Chapter 26: Charlotte

In the Golden Palace Charlotte was appalled to see the women all wearing only short silk gowns which buttoned at the neck and gaped open down the front revealing most of the breasts and the whole of the belly and shaven mons. Her abaya was taken from her and she was handed over to a white woman somewhat older than herself.

"Hullo, I'm known as Ayda here, who are you?" she asked the bemused newcomer.

"My name is Charlotte. You're English?"

"Yes. My English name was Diana but my husband renamed me when we married."

"What is this place, and who are all these?" asked Charlotte.

"The is the harem of His Magnificence, the Emir Mahmoud Abdullah, may he live for ever, my husband, and these are his wives and concubines," replied Ayda, "But first things first. A hot bath, some clothes and some food, I think."

Charlotte allowed herself to be led into a bathing area and submitted to being bathed and shaved, still in a daze. When she came out of the bath she felt quite a lot better and when Ayda offered her some western clothes to wear that helped even more.

"You are the wife of the Emir?" she asked.

"One of his wives," replied Ayda, "He has two. How did you come to be here? And what would you like to eat?"

"I was captured in the war, and I have no papers so they treated me as no better than a prostitute. Then I was being sold when the Emir had me brought here instead. You say he has two wives?"

"Yes. He married my daughter as well as me."

"Your daughter?" charlotte asked, horrified, "And you put up with it, and with these ... clothes ... and being a prisoner in a harem full of..."

Her voice tailed off, overwhelmed by the prospect of being in a harem.

"Don't knock it before you know the full story," advised Ayda, "There are a lot of good points to this way of life. Do you understand the phrase 'making ends meet'? Well I did until I came here. Now I want for nothing. Sharing a husband seems natural after a while, and life here is luxurious. Let me show you what I mean. What would you like to eat?"

"What is on offer?" asked Charlotte, intrigued despite her fears and confusion.

"Anything you can think of," replied Ayda, "Just name it."

"Oh, that's easy to say," said Charlotte, thinking that bacon would be unobtainable in a Moslem country, "I haven't had a nice plate of bacon and eggs and baked beans since I left England."

"Not a problem; bread, or toast, and tea or coffee?"

"Tea please, and perhaps a fried slice?" replied Charlotte.

Ayda turned to one of the eunuchs and gave an order in Arabic.

Ten minutes later Charlotte was amazed when eggs, bacon, sausages, baked beans, fried tomatoes, and mushrooms arrived, topped with two slices of fried bread. It smelled delicious, and very English. A silver teapot with milk and sugar accompanied this feast, and she fell to the food with a will, with tears of homesickness welling in her eyes.

"What do you have to do to live like this?" she asked as she finished the meal.

"The Emir will explain, but if you stay here, you will do nothing in particular most of the time, but if he wants you, you just do as you are told and at least pretend that you like it," said Ayda cryptically.

Just then the Chief Eunuch came up to them and said to Ayda, "Princess, the Master wants her Highness in the anteroom."

Charlotte looked round to see who might be the 'Highness' to whom he was referring.

"Go on then. Go with him," said Ayda.

"You are really a Princess?" asked Charlotte.

Ayda shrugged her shoulders and commented, "It's only a word, and you are a Highness," adding under her breath as Charlotte was led away, "for the moment."

Investigating her background had been easy. General Mustapha had a list of all the foreign nationals who had died or been captured, and Thomas Harrison was listed as having been killed accidentally during the fight for the hydro-electric power station. His next of kin was listed as a wife in England whose name was Mary, and his body had been returned to England. All this had been explained to the Emir before he ordered her to be brought into the harem anteroom for him to decide what was to happen to her.

"What am I to do with you?" he asked her, somewhat rhetorically.

"May I stay here, please, Your Majesty? I really have nowhere to go," Charlotte replied.

"I am aware of that," said the Emir, "Since the man you claim was your husband is being mourned back in England by another woman, Mary, who really is his wife."

"He loved me. He was going to divorce her and marry me," she protested.

"But he had not done so, had he?" the Emir pointed out, "In point of fact, she knows nothing of your existence, does she?"

Charlotte looked at him and seemed about to cry again.

"If you stay here, instead of being returned to the square to be sold, it will be in my harem," he continued, "And I really mean in my harem, not as a visitor but as a concubine."

"I couldn't..." she sobbed again.

"Very well. I'll arrange for you to go back to the auctioneer today."

She stared at him as the full horror of her position sank in, and really did burst out crying.

Sinking to the floor she hugged his legs and sobbed, "Not that. Not again."

"Stop that noise now," ordered the Emir, "And stand up."

When she had gathered herself together and was standing before him in abject misery he started again.

"You have no papers and no legitimate place in England as the mistress of a dead man. Here you will be in some harem or other. You could be in mine if you are prepared to obey me."

"What would I have to do?" she asked, "There isn't much I can do, except cook a little."

"No actual work is involved," said the Emir, "Just obedience to my wishes."

"I'll try, Your Majesty. I really will."

"The first thing is that I am addressed as Master, not Majesty. Can you remember that?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good. Now strip."

"What?"

"Do you not understand your own language? Strip! Undress? Remove your clothes?"

"Here? In front of these..." she waved her hand to where a gaggle of concubines and eunuchs were watching the proceedings with interest.

"Last chance. If you don't obey even a simple order like that you will definitely be sold."

Slowly she removed the summer dress that Ayda had lent her and stood in a borrowed brassière and knickers before him. One look from him was enough; she unclipped the brassière and her breasts drooped out onto the top of her belly; the knickers followed the brassière to the floor and it was revealed that she had been shaved during her stay in the harem. The Emir lifted his kameez and offered her his prick.