The Lost Letter from Morocco. Adrienne Chinn

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ to a pool of clear water fed by mini-waterfalls. Addy peers down the river towards sun-baked canyon walls in the distance and sees half a dozen pools, feeding lazily into each other, veiled by pink oleander bushes and branches of the old olive trees on the riverbanks. The freshness of the early morning has succumbed to a dry heat and sweat trickles down her neck. She fans herself with her hat.

      Omar leans her tripod against the grey trunk of an olive tree and leaps onto a rock in the pool.

      ‘Everybody, it’s very, very hot even if it’s not summer yet. So, you can swim if you would like. We will stay here thirty minutes. It’s very safe, no problem. The water is very clean. Enjoy.’

      The older tourists roll up their trousers and Bermuda shorts and wade cautiously into the water. The Spanish students strip off their clothes in a burst of Latin enthusiasm, revealing surfing shorts and bikinis. They clamber across the rocks to the mini-waterfalls and leap into the pool, screaming as they slam into the cold water. The girls are tanned and slim in their bikinis. Addy runs her hand along the waist of her jeans, conscious of her white skin and the roundness of her belly, hips and breasts under her clothes.

      Omar laughs and shouts at the Spanish boys as he unwinds his tagelmust. He jumps back to the riverbank and loops the blue cloth around Addy’s waist.

      ‘So, I capture you, Adi.’ He leans over and plants a quick kiss on her lips.

      A Spanish boy shouts out a catcall. Omar answers him in Spanish, putting off the boy’s timing, and he belly-flops into the pool. The boy’s friends erupt into peals of glee.

      ‘What did he say?’

      ‘He say I am a robber of the ladies. I tell him I am the robber of one lady only.’ Omar laughs. ‘I tell him he have to make a good dive because all the Spanish ladies watch him. So, he is nervous and he made a bad dive.’

      The students’ carefree spirits are infectious and Addy ignores the alarm going off in her head.

      ‘What are you going to do now that you’ve trapped me? Carry me off?’

      ‘It’s so, so hot, darling. There’s no way for me to carry you.’

      ‘Maybe you’d like one of the Spanish girls instead. They’ve been eyeing you.’

      ‘I don’t mind for Spanish ladies.’ Omar drapes the tagelmust around them like a blanket and slides his hand under Addy’s T-shirt, cupping her right breast. He runs his fingers over the lace of her bra and expels a whisper of breath. ‘Come with me, Adi.’

      For a moment they stare at each other. Addy drapes the blue cloth around her shoulders.

      ‘Where are we going?’

      ‘To be alone, darling. We can swim.’

      ‘I didn’t bring a swimsuit.’

      ‘Mashi mushkil. You can wear your underwear. It’ll dry quick in the sun. No one will see. It’s a private place.’

      He leads Addy along the riverbank until they reach a flat rock jutting into a quiet pool. It’s hidden from view of the others by a screen of oleander bushes. He pulls off his blue gown and white T-shirt. His faded Levis cling to his hips. His naked chest is lean like a swimmer’s, tanned to the colour of milky coffee.

      Addy lifts the camera strap from around her neck and sets the camera down on a rock, covering it with her straw hat. She begins to undo her belt, but Omar brushes her hands away.

      ‘It is for me to do it.’

      He unfastens the belt and discards it on the riverbank. Slowly, he peels off her jeans, running his hands over her body as her skin is revealed to the sun. She stops him as he is about to lift her T-shirt over her head.

      ‘I think I’ll keep this on, if you don’t mind.’ She ties the T-shirt into a knot under her bra.

      He smiles, his teeth gleaming against his brown skin. ‘As you like, Adi. Anyway, it’s better to imagine. It’s more spicy.’

      Omar shrugs out of his jeans and sandals until he wears only red jockey shorts, which cling to the contours of his body. He climbs over rocks to the top of the cascade feeding the pool. He looks over at Addy to see that she’s watching, then he executes a perfect dive into the centre of the pool.

      Addy scans the surface of the pool, waiting for his head to surface.

      ‘Omar?’ She searches for a sign – bubbles on the pool’s mirror-like surface, the gleam of skin under the water. ‘Omar?’

      His hands grab her ankles. He surfaces, spouting water.

      ‘You been worried, weren’t you, darling? I watched you underneath the water.’

      Addy splashes his face with water. ‘I was worried about how I was going to get the tourists back to the village if you drowned.’

      ‘That’s not nice.’ He pulls at her ankles and she loses her balance, splashing into the pool. She surfaces next to him, spewing water and blinking.

      ‘Bastard! I’ve got contact lenses.’

      ‘What you say?’

      She slaps the water, spraying Omar’s face. ‘Bastard.’

      ‘It’s rude, Adi.’ He dives underneath.

      Addy treads water, scanning the surface for where he’ll reappear. The tight wool of his head brushes between her legs. He slides up the front of her body, running his lips over her naked belly as he rises to the surface.

      He bursts through the water, gasping. ‘I forgot to breathe, darling. I wanted to stay to kiss you under the water and I lost my air.’

      Addy reaches her arms around his neck and folds her legs around his body. He leans his head back, closing his eyes as she kisses her way across his neck. His hand cups her head and he kisses her. She’s hungry, ravenous, wanting to taste him, to devour him, until there’s no Addy and no Omar. Only their essences, together, in a pool of water under the hot Moroccan sun.

      ‘Alli estan!’

      A gigantic splash. And another.

      Addy pushes away from Omar. The Spanish students have found them.

      Omar slaps the water. ‘Habss. It’s a place for us to be private. Not to have people here.’

      Addy swims to a rock by the riverbank and heaves herself out of the water. Her heart’s racing. She wipes the dripping water from her eyes. She’d almost made a huge mistake.

      Omar swims over to her, but she’s already pulling on her jeans.

      ‘Fuckers,’ Omar says, gesturing rudely at the laughing students. ‘I’m so sorry, darling. I wanted to make a special day for you. I knew you would love it here.’

      ‘It’s okay.’ She unties the knot in her T-shirt and twists it to wring out the water.

      He hoists himself up onto the rock. ‘Wait, darling.’

      She СКАЧАТЬ