Whispers in the Sand (6 page)

She found herself seated at one of three round tables, each of which accommodated six people. Beyond the windows she could see nothing of the land or the river she had come so far to visit. The only sign of Egypt was the appearance behind the semi-circular serving counter, piled high with fruit and cheeses in the centre of the room, of a solemn procession of waiters, dark-skinned, dressed in white—two or three per table at least.

Her companions were, to her relief, immediately friendly; the silence of strangers disappeared at once as on every side people began introducing themselves to each other. Next to her on her left she found herself shaking hands with a good-looking man perhaps her own age or slightly older. He stood up as he greeted her, and she saw he was no taller than herself, but his broad shoulders and stocky frame gave the impression of size. “Andy Watson, from London.” He smiled, hazel eyes bright with humour beneath dark lashes and bushy brows. “Unattached, available, charming, with an absolute passion for all things Egyptian, as I suspect have we all, because that’s why we’re here.”

Anna found herself laughing. A little shyly, she introduced herself as a divorcée also from London, recklessly meeting his eyes for a moment before she turned to greet the tall, thin man with mousy hair, almost gaunt features, and the palest blue eyes who sat on her right.

“There are five of us on the cruise.” Andy leant across her, reclaiming her attention. “That’s Joe Booth next to you, he’s something in the City, and beyond him is his wife, Sally, and this,” he indicated the slim, red-headed young woman on his left, “is Charley, who is sharing a cabin with Serena, over there.” He nodded at a woman seated with her back to them at the next table. The sixth person at the table, the only one there apart from her who appeared to know no one on the cruise, introduced himself as Ben Forbes, a retired doctor. He and Andy were, it appeared, sharing a cabin. He was, she guessed, in his late sixties, a large, florid man with small, bright, observant eyes, a wild thatch of greying hair, and a rumbustious laugh which within a few minutes had proved to be both infectious and a wonderful way of drawing attention to their table. The waiters unfailingly came to them first, as did their tour guide, Omar, who introduced himself as they were waiting to be served.

“Welcome. Tomorrow we start with our tour to the Valley of the Kings. Karnac and the Temple of Luxor itself we shall visit on the last day of the cruise. Tomorrow we get up very early. We cross the river on the ferry, and then we go on a bus. The schedule will be posted each day at the top of the stairs, outside the lounge.” A strikingly handsome young man, who, Anna discovered later, when he was not working as a tour guide, was studying history at Cairo University, he glanced round at them and smiled the most beautiful smile, his white teeth enhanced by what looked like a fortune in gold. “Please, if you have any problems and questions, come to me at any time.” He bowed and moved on to the next table.

Watching him, Anna saw him bow again and introduce himself to each of them in turn, then she noticed the man next to whom he was standing. Seated with his back towards her, his arm across the back of the chair as he looked up at Omar and listened to his short speech, was the man who had sat next to her on the plane; he must have been on the bus after all. He had changed into a dark-blue open-necked shirt and pale linen trousers, and she saw him make some quiet remark to Omar which had the young man blushing and the others at the table laughing uproariously. So he was still being unpleasant. Obviously it was in his nature. She suppressed a quick feeling of triumph that she was after all on the same cruise as he was!

“Seen someone you know?” Andy was passing her the basket of warm bread rolls.

She shook her head. “He sat next to me on the plane, that’s all.”

“I see.” Andy stared over his shoulder, then he turned back to her. “So. It’s brave of you to travel out here on your own. What made you decide to come to Egypt after dumping hubby?”

She winced. “It is as you said. I have a passion for things Egyptian. Well, perhaps that’s putting it too strongly. My great-great-grandmother was a woman called Louisa Shelley. She came out here to paint in the late 1860s—”

“The Louisa Shelley? The watercolourist?” She had his attention completely now. “But she is very well known! I sold one of her sketches not six months ago.”

“Sold?” Anna frowned.

“In my shop. I deal in fine art and antiques.” He smiled at her.

Beyond him Charley leant forward and smacked him on the wrist. “No shop, Andy, please. You promised.” She surveyed Anna carefully, her eyes wary. “Don’t encourage him!” There was no friendly smile as she looked Anna up and down. “What do you do?” She waited, eyebrows raised.

Not giving her a chance to reply, Andy leapt in for her. “She’s here to spend her ex-husband’s fortune, darling, what do you think? And I’ll bet I can sell her some gorgeous things when we all get home, but for now we’re going to concentrate on Egyptian goodies, and first of all, Egyptian food. Did you know this boat is famous for its food?”

Anna glanced at Andy. His open cheerfulness encouraged confidences. She noticed suddenly that Charley’s hand, resting on the table beside her plate, was touching Andy’s. So, he was not as unattached as all that. She would have to be careful. “If you’re interested in art and antiques, perhaps I should show you my Ancient Egyptian scent bottle!” She smiled.

Andy leant back in his chair, his head cocked on one side. “Genuine Ancient Egyptian?” He waited attentively.

She shrugged. “I have been told not. But it came from Louisa, and I think she thought it was. I have her diary with me. I’ll see if she mentions where she found it. I just thought it would be fun to bring it with me. Back to the place of its origin, as it were.”

“Indeed.” Andy watched as a Nubian waiter approached with their soup. “You must show it to me some time. I know a little about ancient artefacts, and I would love to see Louisa Shelley’s diary. Are there any sketches in it, by any chance?” He had picked up his bread roll and was crumbling it between his fingers.

Anna nodded. “A few, tiny thumbnail ones. She did most of her sketches in the special sketchbooks she had with her.”

She was aware suddenly that at the next table her neighbour from the plane had realised she was there. He was staring at her with such close attention that she suspected he had been listening to their conversation. She gave him a small, quick smile—no more than the slightest acknowledgement—and saw him nod curtly in return.

“Your flight companion has spotted you, I see.” Andy’s voice in her ear was amused.

“So it seems.” Anna wondered why the man’s neighbour, Serena, was sitting separately and not at the table with her companions. So far she had not even turned to acknowledge them. Even as she watched, the woman smiled across at her neighbour and began talking animatedly to him. He turned back towards her at once, and as his head turned, Anna caught sight of the not unattractive smile.

She picked up her spoon. The soup was made of vegetables, lightly seasoned and thin, but tasty. It was very welcome after the packaged food on the journey. “He was fascinated by the diary. I was reading it on the flight and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of 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.

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