Page 21 of You Lied First
‘Yay! Road trip!’ Celine and Sara cheer and clink their glasses, and Margot turns away. Course you did, she thinks. Course you bloody did.
17
SARA
The cabs drop us on the corniche outside a shop selling Omani silver. I see necklaces, bangles, coffee pots and daggers glinting in the bright lights of the window and wonder if the souk takes Apple Pay. I don’t have a lot of Omani riyals on me. I didn’t even think that I might need cash. Around us, the shops offer up carpets, silks, textiles, handicrafts, gifts and ‘treasures’. Liv’s already peering at the handicrafts shop while Celine is pointing out something to Flynn. I notice some of the men around giving Liv more than an appreciative glance and I’m glad she’s not in one of her tiny skirts.
Guy slings an arm around my shoulders.
‘Right, my lady,’ he says. ‘Are you ready for an adventure?’
‘The main entrance is over there.’ Celine nods towards a spot down the street.
Guy cocks his head at her. ‘We’re not tourists, Leen. This isn’t our first rodeo! Let’s live a bit!’
He ushers us up a narrow alleyway between two shops and it’s like entering another world: crooked alleyways that divide off each other, the backs of buildings, vibrating air conditioning units, secret courtyards, overhanging rooftops, wiry cats beneath our feet, the occasional stench of rubbish,tiny stairways, and shopfronts piled with Indian and Arabic clothing, sandals and fabrics. Even though it’s striking, I’m a little disappointed – it’s not really the shopping that I expected. But then we pass through that area and the shops morph into jewellery stores with heavy gold pieces glimmering behind glass windows. Alongside sets and trays of bangles and necklaces, I see a piece that would cover your entire chest in shimmering gold.
‘Keep walking!’ Guy says, throwing a glance over his shoulder. ‘The moment you stop, you’ll be sucked in, and before you know it, you’ll be re-mortgaging your house. This shit’s all real.’
He takes a turn and leads us down another narrow alley past shops selling stacks of the hats the Omani men wear. Laughing, Celine grabs one and jumps up to shove it on Guy’s head. The shop assistant immediately appears, offering prices and deals for multiple purchase, but Guy hands it back, apologising, and we continue into an area that eventually opens out into more of what I imagined the souk would be like. The pathways are wider and there are multiple shops selling the sort of things that look like they’ll be more in my budget. My eye catches a clutch of tinkling silver wind chimes shaped like camels, but there’s everything you could imagine in every shop: brass, silver, pashminas, clothes, bags, home ornaments, Aladdin’s lamps, carvings, walking sticks, plates, coffee pots – even a suit of armour – plus the cloying smell ofoudand incense. It’s a sensory overload. I wouldn’t know where to begin.
Guy stops to the side of a central area, off which five or more alleyways run. All around us are shops and swarms of people.
‘Right, this is the main part,’ he says. ‘Are you looking for anything in particular?’
‘Oh, just browsing, I think,’ I say. ‘This is just …’
‘Too much?’ Guy asks.
‘Exactly.’ We exchange a smile.
‘I want a tote and I’d love to look at beaded necklaces,’ Liv says, pointing to a shop where clusters of necklaces in every colour, length and size hang from the ceiling. She seems oblivious to the looks she’s getting from men all around.
‘I want to look at the fake trainers,’ Flynn says. Celine is lifting up pashminas outside the shop next door.
‘La, la, la, best price. Last price. Not tourist price! I live here,’ I hear her telling the shop assistant.
‘Well, this looks like a good place,’ Guy says, so we enter the shop and disperse as we look around. The shop is crowded, the ceiling is low with things hanging from it and there’s just too much for me to focus on any one thing. I wander around aimlessly, picking up old coins and silver trinket boxes, feeling the beading of necklaces and peering at framed scorpions and hairy spiders as big as my hand as I dodge other customers reaching for treasures hanging above my head.
‘Boo!’ Guy says, appearing next to me. He stands close, and I can feel the heat of him. ‘What have you found?’
‘Nothing really. But I wouldn’t mind looking at some wind chimes I saw on the way here.’
‘Come on then,’ he says, so I ask Celine if she’ll stay with Liv and Flynn, and Guy and I wander over to a shop with wind chimes hanging outside. I start examining them, trying to picture them in my house, and trying out the tones of all the chimes and, when I finally feel I’ve selected the right one, I look around for Guy but he’s not there.
‘You like?’ an assistant asks me. ‘This one?’ He picks itfrom the display and holds it lovingly, as if I’ve selected the golden ticket. ‘Beautiful!’ He jangles it and cocks his ear. ‘You want? Where you from? America? Only one hundred riyal for you! Special price!’ He laughs, revealing gleaming teeth.
I smile nervously and look again for Guy but I can’t see him. As far as I can work out, with my panicky mental maths, the man’s just asked for about two hundred pounds. Did I make a mistake? Is this one of those shops where everything is solid gold?
‘Okay, I do you deal, only fifty for you!’ The man laughs again, his eyes sparkling.
‘It’s nice, but I don’t know,’ I say. Margot had said we’d have to haggle, but I can’t do it. Even if I offer half of what he’s asking, it’s too much. ‘It’s fine, I’ll leave it.’ I turn to walk away, disappointment slugging in my chest.
‘Okay, lady! I make joke. Ten riyals!’
I pause. That’s about twenty quid, give or take. I’m about to say yes but I picture myself regaling the story to Margot later and turn back to him. ‘Eight?’
The man clutches his chest like I’ve murdered his child, then says, ‘Okay. For you, just this one time, special price.’ He’s wrapping it for me before I’ve managed to ask about Apple Pay, but he brings over a card machine and it works. I swing the bag as I make my way back to where I can finally see Guy standing in the central area.
