Chapter 10: Dessert

When they were comfortably ensconced in the sitting room with liqueurs and coffee, the Emir took up the topic of the possible contract again.

"Another thing I wonder about is whether the Royal Flight of Air Kobekistani needs seven super jumbo jets and a purpose built Concorde just so that I can get from A to B? Might it not be more use to give the Concorde to my Air Force to use? I hate it because it feels cramped after the jumbos and I don't like arriving before I have left, if you see what I mean. They did suggest that one of the new hypersonic sub-orbitals would get me round the world even faster, but I have no wish to arrive in London two hours before I leave Kobekistan."

Emboldened by the wine, Derek said, "I don't think giving the Concorde to the Air Force would be suitable, sir. It is difficult to see what they would use it for. Concorde is too small to be a useful transport plane, and too slow to be a fighter aircraft, or so I understand. If you don't use it, it would be better to sell it, if a buyer could be found."

"Oh, I expect one of the East African dictators would like it. That's settled then, and you are not even working for me yet. As to those details, I will pay you three times your UK salary and expected bonus, in any currency you like, tax free, and provide a suitable house for you."

Derek's astonishment at this offer was quickly overtaken by the sight of an obviously European woman, he guessed a few years older than himself, who came in with three children. He sprang to his feet as she smiled at him. She was wearing what appeared to be a short silk dressing gown which had no buttons, but was loosely held together by a belt. This did nothing to conceal her shaved mons and pink slit, nor did it hide much of her full breasts.

"Ah, Alima, come in and meet my friend Derek Pullman," said the Emir, "This is one of my wives, the Princess Alima and our children."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," said Derek, bowing.

"Hi," said Alima, "Call me Susan; all our English guests do."

"Do sit down, we are quite informal in here. Alima is English and I asked her to come in to show that I have not forgotten my English heritage and upbringing," commented the Emir.

He kissed each of the children and bade them good-night. They were escorted away by the eunuchs and Alima knelt by her husband's feet and looked up at him.

"Am I to stay with you tonight, Master?" she asked.

"Yes, my dear," he replied, "but can you suggest someone for Derek? He speaks good Arabic so that isn't a problem."

"Anyone, or... ?"

"Anyone," the Emir said.

Turning to Derek, Alima asked, "What do you fancy. Blonde, brunette, redhead? Arab, European or Asian? Plump or thin? Young or mature?"

"Sir, I don't quite understand," Derek started.

"It's late. I assume you will stay the night and we can sort out any details over breakfast," the Emir explained.

"He is offering you the choice of any of his harem," Alima added, "to keep you warm tonight."

Derek was literally speechless. This was a generosity far beyond anything he had ever imagined.

"I suggest Tahira, though she is far from pure or innocent despite her name, and is half Russian, and my husband's daughter," she said, "Unless you think he would like Ayda, darling?"

"Oh, both, I suppose," said the Emir, and added by way of explanation, "Ayda is Alima's mother, and another of my wives."

Standing up he smiled at the thunderstruck young accountant and said, "Well, we're off to bed."

With that he and Alima went through a small door at the back of the sitting room and Derek was left to wonder whether he was dreaming, or whether he had misunderstood, or whether he had really been offered two of the Emir's harem, including one of his wives, for the night.