'I've no idea.' The voice was suddenly very bored. 'I'm not her keeper.' And the phone was slammed down.
Anna pursed her lips.
Closing the diary she pushed it back into the drawer. She was making her way towards the door when there was a knock.
Serena was standing there. One glance told Anna she had been crying.
'What's the matter? Oh, Serena!' She caught her hand and pulled her into the room. Pushing her down to sit on the bed she stared at her for a moment then she sat down beside her. 'Please tell me it's not Andy. Has he been having a go at you because of me?'
Serena shrugged, then reluctantly she gave a slight nod. 'It's not your fault, Anna. He's been on the point of saying all this ever since I met him.' She sniffed and groped in her skirt pocket for a tissue. 'It's just that he was so cruel.' She looked straight ahead, her face crumpled and bewildered. 'I'm no use to you like this, Anna.'
Anna stared at her, aghast. Standing up she went over to the dressing table and poured a glass of water. Handing it to Serena she shrugged helplessly. 'What did he say? Would you like to tell me?'
'I doubt it. I'm sure your imagination is good enough to fill in the gaps. Basically I'm to keep my menopausal madness to myself and not come near you any more. 'Or what? Exactly what does he intend to do about it?' Anna could feel her fury mounting.
'Nothing to you, obviously.' Serena drank the water quickly, her eyes closed, both hands clamped round the glass. 'But he'll make my life hell. And he can do it, believe me. He's done it before. He comes round. He phones. He implies that I'm going round the bend. He threatens me with psychiatrists and exorcists and God knows what! It's not worth it, Anna.' Sighing, she put the glass down and shook her head. 'Even if I wanted to I can't be there for you. He's drained every particle of confidence from me. In this state I'd be mincemeat for your priests. My only consolation I suppose is that I don't even have enough energy now to make it worth their while trying to possess me.
208.
Anna closed her eyes. The temperature in the cabin seemed to have dropped several degrees. She was thinking of Louisa and her fear. 'What makes you think they would try to possess you?' 'I'm an initiate. I probably have the kind of energy they want. If I was strong, centred, I'd be able to stand up to them. I'd be able to fight them on their own ground and maybe I'd be of some use to you.' Serena shook her head. 'But according to Andy I only have my self-obsessed paranoia left now. I begged him to try and see it from our angle. To try and imagine the threat to be real. To try and think what would happen if those two priests get stronger. There is no one to fight them except me.'
'I can still throw the bottle away, Serena,' Anna interrupted.
'That won't do any good! You said yourself they followed you to the dam. They're not tied to the bottle, Anna. They are real independent beings! I don't know why they didn't show themselves before. Maybe they knew you would bring it back to Egypt one day. Maybe they couldn't find enough of the right kind of energies in London. But now they have found the means to gain enough strength they are not going to jump in the river after the bottle and disappear in a plop of steam!'
Anna smiled involuntarily, inspite of her fear. The description conjured up a wonderful image. 'Then you must help me, Serena. You have to. I need you. I keep thinking of Louisa; of how frightened she was.' She stood up again, suddenly resolute. 'I'm going to have this out with Andy right now, and get him to lay off you.'
'No, please!' Serena caught her hand.
'Don't try and stop me. I've had enough of his interference, I really have. We've both said he is a bully and you're right, this is none of his business.'
'He's made you his business, Anna. He fancies you, and to be honest,' she hesitated, 'I think he fancies that diary of yours even more. At heart Andy is always the dealer first; friend or lover second. It sounds awful but he's probably got a buyer and a price in the back of his mind already. If I'm in danger of coming between him and his turn on a swift buck I'm dead meat!'
Anna stared at her in silence for a moment, then without another word she spun on her heel and stormed out of the cabin.
Andy wasn't hard to find. He was sitting on a stool at the bar, watching Ali with his cocktail shaker.
'I want a word. Now.' Anna stopped in front of him, her hands 209.
on her hips, her eyes blazing. 'Your interference has gone far enough! It has to stop.'
