Today it's my stop on the blog tour for Hannah Fielding's latest book Song of the Nile which is published today. Sadly I wasn't in a position to read for review so instead I have an extract for you to read below but first a little about the book.
Luxor, 1946. When young nurse Aida El Masri returns from war-torn London to her family’s estate in Egypt she steels herself against the challenges ahead.
Eight years have passed since her father, Ayoub, was framed for a crime he did not commit, and died as a tragic result. Yet Aida has not forgotten, and now she wants revenge against the man she believes betrayed her father – his best friend, Kamel Pharaony.
Then Aida is reunited with Kamel’s son, the captivating surgeon Phares, who offers her marriage. In spite of herself, the secret passion Aida harboured for him as a young girl reignites. Still, how can she marry the son of the man who destroyed her father and brought shame on her family? Will coming home bring her love, or only danger and heartache?
Chapter 4 pages 133 - 135
The ballroom opened on to an immense walled garden, where an enormous marquee had been set up for dinner on one acre of land. Inside the marquee, a long, narrow buffet table, covered in velvet sirmas embroidered with gold thread, stretched almost out of sight. Standing behind it, suffragis wearing kaftans in the family colours of dark green and gold served guests who wandered in to sit at round tables. The tent was lit with Turkish blue mosaic drop lanterns, and beyond this pool of light the rest of the garden lay deep in shadow.
Each of the tables surrounded by delicate gilt chairs sat ten people, and were covered with silk tablecloths bought in Smyrna, hand-embroidered with gold and silver thread. They gleamed with monogrammed flatware in gold vermeil finish and fine crystal glasses rimmed with gold that bore the family’s crest, also etched in gold. At the centre of each table stood luxurious Turkish Ottoman royal glass vases dating back to the fifteenth century, etched and encrusted with crystal diamonds and gilded with gold leaf and platinum, each containing a tasteful display of yellow roses.
Having only ever attended one royal ball before, Aida had forgotten how lavishly these banquets were presented. A whole gamut of Turkish and European entrees, main courses and delicious desserts cooked to perfection were beautifully presented on trays inlaid with diamonds, the most impressive being a great model of the Cairo Citadel in ice, its doors and windows filled with caviar and with solid gold spoons to scoop it out. There were kabak mucver, zucchini puffs served with yoghurt and dill sauce; mahshi, a variety of vegetables stuffed with rice, mince and herbs; borek, filo pastry parcels of feta cheese, spinach and onion; kofta wa kabab, a mixture of chargrilled skewered meatballs and morsels of mutton. There were boned fowl of all sorts, cooked with pomegranate, spices and fennel, or stuffed with raisins, pistachio nuts and crumbled bread seasoned with herbs. Sometimes they were served in a sauce made of walnuts called sharkasieh, which Aida especially favoured. Otherwise, the lamb legs arranged on beds of pilaf rice, cooked with liver slices, currants, peanuts, chestnuts, cinnamon and a variety of herbs seemed to be very popular. Numerous dishes of veal and beef roasts surrounded by tender young vegetables perfectly braised in samna, clarified butter, also had a long line of guests queuing for them, and finally, there were yakhnees, or stews, and a wonderful array of fish dressed with sauces and aspic.
The delicious food and wine did its usual good work: tongues were loosened, eyes brightened, geniality engendered; and under the blue lamps that made conversation lingering and easy, the opulent and flamboyant scene seemed to Aida like a staged opera version of the fairy tales in One Thousand and One Nights.
Though her eyes searched for Camelia and Kamel, Aida had not been able to see them among the sea of guests, and so, after helping herself to a plate of food, she had no other alternative but to follow the prince to a table where four people were already seated: a grizzled, serene-looking Swede, a white-haired, rotund, gesticulating Italian, a girl with hair like a flame, whose slender shoulders were wrapped in a black shawl, and a moon-faced man, with steady blue eyes and a rare, beautiful smile. They all seemed to know him, and he them … yes, the prince knew a great many people, Aida thought as he carried out the introductions once again. By the looks of it, he was not only popular with women, but also with men, who had been greeting him cheerily throughout the evening and earnestly seeking his opinion about their various business ventures. Soon, two other ladies and their husbands, who it later transpired were English government officials, joined the table.
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