Shadows of the Nile (3 page)

“What are you doing?”

Nephthys smiled.

She gripped the shawl even tighter, so Aline could hardly breathe. “We're going to be such friends,” she said, and laughed, suddenly releasing her hold. “I'm so looking forward to our trip on the Nile. There's such a lot I want to show you. But before you go I have a little gift for you.”

“I don't accept gifts.”

“Oh, please, Aline. It's nothing. Just a necklace from the Nubian desert. It's worth nothing and I give all my customers the same when they leave. My girl will give it to you when you go. Ah, and here come my other customers. Come in, come in.” She turned and smiled at the rest of the party who had at last managed to leave the main room. “Here you'll find other things – coloured bottles of oils and perfume to take home. Or we can package and send anything you like back to the UK for you.”

Aline quickly left. The same girl who'd offered her the juice stood outside holding several necklaces wrapped round her arm. She had one in her hand which she held out to Aline. They looked mass-produced, and totally innocuous.

“I will put it on for you.”

Before she knew what was happening, the girl got behind her and deftly secured the metallic necklace round her neck.

It felt very cold and it felt very heavy.

*

“They're very pretty, aren't they?” Gerald remarked, pointing to Aline's necklace as they sat on the coach. We've all got the same. The fellows didn't get anything. It's a lovely necklace,” she went on. “I like the contrast between the greyness of all the little pebbles and the grey circle with the turquoise stone in the middle.”

“Could you help me to take mine off?” Aline asked. She'd already tried but without success.

“Oh, already? Don't you want to wear it for a while?”

“I find it a bit tight.”

Gerald struggled, trying to release it. “I can't do it,” she muttered in exasperation. “Here, Cheng, you have a go.”

“The clasp has a strange combination,” he said, examining it. “It's really very interesting. It's a bit like a Chinese puzzle. But I am very good at them. There you are,” he exclaimed. “I don't think the clasp is good. Still, you can always replace it, if you want to.”

Aline smiled. “Thanks.”

*

When Aline got back to the hotel she went straight to reception.

“I'm departing very early in the morning to fly to Luxor and I need to leave some money for some things I bought from a trader last night,” she explained.

“In the hotel grounds?” The girl looked at her seriously.

“Yes. Near the shop. It was closed as it was quite late but he must have had a stall nearby.”

“He shouldn't have been in the grounds. The sellers from the markets are not allowed in the hotel, bothering our guests. Our security people keep them out. I will report it.”

“Oh, please, I don't want to get him into trouble. If I could just leave something just in case he returns.”

She handed over an envelope.

“You can put the money in there if you wish, but I doubt anyone will come for it.”

Aline took the envelope, put some notes in it and addressed it to ‘The Seller – with snakes embroidered on his robe'. She didn't know how else to describe him.

*

Aline couldn't sleep. She knew it was only a few hours before the alarm call, and very soon after that they'd be flying off to Luxor. The day had been such a mixture of emotions and intrigue that she couldn't relax. She got out of bed and then lay down on top of the sheets wearing just her silk robe. Suddenly she thought she saw Nephthys floating above her, clothed only in a glistening turban and Aline's shawl. Something seized the shawl and brought it down to cover Aline's face, almost as if to protect her from Nephthys. She tried to cry out, but the more she struggled the bigger the shawl became, wrapping itself several times round her entire body so she couldn't move. Gerald's pale face seemed to appear from nowhere, with her ears holding the necklace, which floated down, growing smaller and smaller until it reached Aline. It tied itself tightly round her neck, almost throttling her. She cried out again and moaned, but all she could hear was the man's voice saying, ‘Soon, soon,' repeating it over and over as she lay cocooned, unable to struggle free, awaiting her fate. Then she heard Nephthys laugh, loud and hard.

She sat up quickly. Her body was soaked with sweat. She wore only her robe. She was not constricted in any way. There were no silken ropes or pretty chokers to keep her tied down and subdued. She must have dreamt it. And yet it had seemed very real.

After a while she slept again. She was at the window. It was still quite dark except for the lanterns which were dotted around the garden. Yet even in the dim light she could make out a figure just beyond her ground floor balcony. It was a heavily-veiled woman. She carried a lighted brass container, supported on a chain, which allowed her to swing it to and fro. As she swung it towards the slightly open window strong smelling fumes drifted in through it. As soon as she saw Aline she ran off.