She was aware of various other people in the lounge glancing at her quickly then looking away. She took no notice of them.
'So, Serena went straight to you did she?' He scribbled his name on a chit and took the glass from Ali. He raised it to her in mock salute. 'I just wanted to save you from getting dragged into her drama sessions. You would have thanked me, you know. But,' he shrugged, 'if that's what you want. So be it.' He took a deep swig from his glass.
'It is. And I don't want to hear that you've been intimidating her. For God's sake, stop sticking your nose in! What makes you think you've got the right to have any say whatsoever in what I do or who I have as friends? I've only known you a few days!' She was over-reacting, she knew it, but suddenly she had seen Felix in front of her, choosing her friends, dictating her life. No more. The new Anna was free and a far more powerful person than the old one.
'You've only known Serena a few days, too,' Andy retorted. He shook his head. 'So, I'm going with my gut feelings,' she flashed back. 'I like her and I trust her.' 'Ouch! Do I infer from that that you neither like nor trust me? I'm sorry. I'd somehow got completely the opposite impression.'
She looked him in the eye. 'I like you, Andy, and I'm sure I can trust you. But that does not mean I have to give my whole being into your hands; nor does it mean you can pick and choose my friends for me.'
Andy held her gaze. 'Similarly,' he said softly, 'may I remind you that I have known Serena for years. You have known her for only a very few days. My relationship with her is none of your business.'
There was a moment's silence.
She stepped back and gave a small nod. 'Touche'! As long as your relationship with her doesn't interfere with my relationship with her!' She turned sharply away from him to find Toby standing behind her. Beside him was Charley. Toby had, Anna realised suddenly, been holding Charley's arm.
'Is this a private war?' Toby gave her a wry grin. 'If not, we'd like to join in -'
He broke off as Charley lunged past him, breaking free of his restraining grip.
210.
'Andy, you bastard!' Her words were slurred. Her eyes were unfocused, wandering past him across the room and back as though she couldn't quite locate him. As Anna moved away she lurched forward, putting her hands out towards the bar. 'Andy? I have to do this for the goddess Sekhmet. She needs me, Andy. She wants me.' In the shocked silence that followed her words she stared round. 'Andy, what's happening?' Her voice was suddenly quite pathetic. 'Andy, what's happening to me?'
Anna turned at a slight pressure on her shoulder. It was Toby. He beckoned her away and with a hasty glance first at Charley then towards Andy, she followed him.
'Andy? What's wrong with me?' She could still hear the pathetic high-pitched voice as they got to the door.
'You're drunk.' Andy's harsh rejoinder could probably be heard by everyone in the room.
'No!' She burst into tears. 'No, I'm not. I haven't had anything.. .' Her voice trailed away. She stood for a moment, swaying slightly, then she crumpled slowly at his feet.
'Leave Andy to deal with her.' Toby ushered Anna towards the door. 'Let's go outside.'
'She doesn't look well.'
Sekhmet. Had Charley really mentioned Sekhmet? She shivered. As she followed Toby out onto the shaded afterdeck she was frowning. 'She didn't look drunk to me.'
'I don't know that she was necessarily drunk when she kicked up all that fuss at lunchtime.' Toby sounded thoughtful as they leant against the rail, looking out across the river. 'There was no smell of booze. I'd say she was ill. I suppose it could be the heat.' He shrugged. 'Perhaps someone should have a word with Omar.'
He turned round. 'Andy seems to have quite a few problems at the moment one way and another. And one of them seems to be with me.' His voice was light, casual as he changed the subject.
She was gazing down into the water. 'As you say, Andy has problems with a lot of people.' She glanced up at him suddenly. 'She did say Sekhmet, didn't she?'
He looked blank for a moment. 'Who?'
'Charley. Charley was talking about the goddess, Sekhmet.'
'Was she? She was ranting and raving like a mad woman. It was all I could do to hold her off long enough for you to have a go at 211.
him first.' He gave a mischievous grin. 'Don't read too much into anything she said. She really wasn't with us.'
