Whispers in the Sand (8 page)

Anna woke with a start to find the light in her cabin still on, the diary lying open on her chest. Daylight poured through the slatted shutters, sending bright, narrow wedges of light onto the floor and up the wall. Leaping out of bed, she reached across to the window and slid the shutters back. Outside, the river was a brilliant blue. A Nile cruiser was making its way upstream, whilst across the broad stretch of water she could see the palm trees on the distant bank, a strip of brilliant green fields, and beyond them in the distance a line of low hazy mountains, pink and ochre in the early morning sunlight.

Dressing quickly in a blue shift, she made her way out between tables and chairs in the lounge onto the deserted deck and stared round in delight. It was already hot on the afterdeck, but under the awning it was shady. She walked to the rail and leant on it, staring at the palm trees on the far side of the river. The cruiser was out of sight now, and for a moment the river was empty. It was several minutes before she could bring herself to turn her back on the view and head for the dining room and breakfast. At the door she met Serena, Charley’s cabin mate, who the night before had been sitting at the next-door table. About forty-five, slim and attractive with short dark hair and huge green eyes, she gave Anna a cheerful smile. “See you later,” she said by way of hello and goodbye. She held the door open for Anna, then disappeared in the direction of the cabins. In the dining room, only Charley was sitting at the table they had all shared the night before.

“Good morning.” Anna sat down near her. “How did you sleep?”

“Not a wink.” Charley scowled. She was nursing a cup of black coffee. She sighed. “I hate flying, and I hate boats.”

Anna hid an astonished smile. She resisted the temptation to ask why, in that case, Charley had come on such a holiday. “Can I get you something from the buffet?” Behind them, the serving table was laden with cereals and fruits, cheese, cold meat, and eggs.

Charley shook her head. Her long hair was caught back in a ponytail this morning, and she was wearing a tee-shirt and jeans. “Just ignore me. I’ll improve when I’ve had a couple of these.” She gestured at the coffee.

“Have the others had breakfast?” Anna eyed the empty places, already cleared by the waiters.

Charley nodded. “All early birds.” She gave Anna a sideways glance. “Andy and I are an item, we’ve been together for several months.”

Anna watched while the waiter poured her coffee, then she stood up ready to go to the buffet. “I thought perhaps you were.” She smiled. Charley’s comment was a clear warning shot across the bows. Yet hadn’t Andy said he was unattached? Piling up fruit and cheese and a delicate, crumbling croissant onto her plate, she turned back to the table. Charley had gone.

Returning to her cabin to collect her sun hat, glasses, and guidebook, Anna stood for a moment staring round. She had left the diary on the bedside table. Hesitating briefly, she swung her suitcase down from the top of the locker where she had stowed it and put the diary inside. Locking it, she lifted it back into place. As she was collecting a hairbrush and some sun cream from the dressing table to toss into her bag, her eye was caught by the scent bottle. Should she have locked that away as well? She hesitated, glancing at her watch. They had been told to meet in the boat’s reception area at six forty-five to leave at seven a.m. She did not want to miss the bus. The decision was simple. She would take it with her. Picking up the bottle, she wrapped it in one of the fine silk scarves she used to knot back her hair and tucked the small scarlet bundle into her bag. Then, turning, she let herself out of the cabin.

A small coach collected them from the river bank and drove them to the ferry in Luxor. To her surprise, as she sat down alone towards the back of the coach and waited, staring eagerly out of the window, Andy came and sat down beside her, wedging his broad frame into the narrow seats with a familiarity which, she had to admit, she did not find entirely unpleasant. “So. How are you this morning? Excited?”

In spite of herself, she glanced round for Charley. Not seeing her, she nodded. “I’m fine. Very excited. Yes.” She recognised all the faces now. Near her were Sally Booth and Ben Forbes. And Serena, sitting next to an elderly lady in a cerise trouser suit. Then two more couples whose names she didn’t know. And at the back of the bus on his own she saw Toby Hayward.

“Did you bring your precious diary?” Andy was looking at the tote bag on her knee.

She shook her head. “It’s locked in my suitcase.” She grinned at him. “I’m sure it’s all right, Andy. There wouldn’t be anyone around who would want it. Really.”

He was still staring at her bag, and she glanced down to see what interested him so much. Her scarf had worked free, and the little scent bottle was lying on top of her guidebook in full view.

“Souvenirs already?” He smiled at her. “Don’t let the peddlers badger you into buying anything you don’t really want. They’re awfully persuasive.”

She shook her head, feeling suddenly defensive. He had clearly not recognised it as antique. Wrapping the bottle up again, she pushed it to the bottom of the bag. “I won’t. I’m good at saying ‘no’.” She caught sight of his raised eyebrow out of the corner of her eye and chose to ignore it.