Surely the woman wasn't trying to drug her in some way. If so, why?

She woke again. ‘More strange dreams,' she thought.

Slightly shaken, she showered and dressed. She'd soon be away from Giza, and maybe that was a good thing. She had loved the Pyramids and enjoyed every minute of her visit there. But all these weird dreams. What did it all mean?

If the things that had happened to her so far were anything to go by then what more lay in store for her when she reached the Nile?

As she paced up and down she suddenly noticed a movement on the floor in a corner.

She crept over to see what it was, and then stepped back in shock.

It was an insect, a very large insect.

It paused momentarily and suddenly raced off, quickly disappearing.

Aline knew what it was. It was something which in ancient Egypt had protected the dead.

It was a scarab beetle.

Several more people joined the party at Luxor. Aline was relieved to see that Nephthys wasn't one of them and hoped something had stopped her taking the Nile cruise. As they sat round the deck that evening, still at Luxor, Aline started talking to an elderly man who had been immaculately dressed all day. He reminded her so much of the old upper classes from years back, in his white suit and panama hat. He was quite plump, with a reddish face and a dimpled smile, and with eyes that twinkled with merriment every so often.

“So you're a writer,” he said to Aline. “This cruise already reminds me of Agatha Christie and what was it she wrote? ‘Murder on the Nile'.”

“Oh, why would it do that?” Gerald piped up.

“It's the ambience. We'll all get to know each other, and yet perhaps we'll never get to know each other. But we'll get close, as we're in such close proximity to one another. I think Aline here will already have worked out in her mind just what we're about to sail into and how it'll affect us all.”

“Well, I'm a non-fiction writer – a travel writer,” Aline said. “I'm not trying to write up something which is in my imagination and not real. At least I'll try not to.”

“Ah, but,” murmured Peter, his face glowing with mischief, “there's got to be something more than just your hard facts taking over your notebook which I've seen you using today. There has to be something much more, surely, than just reporting about a few old temples and stones. There's got to be some sort of mystery behind all those tombs and paintings. A great many people lived and died here, leaving behind their dust over thousands of years. There have to be ghosts, surely?”

He stared teasingly at Aline.

“I expect there are tales people could tell,” she answered. “But I'd find it difficult to write anything except the facts.”

“Ah, so facts only about something like the Valley of the Kings? Tell me you won't feel anything as you wander down those long corridors to the chambers where once, so deeply hidden, was someone of great intelligence and power, who was laid to rest with such ceremony for thousands of years. Tell me your imagination won't be fired by the way ordinary Egyptians prepared for the afterlife for their relatives by building them underground houses, and filling every room with things they loved so much. Come, come Aline. And tell me you won't be so moved by what you're about to see that your head will be bursting with things to tell, that your senses will come alive and you'll want to cry out to the world what you have felt?”

“You sound like a writer yourself,” Aline answered, smiling, ignoring all his remarks.

Peter laughed uproariously. “I possibly should have been. But I wasted my entire life doing very little because I inherited wealth. That's one of the worst things that can happen to you, my young Aline. Wealth takes away all your ambition. It makes you lazy. It gives you everything in life without having to earn it. But sometimes I try. I've come here on a mission – to find out about these tombs and, okay, write about them in my little diary, not in the clinical fashion you say you will, Aline. My words will convey passion and a deep insight into what really lies beneath our fingertips.”

Aline glanced at him. He was testing her. He wanted something more from her. She merely smiled.

“That's a bit hard,” Gerald said. “I haven't read anything Aline has written but she looks as though she's a good writer.”

Aline smiled again, not sure what a good writer looked like. Like herself, evidently.

Peter lit up an enormous cigar. “So will you be wandering around these ancient monuments, with wires dangling from your ears, and talking secretively into a Dictaphone? When we speak to you will we be met by a blank expression?”

Aline laughed.

“I've no intention of doing any such thing. I respect these buildings and other people, and I'll be using my notebook for key words, and my head to record what I see, and then in the evenings I'll be using my laptop to write down everything I've seen and done in the day.”