Anna bit her lip. She was silent for a moment or two and Toby took the opportunity to study her face. 'Can I buy you a drink before dinner?' He stood away from the rail and glanced back towards the door. 'I suspect they have gone by now.
She shook her head. 'Thank you, but I think I'm going to go and have a quick word with Serena. I want her to know that that bastard is not going to keep me away from her.' She paused, scrutinising Toby's face, suddenly realising that this was the first time she'd been alone with him since Andy's revelation. How could she have forgotten it? But so much had happened, she had ignored it, pretended she hadn't heard. Certainly she hadn't believed it. Had she? She frowned, her eyes on his, then she shook her head. That was not the face of a murderer. If it was, she was the worst judge of character in the entire world.
Serena was nowhere to be found. Her cabin was in darkness, occupied solely by a quietly snoring Charley. She wasn't in Anna's cabin, or on the upper deck, nor was she in the still-empty dining room. Puzzled, Anna went back to her own cabin and sat down on the bed.
Where was she? She frowned. Surely she couldn't have gone ashore alone. The boat was not so big that someone could disappear on it. She must be in someone else's cabin. Ben's perhaps, or the Booths or one of the others.
With a weary sigh she sat down on the bed. There was half an hour till dinner. She could go back in the bar and have that drink with Toby, or she could lie down and perhaps have another look at the diary, to see what happened when Louisa got back onto the boat.
Changing out of her spray-soaked dress Louisa went back on deck to find the Forresters talking to Roger Carstairs as they looked down at the straining teams of men pulling the vessel up the rapids. Her 212.
face coloured as she saw him. She had hoped he would have gone back to his own boat which would be following them up the next day.
He turned to look at her and she was astonished at the expression of triumphant amusement he directed at her. She could, she suddenly realised, read him like a book. He was confident, completely secure that she remembered nothing of the incident on the rocks this afternoon, and faintly mocking. She shivered and felt as she had before, like a rabbit cowering before a weasel, unable to move or run. With an effort she tore her eyes away and stepped closer to Sir John, very aware of the comfort of his burly good-humoured solidity.
'So, Lord Carstairs,' she said from this position of security. 'You are presumably going back to your own vessel this evening? I should thank you for arranging the picnic for me.'
He bowed very slightly. His smile was a little lopsided she noticed for the first time. It gave him a vulpine look which was extremely unsettling. She felt herself shiver once again.
Sir John noticed. He put an arm round her shoulders and gave her a brief squeeze. 'Cold m'dear? It's all this spray.'
She smiled at him. 'I am a little.'
The night wind from the desert had not yet come and the sun, though about to disappear below the cliffs, was still radiating warmth. Only between the rocks and the low cliff faces was the air chill. The boat was calm suddenly. The men who had been manning the ropes to pull them up the rapids in the course of the day were vanishing one by one back in the direction of their villages and the splendid Nubian pilot, who had sat all day at the helm directing matters with almost regal dignity, had saluted first the reis then Sir John and finally he too had gone home. Tomorrow they would all be back for the last leg of the journey before returning to the foot of the cataract for the next vessel.
'Roger has agreed to accept our invitation to dinner, m'dear.' Sir John was beaming. 'He will go back to his boat later. We are here for the night. We will be pulled up the last rapids tomorrow, I understand, then we'll lie at Philae for a day or so and wait for the Fieldings to come up as well. It will be fun to go on in convoy as far as the second cataract.'
Louisa forced herself to smile; she forced herself to say the right things and then she excused herself to go once more below. In 213.
her cabin she stretched out on the bed, exhausted and depressed, thinking about Hassan as outside the sun went down in a blaze of gold.
The knock on the door made her sit up with a start. She must have fallen asleep. The cabin was in total darkness and as she groped for the candlestick she could see nothing around her at all. Another knock rang round the small space as the flame caught and she realised it must be Treece already, coming to help her dress for dinner. She had forgotten she had locked the cabin door. The shadows flared over the deep russets and golds of the rugs and hangings which decorated the small area as she groped her way to the door and unfastened it.
