Sand in the Wind

by Ruth Hay

  Anna sighed in relief. A few minutes on her own would restore her equilibrium and give her the stamina for the next leg of the trip. She was discovering that she did not enjoy the constant moving about and following a trail of people walking at the pace of the slowest person.

  While Alina was always calm and obliging company, there were others who spoke very loudly or insisted on telling strange jokes or, even worse, attempted to correct Mohammed’s helpful historical statements during the nightly lectures with slides that gave the travellers insights into the relationship between Egypt and Nubia. While many passengers fell asleep during these, Anna made notes and admired the slides. She could now recognize Merouwe pottery and the distinctive steep-sided pyramid tombs of the Nubian nobles.

  A nearby table displayed frosted jugs of juices. Anna felt thirsty again, a common experience in Egypt, she had found. She would order the large bottles of Baraka before she left the hotel. There was no knowing how long the transfer to the new ship would take and she had found the value and the blessing (Baraka in Arabic) of carrying her own supply of water.

  She was thinking of all the tips she had gathered on the way and wondering if she should write them down for other travellers, when she felt a bump at her shoulder, almost spilling the glass of grapefruit juice she had just poured.

  “Oh, forgive me, madam. I was not concentrating on what I was doing. This place is just so amazing and I was craning my neck to examine the ceiling cupola.”

  Anna found herself standing beside the young man she had noticed earlier. She felt like announcing how clumsy he was and asking how he managed to bump into the one other person who was in the huge dining room, but his expression was so contrite that she took pity on him and said instead, “Oh, no harm done! It is pretty impressive.”

  “Ah, you must be American,” he began, then quickly added “........ or Canadian perhaps?” when he caught Anna’s look of denial.

  “Could you be so kind as to recommend what to eat here?” he continued. “There’s just so much choice and we don’t get many buffets like this where I come from.”

  “And that would be England, I suspect?” She had picked up the accent immediately.

  “Indeed! It’s my first time in Aswan. I am on a mission for my company to inspect some newer hotels in the area but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to stay here in this famous old place. What style and grandeur!”

  Another chatty type, thought Anna with a backward glance at her quiet table. Hopefully she could provide the information he needed and return to her solitude. She pointed out the various different cuisines to suit the international tourists and concluded the tour with a farewell comment. “You won’t find the ‘full English’ breakfast here, of course, but if you wait for a bit, the chef will make you an omelet.”

  “Now, you would not know about that unless you had stayed in Britain.” was the response from the curious young man. “What’s the connection?”

  Anna resigned herself to replying to his question and directed him to her table once he had selected his breakfast foods. They introduced themselves and Anna learned he was Nigel Ogilvy from Manchester.

  She gave a brief account of her Scottish property and mentioned that she and a companion were heading to Luxor to meet up with an English family member, also from Manchester, who worked there.

  “That’s quite a coincidence,” stated Nigel thoughtfully. “I am returning to Luxor shortly.

  It’s a long shot, of course, but does your family member work as an architect by any chance?”

  Anna was stunned to hear this but managed to confirm Nigel’s inquiry with a nod of her head.

  “Good gracious! Could you be the sister of Philip’s that I have heard so much about?”

  “Uh, yes, I am indeed! Don’t tell me you are working on the Luxor hotel project also?”

  “I am proud to say I am the younger partner in the firm. OPT Architects stands for Ogilvy Purdy and Torrance.”

  “Well, Nigel, this is amazing!”

  “And there’s another connection between us. Your property is in Oban and my family lives in Stirling and I got my start in my father’s construction business there, before concentrating on architect studies, blueprints and digital technology.”

  Anna let her shocked expression speak for her while Nigel prattled on. A sudden chill swept down her spine. Her mind conjured up the pages from Helen Dunlop’s account of the Fraser family in Stirling. There had been a sister who married and had a son named Arnold or Arthur who continued the construction business started by Helen’s husband. She longed to ask Nigel his father’s or grandmother’s name but realized she would need to be much more subtle than that.

  There were secrets here; not her secrets, perhaps, but the repercussions could be serious if she revealed too much. This young fellow could be a great-nephew of Harold Fraser. The Fraser family might well be interested in what became of the bribery money Helen Dunlop Fraser had accepted from them, or else they might not be kindly disposed toward any person who had benefited from that money.

  These thoughts raced through Anna’s mind in a split second. The rational part of her brain tried to assert itself with the thought that the coincidence was too unlikely to be possible.

  What were the chances of meeting a relative of Helen’s husband in a hotel in Egypt, for heaven’s sake?

  Calming herself with this last thought, Anna returned to the conversation and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Alina walking towards the table with a very quizzical look on her face as if to say, ‘I leave you on your own for five minutes, and look what you get up to!’

  Introductions were made, Alina sat down, and Nigel took his cue to depart, saying, “I look forward to meeting you both again in Luxor, ladies. It’s been a pleasure. I’ll report back to Philip, when I see him, that his charming relative and her friend are in good spirits.”

