She had always done this, even as a child; felt the need to block out distractions, even when they were interesting and informative, so that she could concentrate on the atmosphere. Facts could come later. It was the feel of a place which brought it alive. That was what mattered, what would remain with her long after her visit was over; that was what counted, far more than finding out the date its walls were built. And that was the part of Egypt which she would take home with her. And anyway, she had never liked formal lectures.
‘I thought I told you to keep away from Andy!’ The whisper in her ear was sharp and angry. She spun round in surprise.
Charley stood only a couple of feet away from her, her eyes masked by large dark glasses. ‘I meant it.’ She glanced round and as the others shuffled after Omar into the hypostyle hall she stood with her back to them, barring Anna’s way. ‘I should concentrate on someone else if I were you.’
‘I don’t think it’s any of your business who I talk to!’ Anna retorted sharply. ‘I can’t help thinking you’re over-reacting! I assure you, I have no intention of stealing your boyfriend, if that is what he is. After all, I have only just met him. But if he and I wish to speak to each other like normal adults, then I see no reason why we shouldn’t.’
For a moment she thought Charley was going to hit her. The younger woman’s face was scarlet with anger and her fists were clenched. She took a deep breath and visibly controlled herself, almost shaking with rage, then abruptly she turned away.
‘Atta girl!’ Toby, who had been eavesdropping with unashamed interest grinned at Anna broadly.
She blushed. For some reason she would much rather he had not overheard the exchange. She glanced round for Charley. She had vanished, then Anna saw her once more at Andy’s side. As Anna watched, the young woman slipped her arm possessively through his. ‘I’m surprised she hasn’t got him on a collar and lead,’ she couldn’t resist commenting tartly.
Toby made a face. ‘I know a lot of women who would do that, given half a chance.’ He didn’t soften the words with a smile.
‘That sounds very bitter.’ Anna raised an eyebrow at his change of tone. ‘Do I gather you speak from experience?’
His expression darkened. ‘I am sure most men could, if questioned hard enough. Let’s change the subject please. I’m sorry. I should not have interrupted your conversation in the first place. Look, our trusty leader is holding forth once more and we should be listening to him.’ Moving away he left her suddenly alone. Another crowd of people was approaching, engulfing her. Their guide, gesticulating expansively, was speaking French.
‘Anna!’ Serena was pushing towards her suddenly. ‘There you are! Are you all right?’
‘Of course.’
‘You look shaken. I saw Charley speaking to you. I was too far away to get there. But you were rescued, I gather?’
Anna frowned angrily. ‘In a manner of speaking. Tell me, is no one here interested in the history of Egypt? Everyone seems to have an axe to grind and no one is listening to Omar!’ She paused, then she went on in a rush, ‘I can’t think, with all due respect, how you can tolerate Charley. I’m sorry, but she is impossible. I am not after her boyfriend, for goodness sake.’
Serena gave a comfortable laugh. ‘I don’t have to tolerate her. She’s only my tenant, not my friend, or even my flatmate. Not really. And she doesn’t see me as any kind of a threat. I’m afraid she has sensed Andy’s interest in you far more quickly than you have. You’re an attractive woman, Anna. He fancies you. It’s the way he is. If you are genuinely not interested, she will see it in the end.’ She paused. ‘And in the meantime you and I have a task to perform.’
‘A task?’ Anna stared at her for a moment, not understanding.
‘You can’t have forgotten last night already! We are going to make a sacrifice to the gods, my dear. Remember?’ Serena met her eye, then exploded into laughter. ‘Anna, your face! I was not suggesting we make Charley and Andy draw straws and throw them from the highest column. I think we can be more subtle than that. More refined. If there were any I would suggest flowers. Perhaps, as it is, a libation will do. I brought something with me which I thought might be suitable.’ She patted the large pale-fawn suede bag she habitually carried on her shoulder. ‘We’ll find a quiet corner. It’s worth doing, Anna.’
They were threading their way through the French tourists, still heading steadily towards the heart of the temple. Their own group had vanished.
