'No. As chat up lines go, I can do better.' He smiled again. 'What is it, Anna? Your hands are shaking.'
She wrapped her arms around herself self-consciously. 'I'm all right.'
'No. You're not all right. Is it the sight of me, or is it that damn diary again?' He had spotted it lying on the bed. 'Anna, forgive me for saying so, but if it upsets you, and it's taking up so much of your time that you are missing the excursions you have paid thousands of pounds to come and see, is it wise to go on doing it?' He held her gaze for a moment, his expression fierce. 'Why not junk it? No, I didn't mean that, it's too valuable. Put it away. Read it when you get home, sitting in the garden.'
'I can't. I need to know what happens.' It came out as a wail.
'Need to?' His voice was marginally softer suddenly. 'Why? What's so important?' 'It's about the scent bottle. Someone was trying to steal it from her. She thought it was cursed in some way.' She pulled herself up short. She was rambling.
Toby was still looking down at the diary. 'And you too think that the bottle might be cursed?'
She glanced up, expecting him to be laughing at her, but his face was perfectly serious.
'Will you show it to me, Anna? Watson thinks it's a fake, doesn't he? He's made no secret of the fact. I'm not an expert but I do have a feel for things.'
She hesitated, then suddenly making up her mind she went over to the dressing table and pulled out the drawer. She handed him the bottle, wrapped as it was in her scarf. He unwound the piece of silk and dropped it on the bed, then he brought the bottle up close to his face and squinted at it with one eye closed. She watched as he ran his fingers gently over the surface, finding herself strangely fascinated by the way he stroked the glass and ran his thumb over the seal, then held it out at arm's length, with it lying on his palm, as though guessing its weight. 'It feels right to me.' He glanced up at her. 'Hand blown. Rough 231.
surface with a lot of imperfections, crude in some ways, but more than that.' He frowned, running his finger over it again. 'I can feel its age. Don't ask me how, but I can.'
'Andy said the top was machined,' she put in quietly.
'Crap. He doesn't know anything about glass if he says that. And he calls himself a dealer! No,' he ran his forefinger over the seal, 'no, it's not machine made. I couldn't date it for you. A museum would have to do that.'
'But it is Egyptian?' She looked up at him.
'Does Louisa Shelley say it is?'
'Oh yes.' She bit her lip.
'Then it's Egyptian.' He gave her a reassuring smile. 'Anna, why not find a nice bit of diary to read?' he suggested suddenly. 'Something cheerful. There must be nice bits in it. Then put it away for now and come sailing. Can I try and find you a cheerful bit to read?'
She hesitated.
'I won't damage it, I promise. I'll just glance through and look at the writing. You can tell a lot from writing, you know.' He paused and when she didn't say anything else he sat down on the bed and began to leaf carefully through the diary beyond the place she had marked.
She stood watching him without a word, wondering why she had let him, why she had invited him in, why she had shown him the bottle. Why she felt more comfortable with him than she did, she now realised, with Andy. In spite of Andy's accusations, accusations which, she acknowledged thoughtfully, she never had for one moment believed!
He looked up suddenly. 'Here. Look. This seems to be a good bit. See, the writing is springy and even and the picture is cheerful. Can I read it to you?' Shrugging, she sat down on the stool.
232.Hassan had returned the day they moored at Philae. The Scarab had moored a stone's throw from them and the Fieldings' dahabeeyah a few yards beyond that. With quiet dignity Hassan had accepted Sir John's explanation that it had all been a misunderstanding and he had slipped quietly back into the life of the boat as though he had never been away, except that now, Louisa knew, the Forresters must have guessed that her relationship with him was more friendly than any of them chose publicly to admit.
It was dark when Louisa crept out on deck to find Hassan waiting to row her ashore. 'I have told the Forresters that I wish to paint the river in the moonlight,' she said quietly. 'They no longer try to stop me, and I believe Lord Carstairs is aboard the Lotus, discussing the taking of photographs with Mr Fielding who has brought a camera with him, so we should be undisturbed.'