  Alina’s mouth was agape as she watched Nigel walk away.

  “What just happened? Where did you find him? He’s like a Victorian gentleman, not of this century, for sure! And, so good looking! Did you check out that perfect widow’s peak on his brown hair? And those dark grey eyes? Stunning!”

  Anna laughed and joked along with Alina, but her instinct told her not to discuss her fears with her friend. It was too soon to speculate, and she needed time to consider her next move.

  Alina went off to collect her breakfast and Anna had a minute to think.

  Where had she stowed those papers of Helen’s? Her heart fluttered until she recalled the location, zipped safely into the inside pocket of her case. She could examine them later, looking for Helen’s sister-in-law’s name and that of her son who could be Nigel’s father. For now she would try to forget the strange encounter related to the past and concentrate on the present.

  For once Anna found herself looking forward to stepping out into the hot morning sun. The chill of the unexpected encounter was still causing her to feel unnaturally cold.

  As predicted by Alina, the switch to the MS Prince Abbas took most of the day.

  Much waiting around was required until the ship was prepared for its new passengers.

  It appeared that several tours were to be amalgamated on this larger ship and coordinating the arrivals and their luggage was a complex operation involving numerous tour guides and a number of interpreters.

  “We’ll miss our small group on our private ship,” observed Alina, as she watched the coming and going of a series of ships from the dockside restaurant patio where they had stayed since lunch some hours before. “But there should be even more facilities available. I wonder what our next suite will look like and which ship is ours? I can’t see all the names from this viewpoint. The ships are so close together.”

  Elaine stopped by their table on her tour around to reassure her party that they had not been forgotten.

  “Although Egypt is quieter than usual,” she explained, this next section of the Nile is always the most heavily travelled. When we get the signal
, we will walk through the ships which you see tied up together by the dock. Ours is the last in line which means we get to start ahead of the others and set the pace for all the rest on our trip. Watch for my red hat waving, then come to the dockside.”

  “More line-ups!” complained Anna, after Elaine had moved off to another table.

  “Yes, but at least we are sitting in the shade of this umbrella with drinks and an interesting view. We could be looking out at a snowstorm in Canada right now.”

  “Sorry for moaning!” Anna apologized.

  “You have been looking rather morose since breakfast. Missing that lovely young Nigel perhaps? He was gorgeous, with that shiny dark hair and deeply tanned skin!”

  Anna reached over to give Alina a playful punch but she recognized that it was a true observation. She had a lot on her mind, including how the revelation of this morning, if it turned out to be factual, would affect her relationship with Philip. What if he said something to Nigel that revealed the truth about Anna’s inheritance?

  * * *

  It took another hot, humid hour before Elaine’s red hat emerged from the crowd, waving wildly.

  The walk through the rolling ships’ reception areas was interesting. Most were of a similar design with paint and decor providing the variety. Crew members stood by at each entrance and exit to be sure no one slipped or got lost on the way.

  When they reached their destination, the crew of MS Prince Abbas welcomed them with trays of drinks and the boat manager collected their passports, checking their names off on a passenger list as he did so. Keys were dispensed and young staff members, dressed in white uniforms with red trim, led them out onto a walkway that girdled the cabins. They were on the top accommodation deck again and so were not surprised to find a superior grade of facilities inside.

  As soon as Alina had checked that the correct luggage was there, and given the boy a small note for a tip, (they had learned to save such notes for this purpose), the women threw themselves down on the twin beds and, from this position, compared their cabin with the previous one on the SS Misr.

  “This is nice. I like the air conditioning and the slightly art deco look to the furnishings.”

  “I like the soft bed and quilted covers in blue and green but this cabin lacks that amazing view over the prow of our Nubian ship.”

  “I don’t think we’ll ever get anything like that again, my dear. Remember this is a much bigger ship and we do have the advantage of arriving everywhere before the flotilla we walked through.”

  “I’ll bet you counted the number of ships, Alina. Am I right?”

  “Of course, I did! There were six including ours. All of them had different carpet colours. We are the only red one.”

  “Good! We won’t get lost then. Look, before we fall asleep, why don’t we grab sunbeds up on top and see the ship depart from Aswan?”

  “Brilliant plan! Beat you there!”

  * * *

  They found two sunbeds right in the narrow part of the upper deck facing forward. They adjusted the back support then lay down in comfort on thick cotton-covered cushions. The sun was edging lower on their left on the west bank and the traffic noise of the Corniche, as the road beside the Nile was always called, was muted, following the last prayer call of the day.

  A crew member approached on rubber-soled shoes and asked if he could bring drinks or tea for them. The two women exchanged glances. What more could complete their delight?

  They asked for tonic and lime and also tea with lemon and lay back again in bliss.