Roger Carstairs stood there, his head bowed beneath the low ceiling. With one swift movement he pushed her back into the cabin and stepped in after her, bolting the door behind him.
'How dare you!'
He pushed her sharply so that she collapsed backwards onto the bed and was forced to watch as he picked up the candlestick and swept it around, scrutinising her belongings.
'Where is it?' he hissed.
'Where is what?' She was at a disadvantage, sitting down, forced to look up at him but there was no room to stand without actually pushing him away. She shuddered. 'How dare you come in here?' she repeated. 'Get out! I'll call for help! There will be terrible trouble if you are found in here with me.'
'I don't think so.' He laughed. 'The Forresters wouldn't dare cross me, my oh so proper little Mrs Shelley. Especially when I tell them how eagerly you received my attentions this afternoon.' He reached down and caught her chin between iron fingers just as he had before, forcing her to look at him. 'Yes, you do remember. I shall have to be careful. You are wilful. You think you can resist me.' He breathed out heavily through his nose. 'So, Mrs Shelley. Where is it?'
'The scent bottle?' There was no point in pretending she didn't know what he meant. 'I've hidden it ashore.'
His eyes blazed. 'Not today. It was not possible today. Yesterday, then. You left it at Philae? Where?' He pushed her head back against the cabin wall. 'Tell me,' he whispered through gritted teeth.
The cabin had suddenly grown very cold. The candleflame flickered and streamed black threads of smoke. His eyes were dark 214.
pits, close to hers. She couldn't look away. Desperately she shut her eyes, trying not to breathe the unpleasant sweet scent of his breath. 'I'll never tell you.' She pushed her fist against his face and was rewarded with a quiet laugh.
'Oh, you'll tell me, sweetheart. Believe me, you'll tell me.' He caught her wrist. With a little gasp of pain she felt the small delicate bones crushed between his fingers. 'Help me!' Her cry was no more than a whisper. 'Anhotep, if you exist, help me now!'
The candle flared.
Carstairs laughed once more. 'So, our little widow invokes the high priest, but she doesn't know how.' He pushed her back so violently against the cabin wall that all the breath was knocked out of her body. 'Where is the bottle -' He broke off in mid-sentence. The boat was rocking violently. Above, on deck the reis looked over the side. A mooring rope had come loose and the Ibis had swung with the strong current. They heard the shouts and the thud of urgently running feet.
'Why?' she gasped. 'Why do you want it so badly?'
He stared down at her. 'I have to have it. It is imperative I have it. It is not a bauble for you to play with. It is a sacred chrismatory. It contains power. Power only I know how to use!' His eyes glittered feverishly as his hand tightened round her wrist.
'Anhotep!' Louisa struggled ferociously. 'Don't let him hurt me -'
As the candleflame flickered and streamed sideways in the tiny airless cabin she opened her eyes to peer past him towards the window. A figure stood there - misty, indistinct. Through him she could see the wall, the shutters, the shawl she had thrown down across the stool.
'Anhotep! Help me!' Her voice was stronger this time. Her fear of the man half-sprawled across her was greater by far than her fear of a shadow from the distant past.
Carstairs moved back slightly, aware of the change in the atmosphere in the small space aware of the strange behaviour of the candleflame. Noticing her gaze focused somewhere over his shoulder he glanced round towards the window and gasped. In a second he had pushed himself off the bed.
'Servant of Isis, greeting!' He bowed low, ignoring Louisa who cowered back on the bunk, making herself as small as possible.
215.
The cabin had become totally airless; the candleflame, a moment before flaring wildly and streaming smoke, had died to a tiny glow. In a second it would be out altogether. The figure was fading. Louisa launched herself off the bed towards the door, groping for the bolt. Frantically she scrabbled for it as the light died altogether. As the figure vanished totally Carstairs turned back towards her. She felt his hands groping for her shoulders just as her flailing fingers found the bolt. Desperately she pulled at it and felt it slide back but it was too late. He was dragging her away from the door, thrusting her back onto the bed. She drew breath to scream and felt his hand clamp over her mouth. Once again she heard him laugh. There was excitement in the sound now, and triumph.
