Whispers in the Sand. Barbara Erskine
at his watch. ‘Then this afternoon it’s off to the Ramasseum and Hatchepsut’s temple. There’s no slacking on this trip!’
A shadow fell across his face. Charley was standing there looking down at him. ‘I am sure Anna doesn’t need an escort. If she needs someone to hold her hand in the dark, Omar can do it. That’s his job, after all.’ Her voice was acid.
Anna stood up hastily. ‘I don’t actually need an escort of any sort. Please, don’t worry.’ She grabbed her bag and slung it on her shoulder. ‘I’ll see you back on the bus, no doubt.’ She did not wait to see their reaction, plunging back into the sunlight to make her way across the sandy path towards the shadow of another tomb entrance.
It was only when she was standing in the queue, her guidebook in her hand that she realised Andy had followed her.
‘I’m sorry. That was embarrassing.’
‘Not at all. Charley is right. I don’t need an escort.’ She glanced behind them. ‘Where is she?’
‘Still over there in the shade.’ The queue shuffled a few steps closer to the entrance. ‘Egyptology is not her thing. She feels she has seen enough for one day.’
‘I see.’ Anna glanced at him sideways, unsure whether she should feel triumphant or sorry for the other woman. She liked Andy. His good-natured friendliness had done much to put her at her ease amongst so many strangers. Not that they seemed like strangers now. It was her first day in Egypt and yet she felt as though she had known them for a very long time.
‘Hello there.’ As though to confirm her thought Ben emerged from the entrance in front of them. His face was pink with heat, a marked contrast to the whiteness of his hair. As the sun hit him he smacked his hat back onto his head and grinned at them hugely. ‘One of the best tombs, this. Magnificent! The mind just boggles at the thought of how much work has gone into it all, and how many men it took to do it.’ His face sobered a little. ‘Charley! Are you going in too?’
Charley was suddenly beside them. Her face was tense, her eyes smouldering with anger. ‘Yes, I’m going in too. Stupid thick Charley is actually interested.’
‘Stay here!’ Andy’s hand on Anna’s wrist was like an iron clamp as she turned to move away. Startled, she frowned. ‘Andy, please –’
‘No. I asked you to visit this tomb with me. I meant it. If Charley wants to come too, then that’s up to her. She has a ticket, the same as the rest of us.’
Charley’s face was red with fury. ‘That’s right. And I’m coming in.’
‘Please do.’ Andy’s smile was, at least on the surface, as affable as ever.
When Anna glanced round for Ben, he had gone.
As they walked down into the darkness Anna spotted Omar ahead of them with some half-dozen of the other passengers from their boat who had elected to stay with him for the tour. With relief she hurried to catch up with him, aware that Andy was still at her side. Over the next twenty minutes or so as Omar talked to them about burial chambers and cartouches, The Book of the Dead and The Book of Gates, slave labour and the gods of death and retribution she slowly managed to distance herself from Andy and Charley in the darkness. By the time they had reached the inner pillared hall she had lost sight of them entirely.
It was as she was walking back, her concentration on the ceiling with its wonderful paintings that her arm was seized. ‘What do you think you are playing at? You hardly know him!’ Charley’s hiss in her ear was full of venom. ‘Why? Why are you doing it?’
Anna turned in astonishment. ‘Doing what? Look, Charley, you’ve got the wrong end of the stick. I’m not trying to do anything, I promise.’
‘You’re encouraging him!’
‘I’m not. Andy is a kind man. He has seen that I’m on my own and he is trying to make me feel welcome. So is Ben.’ She paused for a fraction of a second. ‘And Toby. And your friend, Serena. That is all it is. They are nice people and I appreciate their kindness.’
She glanced round hoping to see Andy nearby, but there was no sign of him. A long queue of people was shuffling past them as they stood at the centre of the corridor leading from the depths of the tomb back towards the light. Someone jostled her slightly and she stepped back. ‘We’re in the way, Charley. We have to move on with the others.’
‘I’ll move on. As for you, you can get lost!’ The viciousness of Charley’s remark left her speechless. For a moment she didn’t react and Charley, hurrying swiftly ahead was soon out of sight behind a sea of slowly processing backs. Anna shivered. The attack had been so swift and unexpectedly unpleasant that she wasn’t sure what to do. She wanted to run after her, to argue, to defend herself, but at the same time some defiant corner of her mind was telling her to take no notice, to talk to Andy and, as long as she found him attractive, and she realised suddenly she did find him extremely attractive, to give Charley a run for her money. It was only a small corner of her mind though. A far larger portion was all for keeping the peace.
O keep not captive my soul. O keep not ward over my shade but let a way be opened for my soul and for my shade and let them see the great God in the shrine on the day of judgement …
Rejected by their gods, and fleeing retribution the two priests sleep in the darkness of the tomb. The scent of oil of cedar and myrrh and cinnamon hangs in the hot dry air. There is still no sound. Far above them the cliff is the haunt of kite and vulture. The call of the jackal rends the night sky as the stars fade and the sun disc returns from its voyage beneath the earth to rise again over the eastern desert. In the darkness time is without meaning or form.
On the shelf between the pillar and the wall the small bottle sealed with blood lies hidden. Inside, the life-giving potion, dedicated to the gods, made sacred by the sun, thickens and grows black.
Tired and dusty they returned to the boat late in the evening to be greeted by fragrant hot towels, handed out at the door to the reception area by one of the crewmen from a steaming metal platter. Next they were given fruit juice and then at last their cabin keys. Anna made her way to her cabin without glancing round to see if Andy and Charley were nearby. On the coach she had sat at the back with Joe, relieved to be excused from talking by his instant somnolence. In her cabin she threw her bag on the bed, and as exhausted as Joe had been, she kicked off her shoes and began to pull off her dress.
Abruptly she stopped. Her skin was prickling. The cabin had grown cold and for a split second she had the feeling that there was someone in there close to her; watching her.
‘This is stupid.’ She said the words out loud, staring at herself in the mirror. The cabin was a scant ten feet by eight. The tiny shower had room for barely one person. There couldn’t be anyone there. She pushed the door open with her foot and it swung back to reveal basin and shower, fresh towels ready on the rail.
She glanced up suddenly at her case on top of the cupboard. Had it been moved? She didn’t think so. With a sigh she shook her head. She was just very tired. She had imagined it. It wasn’t cold at all. On the contrary, she felt as hot and sticky as she had on the bus, after her day in the sun. Peeling off her dress she shook it to remove the creases and dust and hung it on the door, then shaking her hair free and sweeping it back off her face she stepped into the shower and turned on the blissfully cool water.
The only empty chair at her table when she arrived at dinner was between Ben and Joe. Slipping into it with a sympathetic smile at the now wakeful Joe, Anna saw Charley link her arm through Andy’s and give it a proprietorial squeeze.
‘So, how did you