'Save for the baksheesh boys.' Hassan smiled. 'They are here day and night.' 'And can be bought off?'
'Oh indeed. They can be bought off.' He nodded.
A huge moon shone across the water, throwing black shadows across the sand They walked slowly, taking in the intense beauty of the night. All around them the temple pillars, the distant hills, the dunes, the sand, had turned from gold to glittering silver.
'We will go up on the wall,' Hassan whispered. 'I'll show you.'
Carefully they climbed the worn steps, pitch-black inside the darkness of the stone to emerge once more into the moonlight. It was cooler up there and Louisa pulled a shawl round her shoulders. They could see the whole island beneath them with the three moored boats like small toys in the distance. To the north they could see the islands of the cataracts with the rapids and spray, all silver in the moonlight. To the south the broad, slowly flowing river curved away out of sight. Immediately beneath them the 233.
huge temple lay silent and mysterious, great pools of blackness interspersed with the silvered columns.
'You wish to paint up here, Sitt Louisa?' Hassan's whisper was somehow shocking in the silence.
She nodded. 'Are we safe here, Hassan?'
He was unsure whether she had meant from Carstairs, or from the spirits. Perhaps from both. 'We are safe. I shall unpack.' He began to spread out the rug.
The river was totally silent beneath them. On the Ibis the Forresters were already in their cabin. On the Lotus, the Fieldings and their guest, having exhausted the intricacies of the new camera, were sitting on deck, enjoying a sherbet as Venetia read to them from one of the novels of Jane Austen.
Louisa sketched the scene for a long time, every now and then so overwhelmed by the surrounding beauty that she sat spellbound, her pencil at a standstill on the paper. Hassan sat cross-legged a few feet from her. He had seemed reserved since he had returned. Quieter. More thoughtful.
'You think much, my friend?' she said at last.
'I watch the night. And I watch you.' He smiled.
'And I you. Look.' She held out the sketchbook to him. There was a small picture of him; thoughtful, handsome, the wry smile playing round his eyes unmistakable. 'You do me much honour, Sitt Louisa.'
'I show only the truth.'
She leant forward. 'I told Sitt Augusta that we would sleep in the temple if we grew tired of the moon.'
He nodded gravely. 'I have cushions and rugs. Then you may watch the sunrise.' 'We will watch it together.' She reached across and touched his hand - just the gentlest of movements.
He moved closer to her. 'When they sent me away I thought my heart would cease to beat for unhappiness,' he said at last. 'You have been my sun and my moon and the stars of my heaven, Sitt Louisa.'
Slowly he leant across and touched her lips with his own. She closed her eyes. The rush of warmth and happiness which enfolded her drove everything out of her mind but the gentle handsome man who had put his arms around her.
'Keep us safe, great Isis, and hidden from prying eyes, I beg you.'
234.
Her murmured prayer rose into the darkness and spun out towards the moon as, far below them on the river, Lord Carstairs stood up and stretched, made his farewells to the Fieldings in their saloon, and emerged on deck to stand for a moment staring through the palm trees on the river bank, towards the temple standing so serenely on its island in the moonlight.
There was a long silence. Toby closed the diary and laid it on the bedside table.
'So, Louisa Shelley found love in Egypt,' he said at last. 'Does that please you? Can you put away the book and relax and enjoy yourself now? There was no mention of curses there. Or evil spirits.'
She smiled. 'You're right. Yes, I'll put it away.
'And you'll come sailing?'
She glanced at her watch. 'If it's not too late.'
'It's not too late.' He stood up. 'You get dressed and I'll check there's a boat left for us and see if I can persuade Ali or Ibrahim to give us some sandwiches. I can't promise Persian rugs and moon- lit trysts, but we'll do our best.' He was just turning to the door when he stopped. 'Anna, forgive me, asking a personal question, but what is that charm you are wearing round your neck? I haven't seen it before, have I?'
She put her hand to it quickly. 'It's to keep me safe.' She gave him a wry smile. 'It's called the Eye of Horus.'
