I was reading it on the flight and he couldn’t keep his eyes off it.’
‘Indeed.’ Andy’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘Anna, you will take care of it, won’t you? I’m sure it must be extremely valuable. It would be very tempting to anyone who guessed what it was.’ His eyes on her face were concerned, sincere.
For the first time in ages Anna felt a small rush of grateful happiness. He actually seemed genuinely interested in what she was saying. ‘You are not suggesting that he would try and steal it?’
‘No, of course not. I’m sure he was just curious. A manuscript diary is not the usual airport reading that one expects to see on a plane.’ He chuckled.
Anna glanced back towards the other table again and was disconcerted to find the man in the blue shirt still watching her. There was a look of faintly sardonic amusement on his face. She looked away, embarrassed at being caught staring and without thinking she smiled nervously at the tall Nubian standing behind the serving counter. He caught her eye and in a moment was beside her. ‘More soup, madam?’
Andy chuckled. ‘Go on. You’ll have to have it now.’
She glanced up. ‘Yes. Please. That would be lovely.’ Watching her plate disappear she shrugged helplessly. ‘They are going to think that I’m really greedy.’
‘Or just hungry.’ Andy laughed again. ‘Just to make you feel better I shall have some too. You do realise that this is a four course meal,’ he went on as her brimming plate reappeared.
‘No!’
‘Yes! And I shall order some wine to accompany it.’ He raised his hand and beckoned the waiter back.
‘I love their robes,’ Anna whispered when the man had finished serving them and returned to his watchful pose by the counter. The waiters were dressed in long striped cotton shift-like garments, fastened round the waist with red cummerbunds. ‘They look fantastically glamorous.’
Andy reached for the bottle. ‘They’re called galabiyyas.’
‘What are?’
‘The robes, as you put it, that the men here wear. Enormously comfortable. Cool.’ Turning his back on the neighbouring table he leant back in his chair and beamed first at Charley, who was beginning to scowl at him, clearly resenting the attention he was paying to her, and then back at Anna. ‘No doubt we shall have to don such apparel at some time during the voyage. Even the most salubrious and posh of vessels feel bound to humiliate their passengers with a fancy dress party of some kind, I gather.’
‘I’m beginning to suspect that this is not your first trip to Egypt.’ Anna watched as he squinted at the label on the wine bottle which had appeared.
‘My first on a cruise like this.’ He slopped a little wine into his glass and raised it to his nose speculatively. ‘This may be a mistake. One should really stick to beer in Egypt unless one wants to buy French wine. Not bad, I suppose. Want some?’ He reached for her glass.
Beyond him Charley was engaged at last in a lively conversation with Ben Forbes. Her long red hair had fallen forward over her shoulder and a few strands were trailing in her soup. She didn’t seem to notice.
‘I was a bit nervous, coming on a trip like this on my own,’ Anna went on. ‘I’ll know who to ask for advice.’
‘Indeed you will.’ He winked. ‘Now, eat that soup. I can see the hors d’oeuvres waiting to come in.’
When the meal was at last finished almost all the passengers made their way up to the lounge bar and some of them, thence, through the double doors out onto the deck. As she stepped out into the darkness, Anna shivered. She had expected the earlier balmy evening air, but a sharp breeze had sprung up. Threading her way between the tables and chairs she made her way aft and leant on the rail alone. Andy and Charley had stopped inside at the bar and she could hear their laughter through the half-open door. The river was broad at this point, though she could see little in the darkness. On the bank against which they were moored the houses, built with mud brick and clustered closely together were mostly without lights and the only sound, of distant singing, came from another boat further along the bank and from the occasional slap of water against the mud.
‘So, it appears we are on the same cruise after all.’ The voice at her elbow made her jump. ‘Forgive me for doubting your good taste.’
Turning she saw the blue shirt, the sandy hair. He was leaning over the rail, not looking at her, lost in thought. He turned and held out his hand. ‘My name is Toby. Toby Hayward.’ Now that he was standing up she realised that he was much taller than she expected, his frame lanky, slightly stooped.
‘I’m Anna Fox.’ His handshake was firm but brief.
They both stared out into the darkness for several moments. ‘You know, I am finding it hard to believe I am actually here,’ Anna went on softly. ‘On the River Nile. Somewhere out there in the darkness is Tutankhamen’s tomb, and ancient Thebes and the desert and beyond that the heart of Africa.’
There was a quiet chuckle. ‘A romantic. I hope you’re not going to be disappointed.’
‘No. No, I’m not.’ Suddenly she was on the defensive. ‘It is going to be wonderful.’ Turning away from him, she made her way back between the deserted tables and ducked into the lounge.
Andy spotted her at once. ‘Anna! Come on, let me buy you a drink.’
She shook her head with a smile. ‘Thank you, but I think I’ll turn in. We’ve an early start tomorrow, and I got a bit chilled out there. I never thought it would be cold in Egypt.’
‘It’s the night wind off the desert.’ Andy caught her hand between his own. ‘My goodness, yes. It’s frozen. Are you sure a stiff drink wouldn’t thaw you out?’
‘No. Thank you.’ She was conscious that the door behind her had opened and Toby had come in, leaving the deck outside deserted. Ignoring the other passengers he walked straight through the lounge and made his way out towards the cabins.
She followed him slowly, not wanting to catch him up as he headed for the staircase, but there was no sign of him as she made her way to her door and let herself in.
She paused, looking round. The cabin no longer looked bleak and impersonal. Nor was it cold. It was warm and inviting, the bedside light on, the bed turned down, the towel she had used before supper already replaced by a dry one. Her own belongings made the place look welcoming and friendly, the little perfume bottle, in place of honour on the dressing table, reflecting in the mirror, a small almost glowing patch of colour on the brown wood. Suddenly she was very happy.
The diary was waiting for her by her bed. Perhaps, before she fell asleep, she would stay awake long enough to read a little more and find out how Louisa had first experienced the Valley of the Kings, then tomorrow she would know what to expect.
The things which are abominated by the gods they are wickedness and falsehood. If found wanting, what future is there for those who escape the blood grimed jaws of Ammit? He who fastens the fetters on the foes of the gods; those who slaughter in the shambles; there is no escape