  “This is living!” declared Anna as the engines throbbed and the ship shunted back and forth for a minute or two to get far enough away from the flotilla to head out into the centre of the river. Soon Aswan fell behind them and as the red rays streamed out turning the sand and rock as red as the natural colour they had in Nubia, the true wonder of the Nile was revealed.

  Children on donkeys herded their goats along the high bank toward clusters of mud huts, while women scoured their gleaming pots with sand on the shoreline. Fishermen in wooden skiffs, low to the water, beat the surface with long poles to stun fish and scoop them up into their nets. Each and every one they sailed past, looked up from their tasks and waved, smiling in greeting.

  “Tomorrow I will learn what to say in response,” promised Anna as she waved back enthusiastically.

  Alina was too stunned to reply to Anna. The thought that stopped her was how similar the scenes were to her idea of biblical times. It was as if they had been transported back millennia and privileged to see what life for ordinary people was like then.

  Just when it seemed as if nothing more could be asked of the moment, perfection arrived in the form of a laden tray and a folding table on which to place it.

  “Shucrun!” said Anna and the most common of the Arabic words, said it all for them.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Those first hours in the prow of the ship set the tone for the next few days.

  Nothing could disturb the serenity they had known. All they needed, when the buffet line grew too long or the crowd became too noisy, was to return to the top deck and watch the Nile life slide by.

  They passed large barges laden with green stalks that a crew member identified as sugar cane.

  They noted the cattle tied up under the shade of palm groves and saw the shaduf buckets that were powered by human arms and lifted the precious Nile water over the mud terraces and into channels running through the verdant fields.

  Villages of different sizes and structures came into view and they figured out that the ‘fences’ around the perimeter were made from the dried stalks of the sugar cane harvest.

  Every day was another series of revelations and the stops for tourist visits were almost an interruption to their main interest.

  The ship lived up to its five-star billing. Despite requiring room for 60 cabins, there was also a very spacious restaurant where all the passengers were fed at one time. Seating at the round tables for eight was not assigned for the voyage, so Anna and Alina met many pleasant and knowledgeable travellers and were able to avoid the few in whose company they did not care to spend more time.

  They discovered a library with leather chairs tucked away on the second cabin level and retired there after meals when they were not interested in the evening’s musical entertainment, some of which was similar to performances they had enjoyed on parts of the Lake Nasser cruise.

  There was also an informal lounge bar where the younger passengers could always be found in the later hours.

  The best part of the day, however, was the time spent on the top deck watching the Nile slide by. There was something new every few minutes and Alina filled an entire memory disk with pictures she proclaimed were, “extraordinary scenes I will never see again, anywhere!”

  Fortunately, the store above the reception level, reached by a circular staircase, was well supplied with most of the needs of tourists. Many women assembled there during opening hours and satisfied their need to shop with purchases of sun creams, memory disks and clothing. Alina searched the racks of colourful, long, printed dresses for the famed Egyptian cotton, but found, to her disappointment, that most items were made in China.

  “I suppose that’s inevitable these days,” she said with a sigh, but she bought one in peacock colours and another in dark blue with a gold and silver collar designed to replicate the jewelled chest ornaments worn by both men and women in ancient Egypt.

  * * *

  The first temple expedition was at Kom Ombo. The Prince Abbas approached the shore and they found the temple was on a rocky outcrop several feet above the Nile.

  “The guide book says it means ‘gathered on a hill’,” explained Anna as they filed off the ship.

  “Never mind that now!” insisted Alina, closing the guide book with a snap. “Keep your eyes on where you are going. We don’t need a twisted ankle on the dock side.”

  They marched up an incline past a market place full of stalls selling a
variety of tourist goods.

  Alina was convinced this was where she would find the authentic textile samples she was eager to inspect, but as soon as she broke away from the line, a soldier with a gun approached her and barred the way. Elaine hurried up and spoke reassuringly to the official while shepherding Alina back into the group.

  “What did I do?” asked a shocked Alina.

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” Elaine insisted. “You crossed the yellow line there. The vendors are not permitted to hassle tourists until you have visited the historical site. They’ll be happy to show you anything you want when we are returning to the ship.”

  Alina had to be content with this explanation but she made note of the number of ‘tourist police’ on duty from that time forward.

  * * *

  KOM OMBO TO EDFU

  Writing this journal on the top deck is such a pleasure. I think Nile cruising is preferable to Lake Nasser because there are many more ships and commercial boats moving on both sides of us.

  It’s like a movie wherever you look with new scenes every few minutes. Today I saw a man wash and scrub a huge bullock in the shallows. It stood meekly and waved its ears back and forth

  I think it was enjoying the treat.

  KOM OMBO was a cultural and commercial success for us. Alina found linen goods in Egyptian cotton at a very high thread count and bought out the stall. She moved on to very fine wools and threads in a rainbow of colours and bought those too. By this time a crowd of merchants were beseeching her to look at their materials also. Elaine had to rescue her. She sent one of the men back to the ship with Alina’s purchases. I did not dare ask how we were going to transport these back to Canada!