Prince Ali, Amorous He

“Alistair Green... Your team arrived three hours ago," the hotel receptionist said as he looked up his screen. “Your colleague, Harry, said -” 

“That's fine, I spoke to him.” Ali hinted at his key - that trip had exhausted him, and he was in no mood for details.

As he pressed the lift button, Ali realised he had forgotten his luggage at the reception desk. He went back and grabbed it from the floor, avoiding the mocking eyes of the receptionist. What he needed was a month of sleep, not a ski trip.

Ali rolled from side to side in his bed. Snow glittered in the night outside and the mint walls of his room, in contrast, looked grim. Another insomnia he'd dedicate to Mann's Magic Mountain, he thought. Ali felt the night table for the lamp switch and pressed it a few times in vain. He sighed and slipped out of the bed.

The clock ticked above the empty reception desk as Ali awaited. The wind was blowing outside and white particles swirled around the building. Ali rang the desk bell again.

"No spa at 3am," a voice behind him said. 

Ali turned around. A woman was standing in the hall behind him. Wet flakes dotted her hair and her duffle coat as if she had just returned from a night walk in the forest.

"I know this is not the spa." Ali sneered.

"Why that bathrobe then?"

Ali realised he had left his room in his bathrobe and bare feet. The woman laughed and Ali closed his eyes - he should have never left London.

*

"Told you." Harry, the second partner at Ali's law firm said, pouring honey over his muesli. "Joel, where's my money?"

"You bet I'd miss the plane?" Ali asked, gaping alternatively at Harry and Joel, their junior team member.

"I expected another Freudian slip from you and, as ever," Harry fetched the bills Joel handed him, "you did not disappoint."

“Let's be clear: I missed the plane yesterday because my meeting overran," Ali said.

“Your meeting? On a Sunday evening?”

The team around the breakfast table bursted out laughing.

Ali rolled his eyes and dove back into Mann's novel. As he sipped his rooibos tea, he wondered if, truly, none of them had realised that week was the first anniversary of his divorce with Sara. He didn't mind them mocking his oblivion but that anniversary turning him into a shadow of his former self drove him insane.

"I bet you'd catch the plane," Joel, the junior lawyer said sitting closer to him. "Did you bring all your watches to ski?" he asked, his eyes shining over Ali's elegant wrist.

"How'd you expect me to walk around?" Ali said, half-flattered, half-amused.

"In your bathrobe?" a voice whispered in his back.

Ali turned around and recognised her duffle coat. She beamed at him and Ali smiled back, without knowing why. But as she walked out of the restaurant, he realised he had seen her face before.

"Ali, the client wants an update." Harry said, typing on his phone. "If he asks stupid questions again, I swear I'll - "

"I bet you will." Ali replied as he followed Harry to the meeting room upstairs.

Ali was a skilled communicator when it came to career. With females, it was different. Or so he had learnt from his story with Sara. And, perhaps, because that story was on the back of his mind that morning, Ali failed to convince the client. Harry hit his head silently on the cherrywood table as the client asked them, over the phone, to send him complementary documents by the next evening.

"I saw it coming," Harry said as they left the meeting room, "Well, we can still ski today and start working tomorrow."

Ali got lost in the green and grey dots scattered along the mountains outside as they walked through corridors. He nodded to the intonations of Harry's voice, without listening. They walked past Klimt-like gold and blue paintings and Ali recalled those Sara had taken away with her.

"Look at that." Harry said as they stepped into the glass gateway above the hotel pool. Old people agitated their arms and swung in the water to disco music. "I don't want to end up like that, Ali. That is just... Oh. The one in red, though. She's cute."

Ali looked at the jumping figures attentively. Amidst waves, bubbles and wrinkled faces, a fit silhouette stood out indeed. Her smile made Ali smile. What was she doing with old people? Ali glued his nose to the glass to look closer - again, the duffle coat woman. He had definitely met her before.

"What's that song?" Ali asked, still watching her.

"The song they're jumping to?" Harry said typing on his phone. "Dalida, no? J'entendrai or something. Ah no, wait." He looked up. "J'attendrai. Means I'll be waiting."

