lubricated, the greeting started.

"It's so nice to see you both," Ray said smiling "It seems so far off in the distance since we parted company"

"For you I bet it does. You two have been busy I hear. Not only have you visited, what is it now twenty, twenty one countries but you even had time to get married" Dan responds with a disgruntled but smirking huff.

"It's twenty-three actually and yes we did. Sorry you didn't get an invite but it was a spur of the moment thing. You know how it is, romantic dinner on a white sandy beach overlooking the ocean. We just got carried away."