Chapter Four

Returning from a long walk in the nearby reserve to work off her fury over Sam, Elizabeth headed to Taid’s library. A wall of Welsh choir music hit her ears as soon as she opened the door. She quickly turned down the volume on his stereo.

The air was filled with a divine perfume from the hybrid tea roses growing in the library’s courtyard.

‘Dr Pimms, I presume?’ Taid called to her. ‘Come on out,’ he added, pouring her a cup from his Cornish Blue teapot.

Paris, who had been lounging outside beside the courtyard’s tiled fountain, jumped onto Elizabeth’s lap as she sat down. A fur-shedding hot water bottle on a summer’s day wasn’t comfortable, but Paris’s purring was reassuring so Elizabeth let her stay.

‘Beth bach,’ Taid said, looking at her intently. ‘We must talk.’

‘I know, I know.’

‘You don’t normally react so badly to Samantha’s goading. Is it because you were upset by that woman at work?’

‘No…’

‘All right, then. What did you mean, Samantha is ruining your life? Do you mean she isn’t contributing like you at the moment, or does this go back to the car accident again?’

Elizabeth bit down on her exasperation. The car accident that killed their mother – the car accident Sam was responsible for – had left Matty with severely damaged growth plates in both hips, requiring years of surgical intervention. Intervention that Elizabeth was paying for.

‘Of course it’s the car accident,’ she growled. Paris leapt from her lap.

‘Beth. Samantha has always maintained she wasn’t playing with the tennis ball.’

How could he defend Sam? ‘Come on, Taid, of course she was. Sam does whatever she wants, whenever she wants. She’s the reason Mum’s dead. She’s the reason I can’t be an archaeologist. And she’s the reason I can’t be with Luke. If she hadn’t killed Mum, Mum would still be here to look after all of you instead of me!’

Taid drew breath to speak when a sound from the library made them both turn. It was only Loki, disturbed by Elizabeth’s outburst, scrambling from her perch atop the bookcases onto the spiral staircase.

‘Samantha is dreadfully hurt that you blame her for Annie’s death.’ Taid’s voice cracked slightly at the mention of his only daughter.

‘That’s not true,’ Elizabeth said between gritted teeth. ‘Sam doesn’t care how I feel.’

‘No, I’m sorry,’ Taid said firmly, ‘on that you’re wrong. As a little girl Samantha adored you, worshipped you even. But for some reason you never wanted her around. It hurts her terribly.’

‘She just never shut up when we were little. I couldn’t think when she was around. She still rabbits on endlessly about one stupid cause or another. Maybe if she stopped talking and did some actual work she might get somewhere in life.’

Taid sighed. ‘Perhaps you can’t see it, but Samantha is doing better. She helps Cho, she’s drinking less, and she’s determined to pass her units this semester.’

‘You think she actually helps Nainai?’

‘Yes, she does. And Cho is improving.’

That was something, at least. Nainai Cho’s grief had been a terrible thing. Elizabeth’s mind still shrank from the memory of Nainai at the funeral, clawing at her son’s grave, shrieking in Chinese that they were suffocating him.

‘It’s more than Sam, though, isn’t it?’ prompted Taid.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I can see you’re struggling with something else. Are you sure the run-in at work didn’t upset you more than you realise?’

‘No. Well, maybe.’

‘What did she say?’

‘She called me a spoilt princess and told me I was lucky just to have had Dad.’

‘Nonsense.’ Taid paused. ‘I don’t understand the comment about William.’

‘Neither do I.’

‘Does this mean we need to send you to work next week in a tiara?’ Taid asked slyly.

‘No!’ Elizabeth poked her tongue out at him; he pretended to grab at it.

‘Okay,’ said Taid, sitting back in his chair. ‘Not the woman at the Library. Not Sam. So there’s definitely something else bothering you then.’

‘I wish you wouldn’t do that. It’s not fair.’

‘One day you will be as wise as I am, and someone will say the same to you.’ Taid winked.

‘Fine,’ said Elizabeth, slouching forward. ‘Yes. The truth is, I miss working in archaeology dreadfully, and it plays on my mind all the time, but I also can’t bear to be reminded of it. I keep seeing this image of me in a prison, looking out through the bars at the life I want, a life I earnt.’ Elizabeth’s voice dropped. ‘It hurts, that’s all. And I never wanted to be a librarian, Taid. You know that.’

‘I see.’ Taid reached over the table to take her hand. ‘You’re following in a great family tradition, though. There are librarians in every branch of your family…’

He caught her rolling her eyes.

‘…but yes, cariad, I know. I was the one who showed you the Phaestos Disc for the first time, remember, when you were just four?’

Elizabeth smiled. Her journey into archaeology began that very day. She had been fascinated by the image of the cryptic Minoan writing on a small circle of clay. She still was.

