a good night’s sleep. I hope the crickets don’t keep you awake. We’re not greatly troubled by them here.’
‘Thank you, Dad. Goodnight.’ She kissed his cheek and entered her tent, securing the flap after her. Someone had placed a bowl of cold water on the table, and Carolyn washed before undressing. She had brought pyjamas with her, and put them on rather nervously, wondering how much protection was really provided by canvas. Then she switched out the light, and climbed into the camp bed. With its air-mattress it was quite comfortable, but it was all too new and strange for her to be able to sleep.
The darkness outside, after the men retired, was penetrating, and she thought she had never known it could be so black. She could hear the cicadas, as her father had said, and occasionally the strange screaming roar of a mountain lion, somewhere in the hills above the encampment. These sounds were unnerving; the scuffling in the undergrowth around the camp seemed close at hand, and she wondered wildly what she would do if some untamed creature hurtled into her tent.
She sat up abruptly, and reached for her handbag, extracting her cigarettes and lighter. In the small flame of the lighter, the tent seemed filled with shadows, encroaching patches of darkness hiding heaven knew what mysteries, and she hastily put out the light, preferring not to see. Then another sound came to her, a pattering and swell of sound that grew deafening. At first she had no idea what it could be, and she sat still, petrified, until suddenly she relaxed, and almost laughed out loud with relief; it was raining, heavy torrential rain, that beat against the canvas savagely.
She finished her cigarette, and lay down again, listening to the rain. The sound was a familiar one, for all her strange surroundings, and eventually she fell asleep, a faint smile on her lips.
The next morning she was awakened by her father bringing her in a cup of steaming hot tea, which was very welcome. She struggled up, brushing back her hair from her eyes, and screwing up her eyes against the glare of the sun outside.
‘Oh lord,’ she groaned, tiredly. ‘What time is it?’
‘Just after six-thirty,’ replied her father, smiling. ‘I know it’s early, but it gets very hot here after midday, and no one works in the heat of the afternoon, so we always start early. You’ll probably find you’ll take a siesta after lunch and feel completely relaxed and fresh again around four in the afternoon.’
Carolyn grimaced. ‘I didn’t get to sleep for hours last night. Did you hear that rain?’
The professor laughed. ‘No. I usually go out like a light as soon as my head touches the pillow. But I know we have had a heavy downpour by the state of the ground. Fortunately the sun dries everything up very quickly.’
Carolyn nodded in acknowledgement, and sipped the tea. ‘What am I to do this morning?’ she asked. ‘Can I see the dig?’
‘I expect so. I’ll take you along myself after breakfast. Hurry and dress, and José will have eggs and bacon ready for you—–’
‘Hold on,’ exclaimed Carolyn. ‘I don’t want eggs and bacon. I usually have a drink of orange juice and some coffee, that’s all.’
The professor looked concerned. ‘Well, you can’t possibly exist on orange juice and coffee until two in the afternoon when we usually have lunch. Okay, if you don’t want eggs and bacon, you can have a couple of tortillas, have you tried them yet? José does a delicious concoction with fried bananas, I’ll have him rustle something like that up for you.’
‘No!’ Carolyn was horrified. ‘Bananas are terribly fattening. I don’t want to look like a house-end by the time I leave here!’
‘Now, Carolyn, I’m not going to stand here arguing with you.’ The professor looked adamant. ‘This is Mexico, not London, England, and when in Rome you do as the Romans do, and in this case it means obeying my orders.’
‘Oh, Dad! Honestly, coffee will be fine.’
Professor Madison frowned. ‘Get dressed. I’ll see José and discuss it with him.’
Carolyn slid out of bed, rubbing her eyes. ‘All right. All right. But don’t be surprised if I only have coffee, anyway.’
After her father had gone, she made a cursory examination of her luggage. Last evening, the cases had been stacked in a corner, and she had only unpacked what she needed. Glancing around she realised that she would not have nearly enough space to unpack all her cases, so she contented herself by hanging a couple of crushable dresses in the polythene stand, and searched through another case for a pair of denim pants, and a pale blue shirt. With her hair tied into a pony tail, she felt more businesslike, and emerged from the tent feeling more ready to face the day.
The men greeted her in a friendly fashion, and she had a few words with Tom Revie before seating herself beside Bill Anderson.
‘How did you sleep?’ he asked, and she smiled.
‘Now I wonder why you should ask that,’ she said, lightly. ‘Do I look a physical wreck or something? There’s a shortage of mirrors around here, so I don’t know.’
Bill grinned. ‘No, you don’t look a physical wreck,’ he said. ‘You know you look great, as usual.’
‘Why, Bill! I do believe that’s a compliment,’ she teased him, and he flushed, and bent his head to his meal.
The men all seemed to favour the English breakfast, but Carolyn was relieved to find only toast and fresh orange juice beside her plate. The butter was too soft to be really enjoyable, but Bill said that she was lucky to have toast on any terms. Tortillas were the Mexican substitute for bread.
After breakfast, Professor Madison came across to Carolyn. ‘I’m going up to Don Carlos’s hacienda,’ he said, solemnly. ‘I think it might be a good idea for you to come with me. That way we can get the apology and the explanation all over in one fell swoop.’
Carolyn twisted her fingers together. ‘Have you to go? I mean, you’re not just going because of me?’
‘No. I have to go. Don Carlos has kindly given us the use of a large salon at the hacienda in which we can store all the valuable finds we make. I go up there from time to time to continue with the illustrated inventory I am making. I’m hoping you’ll be able to help me with this.’
Carolyn looked interested. ‘Oh, really? How good! I shall like having something to do.’
‘Good. I’ll just have a word with Don and then we’ll go.’
The drive to the Alvarez home took them along the borders of the tumbling, restless river which seemed deeper and wider now that they were on a level with it.
‘Much of the transport around the state is done by river steamer,’ remarked Professor Madison. ‘I believe much of the adjoining states is completely unnegotiable except by air and river steamer.’
‘Is that a fact?’ Carolyn was impressed. ‘It seems incredible in this day and age to be so out of touch with civilisation.’
‘Parts of Yucatan are still completely unexplored,’ said the professor. ‘There may yet be ruins of other Mayan cities lying hidden in the thick jungles.’ He sighed. ‘If I were a younger man, I should try to get an expedition up to explore more of central America. I find these almost prehistoric tribes, living in circumstances which have not changed for thousands