‘I thought someone had tried to take the scent bottle this morning.’ Anna followed her, close on her heels. ‘I went into the shower where I had left it wrapped up in my make-up bag. I found the bag open, the polythene I had wrapped it in, ripped. It must have been me. I’m sure it was me. In my hurry I probably caught the zip and didn’t close it properly, but I was, just for a moment, so frightened.’ There was a small treacherous voice at work in her head. She could hear it distinctly pointing out, ‘But you tucked the polythene bag out of the way. You know it didn’t catch. You know you zipped it up properly …’ She pushed the voice aside and became aware suddenly that Serena was talking to her.
‘Don’t worry about it. Not now. Did you look up the diary to see what Louisa has to say about it?’
‘I did. But I’m afraid I was distracted into reading a bit about her and Hassan at Edfu. I will have another look for any references to it this afternoon.’
‘And apart from the zip you saw nothing unusual last night?’
Anna hesitated. Some dust. Some strange, spicy dust. Just how neurotic was she getting? She shook her head. ‘I read until quite late.’
‘It was already quite late when we decided to go to bed, Anna!’ Again the deep gurgle of amusement. ‘Look, let’s find a quiet place, if that’s at all possible with all these crowds around.’
‘And what good will it do?’
‘If we please the gods, his gods, it can do no harm. And maybe, just maybe it will keep him away, whoever he is. Here.’ She beckoned Anna away from the main stream of visitors towards a quieter corner.
‘Omar said that the place for offerings was over there.’ Anna gestured ahead of them.
‘So it was. But there was another, where the priests served Haroeris through here, hidden in the wall. I think somewhere quieter would be better for our purposes, don’t you?’
They ducked through the small doorway into a dark chamber. Inside two men were photographing the reliefs. They did not turn as Serena beckoned Anna towards the far wall. ‘See here.’ She groped in her pocket and produced a slim pencil torch. The thin beam focused on a group of figures. ‘Yes.’ Her whisper was triumphant. ‘Haroeris with Thoth and Isis. We are in the right place. I looked it up last night. This is where we make our petition.’
She glanced at the two men. One was focusing his lens within inches of the wall, the other making notes by the light of a small lamp. ‘Last one.’ The words drifted across to them from the darkness.
Serena raised an eyebrow. ‘The moment we are alone. Here.’ She fumbled in her bag. ‘These guys are used to a lot of ceremonial. I just hope the intention and our sincerity count for something with them.’
‘If they’re listening,’ Anna couldn’t help observing, somewhat wryly. ‘After all, there can’t be many people talking to them these days.’
Serena glanced at her quizzically. ‘I think you’d be surprised.’
Packing up his camera at last the taller of the two men strolled towards them. ‘Great place! You’ve found the Isis group, I see. Not many people know about it.’ His accent placed him as German, Anna thought, or perhaps Swiss. ‘It is beautiful is it not? We have already taken pictures of it.’ His companion had shouldered a large bag of photographic equipment. He stopped behind them. ‘The gods are still here, don’t you feel it? They have fled the great temples and now hide in chapels such as this. Good hunting, ladies.’ And with a chuckle he headed for the door.
‘How did he know?’ Anna breathed.
‘A kindred spirit, mayb
e.’ Serena reached into her bag and produced a small plastic bottle. ‘Here, while we’re alone. Pour some into your palm. Offer it to the gods, and then pour it onto the ground before them. It’s red wine. The best we can do under the circumstances. I took it last night during dinner.’
Anna hesitated. ‘This doesn’t seem right.’
‘Believe me, it’s right. It’s whether they accept it or not that we can’t be certain of.’ She unscrewed the cap.
Anna held out her hands. ‘I’m sorry, but I feel like an idiot.’
Serena looked up at her face. ‘Don’t.’ She spoke sharply. ‘Quickly. I can hear voices. Make the offering.’
Outside in the distance Anna heard a guffaw of laughter, followed by a sudden animated burst of conversation in what sounded like excited Arabic.
‘Quickly. Put your hands together.’
She did as she was told and felt the warm wine trickle into her palms.