‘I watched you light up from the inside,’ Taid continued. ‘One tome of archaeological mysteries, and it’s been rusty trowels ever since.’

‘I never let my trowels get rusty, thank you very much!’

Taid paused again.

‘Beth bach, I have to be honest with you. All financial considerations aside, even though it’s causing you sadness, the truth is your grandmothers and I prefer that you are here and not in Mexico with Luke.’

‘What? Why?’

‘Because we have lived through wars,’ Taid’s voice was plaintive. ‘Wars, and worse. We’ve lost so many, not least your mother, and now your father. We’re still raw from losing him and…we can’t know how many years we have left.’

Elizabeth drew breath to protest, but Taid held up a hand.

‘Please, let me finish. For now we want you here, not only for our sake, but for yours. Here, you live in safety, in a beautiful house, in a peaceful city. You are surrounded by a family that loves and cares for you. These are gifts of great value, my Snowden lily, not to be taken lightly.’

Taid looked at Elizabeth expectantly. How could she respond to such an earnest appeal?

‘You think that even though I can’t continue with my real work,’ Elizabeth said, flicking her cartouche back and forth between her fingers, ‘it’s not so important in the grand scheme of things.’

‘I know it sounds harsh, but yes. After all, as much as you’re frustrated by your hiatus from archaeology, is it really so bad that you need us to abandon our plan? Because if you feel strongly enough about it, we could still sell the house and move somewhere smaller, and pay for Mathieu’s treatment that way.’

Elizabeth recalled her impulse to run away to Mexico and blushed. ‘No, Taid, we can’t lose the house. And I won’t go back on my promises.’

Taid patted her hand again and smiled. ‘Still, it would be better if we could find a way to release you from that prison, so you don’t feel so torn.’

Elizabeth cocked her head to one side. ‘Such as?’

‘First, let’s remember Hoover, Zedong and Casanova. They all started out as librarians you know.’

Elizabeth groaned. ‘Yes, of course I know. How many times have you told us?’

Taid chuckled. ‘So, if they could go on to become a director of the FBI, the father of the Chinese Cultural Revolution and a world-famous paramour, you can go on to become a world-renowned archaeologist.’

Elizabeth smiled at the thought of ‘world-renowned’.

‘And, I’m sure they weren’t just librarians. Outside of working hours they would have spent plenty of time pursuing their passions by reading, studying and debating. Have you considered doing that?’

‘Of course, but…’

Gingerly, Elizabeth prodded the memory of leaving the dig in Egypt. For the first time since returning to Australia, the searing loss of walking away from her life’s work didn’t threaten to completely overwhelm her.

‘Maybe,’ Elizabeth said slowly. ‘Up until now I couldn’t stand to read about other people’s discoveries. Childish, perhaps, but true. But I’d be willing to give it a go, read a few articles, see how it feels.’ It was possible that it might ease the aching hollowness inside.

‘It’s a start,’ Taid nodded. ‘And as for Samantha? Even if you two can’t be reconciled, for everyone’s sake, could you try not to bite when she needles you?’

Elizabeth harrumphed. ‘Sure, I’ll try.’

Taid gave her hand a gentle squeeze. ‘Excellent. Now, why don’t we talk about something else? How’s Tanya?’

As they chatted, Elizabeth was soothed by the courtyard’s tinkling fountain, the fragrant roses, and the purring cat who had returned to her lap. Finally, it was time to wash up for dinner.

Passing back through Taid’s library Elizabeth realised something was amiss. What had changed? She closed her eyes and compared a mental snapshot of the library as it had been when she first entered that afternoon. There: poking out from behind a pile of books on the desk, the spout of another teapot.

Elizabeth touched the side of the pot. It was cold. Grandmère Maddie must have brought it in while Elizabeth was talking with Taid, and decided not to disturb them. Grandmère and Taid were so lovely to each other. Elizabeth yearned for the day she and Luke lived together, sharing those little moments of compassion and understanding.

—

Three months later, Canberra was settling in for a long, cold winter. The airport was fogged-in on most mornings, delaying hundreds of public servants and businesspeople. Scarves, hats and gloves emerged from storage all across the city. At home the cats had become heat-seeking missiles, snuggling in to any stationary human.

Icy rain drove through Elizabeth’s clothes as she dashed across the Library car park, her satchel pressed to her side. She felt seasonal in her ensemble of russet-coloured jeans and forest-green jacket. Her outfit even complemented the slippery orange leaves that threatened her footing as she ran.

Splashing through the puddles lining the Library’s front stairs, Elizabeth thought about the imminent end of her first rotation. It seemed a shame, really. She had grown to quite like her work in Maps. Subject matter aside, the intricacies of describing and cataloguing the drawings were similar to the detailed analyses she carried out on archaeological artefacts.