As the coach lurched up the track from the river and onto the narrow dusty road, she stared out of the window at the squat, square mud-brick houses on either side. They seemed to rise to two or three storeys, then they would stop, unexpectedly, as though only half finished, with yards of metal reinforcements projecting from the top, like clusters of TV aerials. Huddled together, they gave the impression of shanty towns clustered around the outskirts of the city itself, all built in a uniform yellowy-grey colour but some brightly painted, with wild designs and patterns, a contrast to the sandy dust which was everywhere, and many further decorated with the rugs thrown across the sills to air. Some had nothing more than a few palms or straw mats strewn across the top, instead of roofs, and all over the place Anna saw rows of amphora-like clay pots lying on the rooftops or around the doors. She shook her head. “I still can’t believe I’m here, to be honest.”

He laughed. “You are here, believe me. So, did you read any more of the diary last night?”

Anna nodded. “A bit. I found the section where she went to the Valley of the Kings. There was a wonderful description of the valley. It was empty. Deserted. There was no one there with her except her dragoman, Hassan. They sat and picnicked on a Persian rug.”

Andy laughed. “I’m afraid it won’t be like that for us. It will be packed with tourists. I’ve heard a lot of people say there are so many crowds there that it spoils it. No atmosphere, or not much. And no dragomen!”

“It’s such a lovely term. I should love my own dragoman!” She clutched at the back of the seat in front of them as the bus hit a pothole and then turned sharply to the right, hooting furiously as it hurtled out onto the busy main road.

“Perhaps I can be of service?”

She smiled at him. “I don’t think Charley would approve,” she said gently. “Where is she, by the way?”

“Up front somewhere. With Joe and Sally. She’s been chatting up Omar.” The lurching of the bus threw him against her for a moment. “Have you got your camera?”

She nodded. “Photography is one of my passions. I’m not likely to forget that.”

“Good. You’ll have to take a picture of me in front of some great pharaoh so I can brag about my trip at home.”

They climbed out of the coach to queue for the short ferry ride across the Nile and found another identical, though older, vehicle waiting for them on the other side. When Anna looked round for Andy as they climbed aboard, she saw that Charley was by his side. For this second part of the journey she found herself next to Serena.

“My first visit to Egypt.” The dark-haired woman was wearing a cool cheesecloth skirt and blouse of brilliant contrasting blues and greens.

“Mine, too.” Anna nodded. “You’re a friend of Charley’s, I gather?”

Serena laughed. “For my sins. We’re sort of flatmates in London. Well, in fact she rents a room in my flat. It was my idea to come out to Egypt, and before I knew it Charley was coming, too. She knew how long I’d wanted to come out here, and I suppose I was so enthusiastic and excited I sold her the idea.” She shook her head ruefully. “She and Andy had been going out together on and off for several months, and when he heard about it he half jokingly said he’d come as well. Charley was over the moon and he realised he might have committed himself a bit more seriously than he intended, so he asked the Booths, and there we were, a veritable wagon train!” She sighed. “I’m sorry. Does that sound as though I’m complaining?”

Anna shook her head. “I should think it’s more fun coming with friends than on your own.”

“Perhaps.” Serena did not sound too certain. There was a moment of silence as the driver climbed into his seat and leant forward to turn on the ignition. The bus gave a shudder and settled down into a violent but steady rattle. “You’re on your own?” Serena’s enquiry was almost lost in the noise of grinding gears.

“Newly divorced and stepping out for independence.” Anna had a feeling that her jaunty tone had a wistful ring to it. She hoped not.

“Good for you.” Serena nodded. “My partner died four years ago. For a while it was like losing half of my own body. We had been so close there was a physical loss; part of me had died with him. But it gets better.” She gave a big smile. “Sorry. That’s a bit intense for a first conversation, but at least you know there’s someone who understands if you need a chat.”

“Thank you.” Anna was astonished by the wave of warmth she felt for the other woman. It wasn’t the same, of course. Felix wasn’t dead. And her feelings for him—had they ever been so intense that she had felt him to be part of her? She wasn’t sure they had ever been that close.

Conversation was impossible above the noise of the engine, and they turned their attention to the passing countryside. Apart from the cars and buses, the landscape was, Anna realised, exactly as Louisa had described it a hundred and forty years before. And, with its intense air of timelessness, it might for all she knew have been the same fourteen hundred years before as well.

She stared out of her window at the intense green of this narrow strip of fertile fields, watered by narrow canals, and at the shade of the eucalyptus trees and palms which formed darker patches on the dusty road. She caught glimpses of water buffalo and donkeys and even camels; of men dressed in
galabiyyas
, boys dressed in jeans and some on bicycles, but most perched on the rumps of small trotting donkeys whose ribs stuck out like harp strings. And there, too, were the fields of sugar cane and small, allotment-like squares of onion and cabbages. Amongst them were scattered small, shabby papyrus and alabaster factories.

They stopped briefly to get out of the bus and photograph the Colossi of Memnon, two massive figures carved out of pink quartzite, standing alone on the bare, rubbled ground, then they were back into the coach and heading once again towards the edge of the green fertile countryside. At last they were nearing the range of mountains she had seen from the boat in the early morning light. As they drew closer, they changed colour. They were becoming less brown, less pink, more dazzling as the sun reflected off the dusty stone and the sand. They passed villages nestling into the cliffs with dark holes amongst the mud-brick houses which could have been modern or ancient, caves or dwellings or antiquities.