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Authors: Barbara Erskine

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Whispers in the Sand (14 page)

BOOK: Whispers in the Sand
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“So, tell me about these strange feelings of yours.” Serena leant back against the cushions, her glass in her hand. She scanned Anna’s face intently for a moment, then she glanced back at the bar, where a particularly loud shout of laughter erupted from the group standing around Andy.

“It sounds a bit silly talking about it in cold blood.” Anna shrugged. “But someone mentioned you were interested in sort of psychic stuff.”

Serena smiled. “Sort of ? I suppose so. I gather this is to do with the man we saw at Edfu this morning?”

“Not him especially. He was real. But for some reason he made me feel nervous. He was watching us, and I keep getting this feeling that I’m being watched by someone. It’s nothing specific…” She broke off, not knowing quite how to go on.

“Start at the beginning, Anna. I find things are much more clear that way.” Serena was giving her her full attention now. “There is clearly something worrying you, and that’s a shame on what should be a lovely carefree holiday.”

“You don’t read Arabic, I suppose?”

Serena shook her head and laughed. “I’m afraid not.”

“I have a diary in my cabin.”

“Belonging to Louisa Shelley, I know.” She saw Anna’s face and laughed again. “My dear, it’s a small boat, and there aren’t very many of us. You don’t surely expect it to stay a secret?”

“I suppose not.” Anna was taken aback. She was thinking suddenly of Andy’s warning. “Well, in this diary there is a description of how Louisa was given a little glass bottle by her dragoman as a gift. I have inherited the bottle. With it was a piece of paper, which I also have, written in Arabic, saying that the bottle, which it claims is pharaonic in date, has a sort of curse on it. The original owner, a high priest in Ancient Egypt, is following it, and so is an evil spirit, because a secret potion is sealed into the glass. I know it sounds ridiculous, like something out of a film, but it’s worrying me…” Her voice trailed away in embarrassment.

“You have this bottle with you, on the boat?” Serena asked quietly. In the general hubbub Anna could hardly hear her.

She nodded, relieved that Serena had not laughed. “I brought it with me. I wish I hadn’t now. I don’t really know why except it seemed right to bring it back to Egypt. I’ve had it for years. I always assumed it was a fake. An antique dealer friend of my husband’s said it was a fake. Andy thinks it is a fake.”

“Andy Watson?” Serena’s voice was sharp. “What does he know about it? Have you shown it to him?”

“He saw it yesterday. He says masses of fakes were sold in Victorian times to gullible tourists.”

“He’s right, of course. But you don’t strike me as being gullible, and I am sure Louisa wasn’t either, nor her dragoman, if he had any integrity at all.” Serena paused for a moment. “And you are afraid of this curse?”

It wasn’t an accusation, merely a statement of fact.

Anna didn’t reply for a moment, then slowly she shrugged. “I’ve only known about it since last night.” She bit her lip with an embarrassed little laugh. “But I suppose, if I’m honest, it is beginning to get to me. Even before I knew the story, I had the strangest feeling there was someone watching me. I’ve been jumpy since I arrived in Egypt. Then once or twice I had the feeling that someone has been touching my things when the cabin door was locked and no one could have been there. I’ve tried to persuade myself I was dreaming or hallucinating or imagining it. I was tired after the visit yesterday and everything, but…” Once again she tailed off into silence.

“Let’s take things one at a time. Tell me what the note says as far as you understand it. I take it you have a translation?” Serena’s voice remained quiet, but firm. It had an attractive, deep quality which Anna found profoundly reassuring.

Serena thought for a while in silence after Anna had repeated it to her, staring down into the glass she had put down on the low table in front of them, while Anna anxiously watched her face.

“If Louisa felt there was a spirit guarding the bottle, then we must assume the bottle to be genuine, obviously,” she said at last. “And if it’s the same bottle that you have brought with you, then the chances are that it does have some kind of resonance about it.”

“Resonance?” Anna looked at her anxiously.