He nodded. 'Well, I'm sure it's doing its job. See you in a few minutes.'
She met him on deck and found that there had indeed been a felucca left from the cluster around the stern of the boat which earlier had taken the rest of the passengers off on a morning of individual excursions.
Helping her to make herself comfortable in the boat Toby scrambled back onto The White Egret twice, once to fetch his own 235.
sketchbook and once to ask All for a couple of extra cans of juice, before at last he climbed in beside her and allowed their boatman to sail slowly away, swooping gently towards the further bank where the reeds reflected in the still water. It was heaven to settle onto the worn cushions, glancing up at the huge triangular sail, with its darker patches, white against the intense blue of the sky. With a sigh of deepest pleasure Anna rummaged in her bag for her camera.
'Happy?' Toby glanced at her in amusement as she leant back to photograph the sail.
'Very. Thank you for digging me out of my cabin.'
He was sitting arm outstretched along the side of the boat, his hand close to her shoulder. His bag lay on the boards by their feet. He had kicked off his shoes, she noticed, and his feet on the warm planking were as brown as those of their steersman. He smiled. 'You needed rescuing. Like Rapunzel.'
'You think I've let down my hair?' She laughed.
'I think you're on the way.'
There was a gentle ripple of water under the bow as the boat turned and caught the wind. The sail flapped once and then filled, a white wing against the blue. She reached for her camera again. The boatman, standing effortlessly on the bow near the mast, was staring across the water towards the far bank, his hand shielding his eyes. His profile, against the sail, was, she realised straight off a temple relief - the high forehead, the huge almond-shaped eyes, the planes of the cheeks, the angle of lips and chin. She aimed the camera at him, wondering if he would mind her taking the photo but already he had seen what she was doing. His face had split into a huge grin and he struck a pose for her, balancing, one arm looped around the mast.
'Do it again when he's not looking.' Toby's quiet advice in her ear made her smile. He was partly right. The unselfconscious grace had been good, but this pose was part of the scene as well. The constant interaction with the tourists, the game played by both parties: the people of the Nile pandering to the expectations of the visitors; the visitors bringing much-needed currency and very seldom any very stretching demands. On the whole the relationship seemed to work very well. The good nature and the humour of the Egyptians allowed them to keep a balance. If there was resentment there, or a sense of exploitation, it was well hidden.
Anna closed her eyes and let her head fall back, allowing the 236.
sun under the brim of her hat. The heat on her face was sudden and intense and she could see the violent scarlet of her eyelids. She drew back hastily and as she did so the steersman put his tiller across, his companion stepped away from the mast and sat down opposite her to adjust the sheet, the boat swung round and the shadow of the sail fell across her face. The new figure on the prow of the boat, balancing easily on the planking in his gilded sandals, was staring out across the water, his arms outstretched, his head raised as he looked up directly at the sun. She gasped and the three men with her in the body of the boat glanced at her.
'Anna?' Toby touched her arm. 'Are you OK?'
She swallowed. The figure had gone. Of course it had gone. It had never been there. It was the shadow of the boatman, or a fleeting mirage in the transparency of the hot air above the boat.
She shook her head. 'Sorry. I got the sun in my eyes.
'That is not good, missee.' The boatman shook his finger at her. 'Very dangerous.
She shrugged and nodded and looked repentant, pulling down the brim of her hat. She didn't see Toby's frown or notice the way he leant forward to stare past her at the front of the boat.Pre-lunch drinks were being served in the bar when they returned and it appeared that Andy had already bought her one. 'Specially for you!' He presented it to her with a flourish. 'To say sorry. I won't interfere any more and I won't be bossy.' The boyish charm was firmly in place.
Anna glanced over her shoulder at Toby and saw the swiftly hidden sardonic grin. He winked at her. Then he raised his hands in surrender. 'Inshallah,' he whispered. He put his hands together in mock salute. 'You drink with the effendi.' Turning away he made his own way to the bar and she saw Ali reaching for a bottle of Egyptian beer.
