Chapter 2: College

His reception at Heathrow was suitably low key, with the Ambassador greeting him, a little over-familiarly he thought, with a handshake. Obeisance in Heathrow VIP lounge might have been a little ostentatious, but a bow would have been more seemly. Still, he could deal with minor problems when he got back to London from Oxford. The police seemed to want to provide him with a full escort of outriders, but he persuaded them that this was quite unnecessary. Then he dismissed most of the retinue and went off to Oxford accompanied only by Kamal Qumsiyeh, his Head of Protocol; Hajji Kofi Natsheh, his Diplomatic Advisor; the Ambassador; the Ambassador's wife in an abaya; and his own bodyguards. When they arrived in Oxford, the Ambassador seemed disappointed to be told to return to London, and that he would not be needed at dinner. The Ambassador's wife tried to speak to him, but naturally he ignored her, thinking the Ambassador should have trained her better. The idea that a Kobekistani woman, Western born or not, should attempt to speak to any man, let alone the Emir, when she had not been spoken to, was really such bad manners.

At the college, he was the subject of many different reactions; wearing the suit he had worn some two months earlier when he left the college, he was greeted by the porter with a familiar, "Good evening, Mr. Ransome," which was followed by a strangled gulp as the porter remembered that this was now the Emir of Kobekistan.

His scout said, "Hullo, Mr. Ransome. I haven't seen you about for a while. Are you keeping well?"

That elicited a friendly reply of, "I've been away," since that particular old gentleman had clearly never heard of Kobekistan, or of his inheritance.

Others bowed as he passed, still others simply stared.

He went up to his rooms and quickly decided what he wanted to take to Kobekistan and what could be left. One of the bodyguards was told off to pack, and the Emir changed into his formal and academic, a dinner jacket with a graduate gown, for dinner. When he was ready he wandered over to the Hall and into the SCR, where his arrival caused a flurry among some of his former academic superiors who had evidently been discussing him. The Master came forward and greeted him as an honoured guest. The Emir lost no time in discomfiting a man he had always considered at best a doddering old fool, and at worst a charlatan.

"Master, it is I who should be paying my respects. After all I am probably the most junior member of this SCR present today."

"Nonsense, Ransome, ... err ... Emir; it is our privilege to have you here and bearing good news I understand."

The Emir looked blankly at the Master and continued, "I see you have arranged a typically dreary sample of Oxford weather for me, Master."

Just as the Master decided it was a joke, and prepared to laugh, the gong sounded and they all trooped into hall where the Emir was seated next to the Master at High Table. The Master expressed surprise that he was not wearing what he referred to as 'traditional Kobekistani dress'.

"When in Rome," said the Emir, "and when you are with us for dinner at the Golden Palace you shall try our formal dress of shalwar kameez and our servants shall be dressed in our traditional way, much as these College servants are dressed in the British tradition, as nineteen-twenties Lyons' Cornerhouse Nippies."

"Are these, ahem, servants from your seraglio, what is your traditional way to dress them?" asked the Master.

The Emir decided to tease him a little, "The men wear trousers a little like Plus Fours and are naked above the waist. The women wear only an abaya."

"That is a garment with which I am not familiar," said the Master, obviously keenly interested to hear about this exotic, and presumably revealing form of female costume since that was the sole garment.

The Emir leant back in his chair and whispered something to his bodyguard, who left the room, returning moments later with someone wearing the completely enveloping abaya which left only the eyes visible.

"That's an abaya, Master," said the Emir and smiled at the man's disappointment, knowing that the occupant of the abaya had to be another male, as there were no Kobekistani females left in the party and none of the college women would have been willing to wear one. He waved the pair away and the bodyguard resumed his post.

"After we have eaten dinner in the Golden Palace, the entertainers come in and join the men who have dined," he added, "They, of course, are adorned, but not covered. Honoured guests are allowed the freedom of the seraglio after the formal proceedings are over."

It was gratifying to see the old man's eyes light up at the thought of experiencing heaven alone knew what delights in an Emir's harem.