Serena laughed again. Anna was beginning to enjoy the deep, throaty gurgle. That too was reassuring. “Well, my dear, as I said, let’s take this one step at a time. Presumably you know you are of sound mind. When you had this strange feeling, you weren’t asleep; at least you can be sure you weren’t asleep the first time, as you had just stepped out of the shower! You were sober. You knew where you had left your bag. You have probably had your eyes tested at some time in the not too distant past, so why do you not believe them?”

“That’s easy. Because if the bag was moved and the bottle unwrapped, someone must have done it. I don’t believe in ghosts. I’m not psychic. After all, nothing has ever happened to it, or me, before. Oh, no,” Anna shook her head, “I can’t cope with that idea, I really can’t.”

Serena watched her thoughtfully. “Will you show me the bottle?”

“Of course. Come to my cabin after supper.” Anna bit her lip. “To tell you the truth, I’m a bit nervous about going back in there now. I don’t know what I’m going to find!”

“If it worries you so much, why not ask them to put the bottle in the boat’s safe with our passports and valuables?” Serena glanced up as, outside the restaurant in the depths of the boat, the gong began to ring.

They stood up and began to move towards the staircase which led down to the lower deck.

Anna shrugged. That’s a good idea. I might just do it.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe all this! It must be my imagination. After all, nothing ever happened before I read about it. If it’s true, why has nothing ever shown itself in London?”

Serena turned towards her. “Isn’t it obvious? You’ve brought it back to Egypt, my dear. It has come home.”

Unlocking the door later, Anna reached in and turned on the light. The small room was empty. Beckoning Serena inside, she closed the door behind them. They had lingered over supper with the others, but by an unspoken agreement had turned away from the lounge where the coffee was being served before Omar gave another talk to the assembled company. Tonight’s topic was Egyptian history since the days of the pharaohs.

It seemed crowded in the tiny cabin with two people in there. Serena sat down on the bed whilst Anna swung her suitcase down from the wardrobe. Setting it on the floor, she squatted down, unlocked it, and threw back the lid. “It’s here.” She reached into the pocket and pulled out the small, silk-wrapped bundle. Without removing the scarf, she handed it to Serena.

The cabin was very quiet. All the other passengers were in the lounge, watching as Omar set up a projector on the bar preparing to take them through Egypt’s more recent history. The two corridors on the boat, off which the ten cabins led, were empty. For the crew, it was their turn to eat. The river bank was dark and deserted. There was a gentle lap of water from outside the half open window and a dry, quiet rustle from the reeds as the wind began to rise, stealing subtly in from the desert.

Very carefully Serena began to unwrap the bottle. “It’s smaller than I expected.”

Anna sat down beside her. “It’s tiny.” She gave a nervous giggle. “So small, and it’s causing so much hassle.”

“Hush.” Serena pulled away the scarlet silk and dropped it on the bedcover. She was gazing down at the bottle lying on the palm of her hand. She stroked it with her finger. “It feels old. The glass is flawed. Bumpy.” Closing her eyes, she went on stroking with her fingertip, gently, scarcely touching it. “It’s old. Full of memories. Full of time.” Her voice was very soft. Dreamy. “This is real, Anna. It’s old. Very old.” She went on stroking. There is magic in this. Power.” There was a long silence. “I can see a figure with my mind’s eye. He’s tall. His eyes are piercing. They see through everything. Silver, like knife blades.” She was still, caressing the bottle with slow, gentle movements. “He has so much power,” she went on slowly, “but there is treachery there. He has enemies. He thinks himself invincible, but close to him there is hatred, greed. Someone, whom he thought a friend, is near him. Waiting. Drawing the darkness of secrecy around him. They serve different gods, but he has not realised it. Not yet…” Her voice trailed away into silence. Anna held her breath, watching mesmerised as the fingertip with its neat, oval, unpolished nail stroked gently on. “There is blood here, Anna.” Serena spoke again at last, her voice a whisper. “So much blood—

and so much hate.”

“You’re making it up.” Anna backed a step away from her. She leant against the door. “You’re frightening me!” Suddenly she was shivering uncontrollably. Was it this which had woken Louisa and frightened her in the darkness?