At the very moment he began to rip open her blouse there was a loud knock at the cabin door.
216.Homage to thee, Amen-Ra who passest over the heaven, every face seeth thee. Men praise thee in thy name. Millions of years have gone over the world. Thou dost pass over and dost travel through untold spaces.Once more the sands drift here and there. The open abandoned tomb is buried yet again. The mummies are gone for ever to the dust of oblivion; only their names survive, safe on walls of rock. Centuries pass and the priests are shadows without substance, nothing in the sunlight, nothing beneath the moon, dying vows forgotten, spent anger no more than a sigh in the wind across the dunes. God has come to the Land of Kemet under a new name. The old gods of Egypt sleep. Their servants have lost their glory. It is 3000 years since the tomb was first sealed on the bodies of the two priests. The hand that digs the small forgotten bottle from the dune, 217.
as his father seeks for greater treasures in the night, is that of a child. The boy scrabbles it free with eager fingers and holds it aloft in delight, seeing the colours of the glass against the rising rays of the new-born sun. Coalescing from the breath of the dawn like so much moisture on the leaf of a papyrus, first one shadow then another looks down at the boy and smiles. Only the donkey senses the danger. Its ears lie back and it cries its fear into the empty desert wind.
The knock was repeated. Anna looked up, frowning. It was dark outside the open window and the only light came from the small bedside lamp. Confused, she put down the diary, her mind full of Louisa's terror. Standing up she went over to the cabin door and pulled it open, her thoughts still half in the dark smoky cabin of the dahabeeyah.
Ibrahim stood there, his empty tray under his arm. He gave her a look of grave anxiety. 'You are not well, mademoiselle? I was concerned that you were not at supper.' Behind him the corridor was empty.
She dragged herself back to the present with difficulty. 'I'm all right, Ibrahim. I'm sorry. I was reading and I didn't realise what time it was. I didn't hear the gong.' She rubbed her face wearily with the palms of her hands.
He was studying her closely and after a moment he seemed satisfied with what he saw. Slowly he nodded his head. 'I will bring you something to eat in your cabin.' He didn't wait for her to reply. He turned and walked away. She watched his slow stately gait. In his white galabiyya, his turban and his leather sandals he was a timeless figure, almost biblical. She turned back into the cabin, leaving the door ajar and stood staring thoughtfully out at the night. Poor Louisa. She must have been so afraid. And so angry. The words in the diary conveyed a mass of conflicting emotions as 218.
the small neat writing in faded brown ink moved steadily down the page, the only sign of her perturbation the way the lines drew closer together, the words more slanted, here and there, a careless stroke joining word to word as the writing speeded up, once or twice a fine spray of ink droplets from a nib pressed too hard too often.
'Mademoiselle?' A gentle knock and Ibrahim was in the doorway again. He had a tray with a glass of hibiscus juice and a plate of bread with a hard boiled egg and some cheese. He slid it onto the dressing table and gave her a grave smile. 'There is one other thing, mademoiselle.' He reached into his pocket and brought out something attached to a fine gold chain. She could see it as the links slid between his fingers.
'I would like you to wear this, mademoiselle.' He held it out to her. 'As long as you are on the boat. Please give it back to me the day you go home to England.'
She stared down at his hand, Then slowly she reached out her own. 'Ibrahim, what is it?'
He dropped a gold charm into her palm. It was small and intricately worked. 'It is the Eye of Horus. Allah yisallimak. May God protect thee. It will help to keep you safe.'
She found her mouth had gone dry. 'Safe from what?' She looked up and met his deep brown eyes. He held her gaze for several seconds before giving a small shrug. He looked down at the floor in silence.
'Ibrahim? Is this to do with the old gods? And with the cobra?' She swallowed.