‘Hold it up! To the great gods of Egypt. Haroeris and Thoth and Isis, lady of the moon.’
Anna repeated the names, and then added for good measure, ‘Please protect us and keep us safe.’ She held out her hands for a moment, then slowly parting her two palms, allowed the wine to splatter on the stone at her feet. All desire to laugh had left her. The atmosphere in the small room was suddenly electric. She felt herself holding her breath and glancing at Serena, saw that she was staring at the wall, transfixed. She followed her gaze and gasped. Was that the shadow of a man superimposed upon the carving? For a moment she didn’t move, then Serena brought her arms up and crossed them over her chest. Her bow towards the wall was deep and reverent. Anna hesitated, then copied her.
They had barely finished when two figures appeared in the doorway. ‘I thought I saw you duck in here. What are you up to?’ Ben’s shape blocked out the light for a moment. He pulled off his hat and wiped his forehead with his arm. ‘Have you seen anything interesting? Have you looked at the mummified crocs yet?’
Joe had followed him in. Both men had cameras in their hands. Anna surreptitiously rubbed the red wine from her palms on a tissue. She could smell it, rich and alcoholic in the air, and waited for the men to comment, but they seemed not to notice. Serena had screwed the cap back on her bottle. She slid it into her bag. In seconds they were back in the sunshine and the four of them were heading slowly further in towards the heart of the temple.
Anna glanced at Serena. ‘Did you see it?’
Serena nodded. She put her finger to her lips. ‘We’ll talk later, back on the boat. Keep your eyes open, though. The gods are definitely around.’ With a grin she linked her arm through Ben’s. ‘We’ve lots more to see, then Omar said we should look at the stalls down there in the village and buy ourselves something pretty if we can negotiate a good price.’
For the second time Anna made her way up onto the sundeck after their late lunch. She glanced round for the empty chairs and chose one at the extreme front of the boat. Clutching her hat and the bag which contained both sun lotion and diary she made her way towards it between the intrepid sun worshippers who were braving the afternoon’s heat and, sitting down, she swung her long brown legs up on the leg rest in front of her. The air was very hot and she could feel the lethal bite of the sunlight on her skin even through the sun cream. Most of the others were below in the shade or asleep in their cabins content to rest after the strenuous morning.
She heard footsteps near her suddenly and feigned sleep behind her dark glasses. She couldn’t cope with Andy and Charley at this moment. Lunch had provided Charley with several opportunities to clutch at his arm and pout in Anna’s direction. The display had left her cold and Andy, she was glad to see, had ignored the woman almost completely, plainly growing tired of her petulance.
She half opened one eye and saw that it was Toby who had come up on deck. Ignoring the chairs he walked up to the rail and leant on it. There was a sketchbook in his hand, she noticed, though he hadn’t opened it. He didn’t seem to have noticed her, concentrating all his attention on the river where a graceful felucca was winging its way past them.
She lay still, Louisa’s diary unopened in her bag. The hot air was heavy and it was hard to stay awake. Her eyelids drooped. She was aware of Toby putting one foot on the lower rail to rest more comfortably, then he opened his sketchbook and pulled a pencil out of his shirt pocket.
The boat would soon be leaving Kom Ombo to travel on south towards Aswan. Once they had started moving there would be a slight breeze. Stretching like a cat she closed her eyes.
She woke with a start as she heard the engines beginning to rumble in the depths of the boat and a slight tremor ran through the deck.
‘We’re just leaving.’ Toby was still at the rail. He didn’t turn round but she assumed he was addressing her; there was no one else within earshot. He was sketching swiftly and fluently, his pad resting in front of him, glancing up every few seconds to take in more detail of his subjects. This time it was a man in a turban rowing a small boat heavily laden with green animal fodder, berseem. Anna sat up and levered herself to her feet. She went to stand beside him at the rail. ‘Those are good.’ She had glanced down at the page of small sketches. He had made several of the boat, so low in the water there was virtually no free-board. And he had sketched separately the strange oars she had noticed everywhere – back to front compared with the ones she knew at home – with the broad end at the top for the rower’s hand and the narrow part in the water.