Slowly Serena looked up. Her eyes found Anna’s face, but she wasn’t seeing it. Her pupils were huge; unfocused.

“Serena?” Anna whispered. “Serena, please!”

There was another long silence, then abruptly Serena rubbed her eyes. She smiled uncertainly. “What did I say?”

“Don’t you know?” Anna didn’t move from her position near the door.

Serena looked down at the little bottle still lying in her hand. With a shiver, she let it fall onto the bed. “It is old. Very old.” she repeated, her voice completely flat.

“You said.” Anna swallowed. Her eyes were riveted to the bottle lying on the bed. “But what was all that other stuff? About the blood?”

Serena’s eyes opened wide. “Blood?” There was a moment’s silence, then she looked away. “Oh shit!” She put her hands to her face. “I didn’t mean that to happen. Forget it, for goodness sake. I’m sorry. Don’t believe anything I said, Anna.” She reached out towards the bottle, changed her mind, and stood up, leaving it where it was. “I have a tendency to be melodramatic. Take no notice. The last thing I meant to do was scare you.”

“But you did.”

“Did I?” For a moment Serena stood gazing into her face, as if trying to read her thoughts. Then she shrugged and looked away. “They must have finished the talk by now. Why don’t we go to the lounge and have a drink?” She bent over the bed and reached out to the bottle. The hesitation was only momentary, then she picked it up and firmly rewrapped it in the silk square. She held it out to Anna. “I should get Omar to put it in the safe for you. I think it probably is genuine.” Her voice was still strangely flat.

Anna took it reluctantly. She held it for a moment, then she stooped and tucked it back in the suitcase. “Later. I will. When there’s someone at the desk.” She opened her mouth to ask another question, then she changed her mind. Grabbing her purse, she reached for the door handle. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Drinks in hand, they made their way through the lounge, where the others had settled in groups round the low tables, and they stepped out onto the open covered deck where the tables and chairs were deserted. Anna shivered. “There’s a cold wind.”

“I don’t mind. It’s wonderful—cleansing. Such a relief after the heat of the day.” Serena shook her head. “Let’s climb up onto the sundeck.”

She led the way up to the front of the boat, where Anna had been asleep earlier. All was in darkness up there as they looked down on the string of small, coloured lights around the awning of the lower deck. Looking up, they could see the velvety black of the sky and the intense brightness of the stars. They stood leaning on the rail looking out across the river. The night was somehow more silent for the sounds of talk and laughter wafting out of the doors below them.

Anna fixed her eyes on the wavy reflections in the dark water below them. “How did you do it?” She took a sip from her glass.

Serena didn’t pretend not to know what she was talking about. She shrugged. “They call it psychometry. It’s a kind of clairvoyance, I suppose. Reading an object. I’ve always been able to do it, since I was a child. It was what first drew me to the study of psychic phenomena. In children it’s called a vivid imagination. In adults…” she paused. “Eccentricity. Lunacy. Schizophrenia. Take your pick.” There was the slightest touch of bitterness in her voice for a second, then it was gone. “It’s not something to be cultivated lightly, as you can imagine, but it has its uses. Sometimes.”

Anna was still gazing down at the water. “What did your husband think about it?”

“Ah.” Serena smiled ruefully. “Another woman, of course, goes unerringly to the crux of the problem. He vacillated between thinking me delightfully scatty and certifiably insane. But to do him credit, he never tried to get me actually locked up.” Her quiet laugh made Anna glance up at last.

Serena stood back from the rail and sat down on one of the chairs. Leaning back with a sigh, she stared up at the stars. “We were very happy. I adored him. I kept all this stuff firmly under the hatches as much as I could while he was alive. Then, when he died,” she paused, “I suppose it was rather like coming out. I found kindred spirits. I read. I talked. I wrote. I studied. Charley thinks I’m mad, but she’s not there much, and frankly I don’t care what she thinks. I began to study Egyptian mysticism two years ago, and I came out here to get a feel of the place in a group before coming back on my own.”

BOOK: Whispers in the Sand
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