“Oh dear,” Peter said, a big grin on his face. “Not the laptop! Oh, what happened to the quill pen and big scrolls of papyrus. Nothing ever remains the same. Well, I'm off to bed now. Got to go and find the wife. She's my fourth, I think. She's a nice woman, takes great care of me, and she tells me she's my second cousin or something. Don't know where she got that idea from. Well, folks, we have a long day tomorrow, and an early start, and we need to be alert and ready for anything. Who knows what might befall us.” He pushed himself up out of his chair, his cigar dangling from his mouth, and winked at Aline.

There was a chorus of goodnights, and everyone except for one older lady took his cue and wandered off. She sauntered over to Aline and sat next to her.

“I'm Jan,” she murmured. “Don't let him goad you. He's a real tease.”

“He doesn't worry me at all,” Aline answered, smiling.

“Good! It's nice to have one or two young people in the party. You must despair, looking at us wrinklies.”

“No, not at all.”

“I'm in my eighties,” Jan confided.

Aline gasped. “But you don't look anything like eighty.”

Jan stood up. She had a few lines, but her hair looked good, was well cut and coloured blonde. The pink dress she wore, with a mass of tiny shells around her neck, gave her an air of youth and vitality.

“You're kind!” Jan giggled, did a little twirl with her chiffon skirt, and pranced off with a light step towards the stairs. “See you tomorrow,” she called.

Aline was left alone on the top deck. It was becoming dark but the boat was brightly lit.

She stood up and leant against the rail, staring out at the lights on the hills.

There was a sound behind her. She turned and saw someone she hadn't seen before. He was Egyptian, middle-aged, dressed in shirt and shorts. His eyes smiled warmly behind his deep-rimmed glasses.

“I hope I didn't startle you.”

“Not at all.” She smiled at him.

“I am Achmed, your Egyptologist for the entire Nile cruise. I have just come on board and was to introduce myself to everyone tomorrow. I didn't expect to find anyone up here.”

“I'm Aline. I was just about to go but the view kept me here.”

“That is the Valley of the Kings and other tombs,” Achmed explained. “They are lit up in the evening as respect for the dead.”

A shiver passed through Aline's body.

“We're going there soon?”

“Possibly tomorrow. I have yet to see the tour operator who has the itinerary. Is it something you want to see? Most people do.”

Aline could have said she was writing some articles. But she didn't. Instead she murmured, “I've always wanted to go into one of the tombs.”

“A specific one?”

“Yes.” She'd never thought that before. It had always been an ambition of hers to just go to the Valley of the Kings. Now she knew there was one she really needed to visit.

“Which one is it? Not many of them are open at one time. Usually only two or three.”

“I can't recall the name.”

“Rameses? Tutankhamun?”

“I…” She looked out towards the hills. It was there, somewhere. Somewhere…

“Oh well, I expect it will come back to you,” Achmed said gently.

“Yes.” She paused. “Tell me, is Nephthys – I'm sorry, I don't know her other name – coming on the cruise?”

“Ah, yes. Nephthys. Everyone knows her as just that. I don't know if she is coming this time. Sometimes she joins us. She loves the Nile cruise. Do you know her?”

“Not really. I've met her a couple of times.”

“She is a very successful businesswoman,” Achmed explained. “She knows everything there is to know about aromatic plants and how to extract the oils and how to make the most exotic perfumes from them, and of course all the other things associated with the plants. She looks very European and she has shops in Paris and London, but she spends a lot of time here. You have to be a bit wary of her because it's possible she may try to recruit you, because she is always looking for beautiful women to promote her products, and stops at nothing if she thinks someone is suitable. I hope you don't mind me saying you are beautiful.”

“No, I'm flattered.”

“You also have a glow about you. You have a sort of aura. Please don't get me wrong. I only say what I see. I am very happily married, with children, and my wife is all I have ever needed or will ever need. Believe me when I say that one Egyptian woman is enough for any man.” He smiled again. “Well, it has been a long day for everyone. I will say goodnight and we will meet up at breakfast.”

Aline watched him go. He had somehow tried to make her remember the name of the tomb in the Valley of the Kings. He had dipped into her mind, as if hoping to bring from the recesses something of vital importance. But she didn't know quite what he wanted of her.