Anna turned to Andy. 'It's not a question of forgiveness, Andy. It's just that I want to be able to speak to Serena whenever I like without your interruption. Where is she now?'
He shrugged. 'I don't know. I genuinely don't know. Perhaps the felucca she was on hasn't come back yet, but when it does, I shall buy her a drink, kiss her feet, pat her hand, anything you like.'
Anna smiled. 'Just being nice would be enough.'
237.
'Then I shall be nice.' He grinned hugely. 'I am nice. I am always nice to everyone.' He slapped Ben on the back as the latter walked past him. 'Aren't I, Ben?'
'You sound as though you're high on something, my friend,' Ben responded jovially. 'But if it means that you're going to buy me a drink as well, then I'm all for it, whatever it is.'
Andy gave him a knowing smile. 'It's sunshine, Ben old chap. That's all.' He swung round suddenly. 'And here's Serena. And Charley with her.'
The two women had appeared in the doorway side by side.
'Andy's buying, girls. I should order something exotic and expensive,' Ben put in mischievously.
'Cocktails for the two ladies?' Ali had been following the conversation with great care and now smiled hopefully. 'Ali make very good cocktails. Lots of things. Very expensive.'
Serena shook her head. 'No thank you. Some fruit juice would be lovely.'
'I'll have one.' Charley climbed onto a bar stool. 'A cocktail with as many things as you can think of, All.' Her eyes were feverishly bright and the sun had caught her skin, dusting it with a fine scattering of freckles. She was wearing a low-cut sundress and around her neck there were some turquoise beads.
Serena took her guava juice and retreated to a sofa. After a minute Anna followed, leaving the others clustered around the bar.
'We need to talk soon.' Anna sat down next to her. She had realised as she moved away from the bar that Toby was nowhere to be seen.
'So, where did you get to?' Serena looked gloomily into her glass.
'I went sailing too with Toby.' Anna glanced at her, conscious that she was blushing slightly. Serena did not notice. 'I saw the priest Anhotep again today,' she went on. 'At least -' She hesitated. 'I think I did. On the felucca.'
Serena looked up, surprised. 'Did you take the bottle with you, then?'
'No. It's still in my cabin. it doesn't seem to make any difference what I do. I keep seeing him.'
Serena pulled a face. She shrugged. 'I hope that he hasn't attached himself to you.'
'Attached himself to me?' Anna forced herself to lower her voice again. 'You are joking I hope. Dear God! You mean I'm possessed!'
238.
'No!' Serena sat forward sharply. 'No, that's exactly what I don't mean!' Her eyes were fixed on Charley at the bar and she frowned as she watched her. Shrugging, she turned back to Anna. 'No, you mustn't get the wrong idea. In no way are you possessed, but he might have formed an energetic attachment to you. That means he has -' she looked around with a helpless wave of her hand - 'it's as if he's using you as a petrol tank. He's low on gas because he doesn't have a body of his own so he's got to borrow someone else's to give himself the energy to move around and show himself. He's put a sort of suction pipe into your energy field so he can use your energy and that means he's staying near you all the time.'
Anna shuddered. 'I do hope you are wrong.' She took a sip from her glass and in spite of herself shivered violently once more. 'How can I get rid of him?'
'If you are strong-willed, your intention might be enough.'
'I am strong-willed.'
'Then next time you see him, tell him to go.
'I tried that! I screamed at him, told him to take the bottle and leave me alone. He didn't appear. Nothing happened.'
'Wait until you see him, Anna. Then speak to him. Don't be afraid or angry, that will weaken you. Just be strong and loving.'
'Loving!' Anna stared at her. 'I don't think so! How could I love him?' She was indignant.
'Love conquers all, Anna.' Serena gave a wistful smile. 'Especially hate and fear.' 'No. No, I'm sorry. I don't happen to believe that. Sadly.' Anna took another sip from her glass. 'And I think our friend would see it as a weakness;' She stared down at her sandalled feet. 'There were two priests, weren't there,' she went on thoughtfully. 'What happened to the other one?' She glanced up.