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Chapter eleven

Mrs Boynton was here, at Petra!

Sarah couldn’t believe it. She found it hard to listen to the questions that people were asking her. Would she like dinner? Would she sleep in a tent or a cave? Sarah chose a tent, and was taken there by one of the camp servants. He wore a dirty coat and breeches, much repaired, and untidy puttees - long strips of fabric wrapped round his lower legs.

On his head he wore the local cheffiyah - a piece of cloth wrapped round his head to protect his face and neck from the sun and the desert sand.

In her tent Sarah washed her face and combed her black hair, which made her feel better. Then she stepped out into the dark night, and started to walk to the large marquee to join the others for dinner.

‘You - here?’ Sarah heard a low, amazed voice. She turned and looked straight into Raymond Boynton’s eyes. He looked so amazed and happy to see her, that Sarah was almost afraid. She would remember that look for the rest of her life.

‘You,’ Raymond said again. He looked dazed - still only half believing.

Sarah’s heart beat faster, and she felt very happy but also a little shy. Raymond came towards her and held her hand.

‘It is you,’ Raymond said. ‘It’s really you. I’ve been thinking about you so much.’ He paused. ‘I love you,’ he said, ‘I’ve loved you since I first saw you on the train. I didn’t mean to ignore you or be rude to you. It isn’t my fault - it’s my nerves. When mother tells me to do things my nerves make me do them. Please don’t hate me. I know I should behave more like a man.’

‘You will now,’ Sarah said to him. Her voice was sweet - and sure. ‘You’ll have the courage now, I know you will.’

‘Courage,’ said Raymond, standing up tall. ‘Yes, that’s what I need!’ Suddenly he kissed Sarah’s hand, and then walked away.