*

The team spoke and laughed in the ski lift while the winter sun caressed Ali's cheeks. His phone vibrated and Sara's divorce lawyer name appeared on the screen. What did he want from him again? Ali pushed the phone into his pocket and turned his head towards the window. The landscape had turned blank outside. Just like the sky.

The wind howled in Ali's ears at the top of the slope. His chest was still constricted from seeing Sara's lawyer's name. Someone whistled the Dalida song behind him and Ali turned around hastily. It wasn't the cheerful woman. That someone was grey, nothing like her light-heartedness. Ali looked up the song and adjusted his headphones. Pressed his poles tight, swung slightly backwards to catch momentum and jumped. Freshness brushed his cheeks as he slid. Dalida rolled her rs and snow crunched under his skis, as he bent forward, he started to smile. And his chest started to ease.

*

"Sign here, please. Down here."

Ali couldn't see his face, only the pen and paper his hairy hands held in front of him.

"What's that? Where am I?"

"Ali, let's just sign and get this done." Sara's voice said from afar.

"I don't understand. What else do you want from me?"

"Did he just ask what I think he did?"

"I think so, haha."

"Haha."

Their voices blurred into guffaws while the hairy hands grabbed Ali's chair and threw him into a pool. As Ali sank into the tepid water, thick chains twined around his arms. His head hit the bottom of the pool and he felt his breathing slow down. A female silhouette in a red swimming suit swirled around him. Her hair undulated across her neck and round face. She waved and smiled at him. Her thin fingers drew two letters in the water. An L and an N. "Prince Ali", she whispered in his ear as Ali tried to push his heavy lids up to see her. When he finally managed to open his eyes, she was gone.

Ali's hand felt the night table for the lamp switch only to remember it didn't work. He lay confused in the dark. LN. Prince Ali. What was that all about?

*

"We've already discussed that point three times, Ali." Harry said with a tough look. "How about we take a five-minute break, everyone?" he added, hinting at the team to leave them alone in the meeting room. "What's wrong with you?"

Ali grabbed a cookie from the centre of the table.

"We need to send this back to the client tonight, Ali, and you've been clueless for two hours."

Ali broke his cookie in two halves and crunched it slowly. One more word from Harry and he'd fly back home.

"Prince Ali." Harry leaned on the table. "We're friends, you can talk to me."

"Prince Ali? What's that?"

"What, what's that? You forgot?"

"Forgot what?"

"That client who called you "Fabulous Ali" because you had done a great job, again, at licking -"

Ali rolled his eyes.

"And that girl, from the other law firm, she sent you that Aladdin song." Harry guffawed as he spoke.

"How do you know?"

"What do you mean how do I know? She sent you that stupid song and you clicked that stupid link. It resonated in the whole building, even that partner who smelt like death heard it." Harry chuckled.

"When was that?"

"We were Joel's age or something. Don't remember?"

"I ... No. I don't."

"She was cute, though." Harry grabbed a cookie. "I hate to say that, but of all the girls around at that time, I still can't understand why you chose -"

"What do you mean at that time?"

"When future was bright. Now, half your wealth is gone and half your ugly paintings hang in someone else's flat."

"Too soon."

"'It's been a year, Ali. You need to move on."

"I need a nap."

"It's 10am!"

"Just send me whatever you did. I'll read it when I wake up." Ali said and shut the door.

He scratched his chin as bits from his Prince Ali dream replayed in his head. The pool. Her red suit. He checked his watch, around that time the day before she was at the pool. He should try his luck.

*

Ali dove into the water and kept an eye on the entrance door. He reached the back of the pool and curled into a ball to start a new length. As his chest brushed through the water, a silhouette crossed the lane orthogonally, underneath him. He froze and looked around to see if it was her. No. It was a teenager. He frowned and kept swimming. For two hours, red swimsuits dove and swam, came and went but none was hers. Ali checked the entrance door a last time as he climbed out of the pool. Still nothing.

*

"Looks good to me." Ali said absent-mindedly over dinner, as he went through the documents his team had prepared for his client.

"Good. I'll send it." Harry started typing on his phone. "How is your chocolate mousse?"

"Mh?"

Ali scanned the restaurant one more time. Had she left the hotel?

"Ali..." Harry waved his hand in front of his nose. "You need a drink. Why don't you come with us?"