*

Still Aline couldn't leave the top deck. She continued to stare out at the Valley of the Kings, straining her eyes, trying to make out what was in the distance. Surely she must see something that might show why she needed to go there? But there was nothing, only the lights casting shadows. Sighing, she turned slightly – just in time to see a man staring at her from more shadows on the ship. She knew from his build it wasn't Achmed.

“Hello,” she called.

The person hesitated.

Now she concentrated all her attention on him. His face was half hidden in the dark, but she could make out his strong chin and sensuous mouth and knew he was an Egyptian. A long-sleeved shirt fitted closely to his body and showed off his manly frame. It reached to the top of his jeans, which were well-fitted and tight round his muscular thighs and legs.

“Hello,” she called again.

This time he turned from her and disappeared quickly back into the shadows.

Aline hurried after him. But he had gone. She paused, in thought. Somehow he reminded her of the Egyptian who had sold her the shawl at the hotel. But what would he be doing here on a cruise ship?

*

Disappointed she couldn't find him, Aline returned to her cabin. Although it wasn't very big, it was quite adequate for her. The bed was roomy, as it was a double, and it was comfortable. There was a small television on some drawers, and next to the bed was a cupboard with a dressing table and mirror next to it. The only picture on the walls was of the Pyramids at Giza, in black and white, looking very stark. The window was large, and it would soon show views of the unique countryside of the banks of the Nile, but at that moment the curtains were drawn because they were moored next to another boat. There was an ensuite – a surprisingly large room.

Aline lay down. It had been a strange few days. Some things didn't add up, but when she thought of Nephthys she began to wonder if the latter's odd behaviour was merely to recruit her into the beauty world – to get her to work in her London shop maybe. Perhaps the woman was just very much a businesswoman and totally normal.

She soon fell asleep, lulled by the gentle rocking of the boat on the water, and knowing she was at last sleeping on the River Nile.

*

She was up early, and did some writing. Then the breakfast gong sounded and she made her way to the dining room, where the others were already seated at a long table. She found herself next to a rather plain-looking woman who gave her an encouraging smile.

“I'm Mary. I'm married to Peter. He hasn't quite emerged yet but he'll be here before long because he likes his food.”

Aline smiled and introduced herself. She couldn't help staring at Mary in surprise. She rather thought if Peter had been married before then this wife would be like the others probably had been, glamorous and young. Mary was neither.

“I'm a distant cousin, which he might have told you,” Mary explained, as if reading her thoughts. “He had a bit of sense in his old age and married someone who cares for him. Don't take any notice of what he says. He waffles on a lot. Too much money all his life, but he's not a bad old stick.”

By the time Aline had collected her breakfast Peter had descended and arranged himself over nearly two chairs opposite his wife. He gave Aline a big grin.

“Ah, the writer,” he said, in a booming voice so everyone must have heard. “Did you sit up late into the night with your laptop, recounting fact after fact, or did a little romance or maybe even mystery creep between the lines?”

Aline felt Mary nudge her.

“Well,” Aline replied, “I do find this country one of the most fascinating places I've ever been to, and believe me I don't usually use that word to describe anything. This country is like no other country I've ever seen. I find it so different, so full of things which do inspire my imagination in a way I've never experienced before. So if you think a bit of ‘romance' as you put it might creep into my writing then you could be right.”

Peter took a sip of coffee and gave her a big grin.

“If that's so, I just might invest in this travel company of yours.”

“Be quiet,” Mary said.

At that moment Achmed appeared.

“Now who's this intelligent-looking man about to join us,” Mary said, smiling encouragingly at the new visitor.

“I'm Achmed,” he returned her smile. “I think I met some of you yesterday, but for those who don't know me I am your Egyptologist. I will be with you when we visit all the interesting places, and will tell you about the fascinating history associated with them. I hope you all have a good holiday.” Everyone murmured approvingly. “Now, we are not going to visit the Valley of the Kings at the beginning of our cruise but at the end. This is because of the huge number of visitors at the moment. Hopefully there will be less when we return. So this morning, before we sail, we are going to a temple nearby, Hatshepsut, which is very interesting. So if you can all be in reception in about ten minutes, we will make our way to the coach.”