Chapter 21: Pauline

The Emir took the Embassy Rolls-Royce and Maktum, and went to Oxford where he returned to his old college and met several old friends from his student days. During his three day stay at the Randolph, where he booked in as David Ransome, he intended also to make inquiries about his old girlfriend, Pauline.

Many of the people he knew from college had moved on in the half a decade since his previous visit, and the Master of the College in his time there had retired. On learning that the Emir was in the college, the new Master sounded him out about an Honorary Doctorate and the Emir was graciously pleased to accept, leaving the details to be worked out later.

"Who is the Amelia Ransome Professor of Topology?" asked the Emir, having endowed that particular Chair on his accession and named it for his mother.

"Oh that is Professor Alan Jones. I believe you knew him in your time here," replied the Master, "I expect you'll find him in the Library."

After exchanging greetings with his old friend, the Emir asked, "What happened to Pauline? Did she ever marry old Bollington?"

"Yes, and her baby was born six months after the wedding, so it must have been conceived before she came back from visiting you. I believe she is still living in his house. He died, you know, three years ago, and left her comfortably off."

Alan seemed uncertain as to whether a young wife had tired her elderly husband to death, or whether his liver had given up the struggle with his alcohol consumption. Then the conversation turned to topology and the Emir quickly realised how much it is possible to forget in five years. They had a pleasant dinner at the Randolph and parted vowing to keep in touch in future.

"You must come and visit me," said the Emir and Alan agreed, while both of them mentally reserved judgement on the advisability of such an undertaking.

The next morning the Emir knocked on the door of the old house in the Woodstock Road and Pauline answered the door.

"Good God!" was her reaction when she recognised her visitor.

"No, I haven't been promoted yet. I'm still only the Emir," he replied.

Seated in the comfortable sitting-room he asked, "You are looking well, if a little harassed. How have you been, and how is my son?"

"Your daughter is well, and at school at the moment," Pauline answered, "It hasn't been easy with my husband dying and trying to bring her up alone."

"Will you let me help?" asked the Emir.

"By offering us both a place in your harem, I suppose?" she asked bitterly.

"No, my dear, we both know that would not work, and I think neither of us would wish it. I thought a very discreet monthly payment into your bank would help though."

At that Pauline burst into tears. The Emir did his best to comfort her and when she had calmed down a little he asked, "Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?"

"I wasn't sure when I came to that horrible palace, but I thought I was. At first I couldn't find a suitable moment, and later I was afraid you wouldn't let me go home if I said anything."

"Let me have your bank details and I'll arrange for a regular payment until ... What is her name?"

"Elinor."

"Until Elinor is twenty-one," he offered.

"I won't say it wouldn't come in useful, but I don't want her to know that my husband was not her father. I especially don't want her to know that she is the daughter of an Emir with a harem of hundreds."

"Hardly hundreds," he protested, "but I'm sure we can arrange a payment regularly."

"If I accept will you promise me, as David Ransome, that you will never try to contact her or me again?"

"If that is what you want. I was very fond of you, and I would have married you, you know."

"Yes, you had your mother propose to me in Kobekistan, remember?" The bitterness was back in her voice.

"I'll go now," he said, "and I promise. Will £10,000 be enough?"

"Ten thousand a year, that would help a lot," she answered, "And I am grateful, though I never would have asked."

"I know. And I meant every month, not every year."

"David, no. I couldn't accept that much."

"Well I'll do something, anyway," he promised.

"You had better go now. I have to fetch her for lunch soon."

Pauline stood up and the Emir made to leave. At the door she turned and kissed him hard on the lips.

"I loved you," she confessed, "I will always love you, but I hate what happened to you. Why couldn't we have been poor and happy?"

He felt there was nothing he could say to that. To profess undying love for her would have been a lie, but he had been fond of her, and he wondered about his daughter's future.