"Mh? Sure," Ali said still glancing at the entrance door. "Go ahead, I'll join you after -"

Harry sighed and left.

Ali pushed his empty dessert cup to the side and leaned his elbows on the table to watch the dry snow fall outside. The Magic Mountain, he thought to himself and smirked.

"Anything interesting outside?"

Ali turned around.

Oh.

There she was.

But before he could reply, she walked away, to a table at the back of the restaurant. Now was the time to act. What should he do? What should he say? Should he just walk over and introduce himself?

She was wearing a long dark skirt and a sweater. Harry was right, she was different. Words rushed through Ali's mind as he tried to prepare a sentence. Something, anything.

Ali stood up from his chair, his stomach tightening inside, and stepped away from his table. But as he did, a man entered the restaurant, heading straight to her table.

Ali froze.

The man sat down with her and they started talking. Ali's stomach cringed inside. He grabbed his wallet and flattened his jacket. His tense arms tied its button and he headed out of the restaurant, trying to stay compose.

"Hey, wait!"

He heard her shoes tap the floor behind him. Ali bit the inside of his jaws as he turned around, his face certainly all red by now.

"Did you manage to fix your lamp?", she asked.

"My lamp?"

"You were trying to fix it the other night."

"Fine, I guess. Thank you."

She shook her head.

"You have chocolate there." She hinted at his lips. "No, on the right side. The other right side. Yes, right there."

His cheeks burnt.

"Remind me your name, again?" she said.

"Prince Ali." he heard his voice say.

No.

God, no.

She laughed and her eyes sparkled.

"Where is Prince Ali heading after dinner?"

To his room to hide.

"Team drinks."

"I didn't know you were here for work."

"What are you here for?" Ali said, glancing at the man at her table.

"We're shooting a documentary."

"Is that your team?" Ali asked in a tone as neutral as possible.

"If by 'that' you mean the human being eating alone over there, yes it is."

Right.

"What's your name?"

"Ellen." She drew an L and an N in the air.

Right.

"Excuse my curiosity, Ellen. But were you a lawyer before?"

"How do you know?"

"I don't know. I just wondered."

She shrugged.

"Long ago, yes. But that's behind me."

Ali waited for her to say something, but she looked at him with a neutral face. She had not recognised him. Worse, she had forgotten him.

"I have to go." Ali said, pressing the button of his jacket. "Very nice meeting you, Ellen."

"Nice meeting you too."

He waved and walked out.

*

"Here he comes!", Harry said opening his arms as Ali entered the bar. "Means I won again, Joel."

Harry showed his open palm to Joel who drew money out of his wallet again.

"I like this place," Harry said shaking the ice in his glass. "The only thing I really cannot get is that Dalida soundtrack. I just. I mean. Why? Why?"

As soon as Ali noticed the Dalida's rolling rs and disco beat, he closed his eyes and sighed. Now that he had seen Ellen's face closer, he started to remember.

She once stood in front of him, like in the restaurant, long ago. It was a poorly-lit place. Noisy and crowded. Her skin was soft. How did he know that? Ali closed his eyes to focus. He saw his fingers running down her bare arm. She had been dancing. Enjoying herself just like in the pool. He had hesitated. And finally decided to talk to her. She was wearing a black halter dress that emphasised her delicate waist and large shoulders. She had looked up at him and smiled. And then, then... Ali pressed his eyes tighter to remember. Then... nothing. Something hooked him into the chest. Something bitter. She had waited, now he remembered. She had long waited for him. And he had left her hanging. He was shy at that time.

"Wake up, it's embarrassing," Harry said shaking his shoulder.

Ali opened his eyes.

"Enough of those naps, let's have fun."

Ali followed Harry through the crowd. The music was loud. The air imbibed. People too close. His head spun and he looked back at the exit door. There, by the door, he recognised her bare shoulders.

Before his mind could plan anything, Ali let go of Harry's arm. He zigzagged between the drunk faces and clumsy bodies. He pushed a person, to the side, and another, probably two more, as he kept walking.

Three moles dotted her spine. His finger caressed one of them and she turned around. She smiled as she saw it was him.

He bent over, his heart pounding.