‘Thank you.’ He drew for a few more seconds. ‘That is the island where the crocodiles used to bask. Sobek’s subjects …’ He nodded at a low-lying sandy dune ahead. The temple ruins were above them now on the east bank.
‘I was hoping we’d see some crocodiles.’ Anna leant next to him, feeling the cooler breeze now on her cheeks.
He shook his head. ‘Not any more. They disappeared from the river after they built the Aswan Dam.’ He finished his sketch and flipped his notebook shut. Turning he leant on the rail, his back to the water. ‘Are you enjoying the trip so far?’
She nodded. ‘Very much.’
‘When are you going to let me see the diary?’ He wasn’t looking at her. She followed his gaze and saw the old book, unmistakable in its worn leather cover, poking out of her bag on the deck beside her chair. She frowned. She couldn’t explain her reluctance to show him, but already he had pushed himself off the rail and gone to squat beside her bag. Throwing his own sketchbook down on the chair he picked up the diary and without further delay, opened it.
‘There aren’t many sketches.’ It was almost an accusation.
‘No.’ She was irritated by all this interest in her property and indignant that he had picked it up without her permission. She didn’t want him to touch it. ‘I’m sorry I can’t lend it to you. I’m reading it myself.’ She kept her voice steady with an effort.
‘And you don’t trust me.’ He squinted up at her suddenly. His eyes were very clear in the blinding sunlight. His face had changed from a pleasant openness and had reverted to the hard closed look she had seen on the plane.
‘I wouldn’t trust anyone with it,’ she said as calmly as she could. ‘It is a personal document belonging to my family.’
‘And pretty valuable, no doubt.’ He was still leafing through the pages almost greedily. He paused when he reached one of the tiny cameo watercolours and turned the book round to see it better. ‘She was good. Delicate. Her eye was fantastic. And her sense of colour. Do you see? She never falters – never hesitates. One stroke and it is perfect. You shouldn’t bring this out in the sun, you know. Or put it near your sun cream. It’s not some cheap paperback novel to cart around as the mood takes you. This is priceless!’
‘It wasn’t in the sun until you took it upon yourself to open it!’ Anna retorted. She could feel her cheeks burning, and was suddenly furious with him. She was being patronised again. ‘If you’d be kind enough to give it to me.’ She held out her hand.
For a moment she thought he was going to r
efuse. He was holding it open, staring down at it as though he were trying to photograph it and fix it in his memory for ever. Reluctantly, he closed it and handed it to her.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,’ he said quietly. ‘Would you believe me if I told you that I’m not interested in its monetary value? It’s the drawings themselves. They are unique. She captures the atmosphere as I would never hope to do in a million years.’ Just for a second she saw through his defensive mask and glimpsed something of the spent-up frustration and anguish which seemed to be hiding there. He opened his mouth as though he were going to say something else, changed his mind and turned away. She watched as he disappeared down towards the lower decks.
There was no time to consider his outburst. Seconds later another figure had appeared. It was Andy. He saw her immediately and raised his hand. Hastily she squatted down beside her chair and returning the diary to her bag she pushed it out of sight under the seat.
‘Was that Toby Hayward I saw up here with you?’ His question appeared casual as he leant against the rail.
Anna raised an eyebrow. ‘It was.’
‘Wasn’t he welcome?’ He inclined his head towards her slightly.
‘Not particularly. I was hoping to read for a bit in peace.’
‘That sounds a bit frosty. Am I getting the brush-off too?’
She sighed. She enjoyed Andy’s company, there was no denying it, but just at this moment she could do without anyone’s, even his. ‘It is not a brush-off, Andy. I am just tired after this morning. It was pretty strenuous, after all. We all had a nice lunch together. I was hoping now, to let the boat take the strain and enjoy some quiet leisurely cruising.’
She thought for a moment he was going to turn away and she gave a sigh of relief, but he changed his mind. He stopped and faced her again. ‘Did he ask you about the diary?’ he asked casually.
Whispers in the Sand Page 12