Squelching across the Library’s enormous marble foyer, she consoled herself with the thought that she would return to Maps at the end of the graduate year. After an inauspicious first week, Elizabeth had made friends with Lynton and Nathan and she looked forward to working with them again. She had also managed to avoid any further confrontations with Mai. If Elizabeth spotted her in the corridors or canteen, she’d turn around and walk the other way.

Gambolling down the stairs to the Maps wing, Elizabeth pushed away the remaining ache for her other life. She had dreamt of Luke again last night, probably because they Skyped last weekend. Luke had laughingly reported that his team’s fortnightly binge on tequila, tacos and television noticeably boosted the local economy. If she thought about Luke too much it made her want to abandon her family and fly to him…Enough, she told herself. Stay focused on the now.

At least she could look forward to Skyping with Tanya this weekend. Working on a dig in Mongolia, Tanya braved a full day’s trip once a month on bone-jarring roads to reach modern facilities for two nights. They joked that Tanya spent half her downtime in the bathtub, and the other half asleep on a real mattress.

Settling in at her desk, Elizabeth realised Taid had been partially right. By immersing herself in work during the day, and reading about archaeological discoveries at night, time was passing without hurting too much. Whenever she stopped, though, she was aware of a ball of frustration churning beneath her ribs.

At mid-morning her mobile phone rang. She didn’t recognise the number.

‘Hello, Elizabeth speaking.’

‘Hola, Elizabeth! It’s Juan. Juan Marengo de Montoya. We did honours together, at university?’

Heat tingled unpleasantly in Elizabeth’s chest at the surprise. Juan had not been a reliable classmate.

‘Ahh…Hello Juan. How are you?’

‘I am good, very good. And you, Elizabeth, how are you?’

‘Well, I’m at work at the moment. I’m working at the Mahony Griffin.’

‘Yes, Luke told me.’

Juan had spoken to Luke? When? He hadn’t mentioned Juan when they’d Skyped on the weekend.

‘I am back in Canberra for just a short time,’ Juan continued. ‘I wished to see you, perhaps this afternoon?’

If Elizabeth didn’t want to talk to Juan over the phone, she certainly didn’t want to see him in person. She wouldn’t say no, though: if Juan had news of Luke…

‘You said you’ve seen Luke? When?’

‘It was before I came back to Australia. It seems to me that he has some big news, some very big news, yes?’

Elizabeth’s curiosity was piqued. ‘What news?’

‘I wish to tell you in the person, please, Elizabeth.’

Why was Juan dancing around like this?

‘Well, I suppose I could meet you for a coffee during my break this afternoon. At the Library’s upstairs cafe. Three o’clock?’

‘Yes, Elizabeth. That is a good time for me. I think you will be happy to hear my news.’ Juan hung up.

Strange conversation, Elizabeth thought. But worthwhile if Juan had news of Luke.

—

That afternoon Elizabeth sat in Addendum opposite her favourite stained-glass window, lost in its colours. Shards of blood red, royal purple and deepest yellow described a Celtic cross. She licked a speck of cappuccino froth from her upper lip, pondering the forthcoming conversation with Juan.

Elizabeth decided she should wait at least three exchanges in the conversation before asking Juan about her boyfriend. Three was polite enough, surely? She spotted Juan striding across the Library foyer towards the cafe.

Juan saw her and waved. He was stocky and muscular, with jet-black hair and a deep tan. He should have been attractive, but to Elizabeth he wasn’t. He had relied on those good looks all too often during their undergraduate degree, using them to get female students to do his work for him. During group assignments, he sat back and let Elizabeth and others make all the effort.

‘Hola, Elizabeth. And how are you?’ Juan grasped her right hand in both of his, holding it a fraction too long. Elizabeth noticed he still spoke English with a trace of a lisp, an affectation he brought from his native Castilian.

‘Good Juan, thanks. Did you find a car park okay?’

Greetings count as one courtesy exchange, right?

‘Yes, it was easy. The Library is beautiful, no?’

‘Yes, very beautiful. Especially these wonderful windows. Would you like a coffee?’

That was two.

‘Yes.’

Juan turned and walked back to the front of the cafe to order his coffee. Damn! Elizabeth wondered if she had to start the politeness count again.

As Juan settled back at the table, Elizabeth asked, ‘So, tell me about the site you’re working on. In northern Mexico, right? What’s it like working there?’

If Juan answered this, surely that would count as three, and she could steer the conversation deliberately Lukewards.

‘No, I’m not working at Tajinel any more. I have moved to a more important Olmec site in central Mexico, Juluwik. A much more important site!’

Elizabeth was perplexed. Tanya, who kept Elizabeth in­formed of their classmates’ progress, had mentioned that Juan was almost six years into the seven-year maximum for finishing his doctorate. Surely moving to a new archaeological site would cause him even further delays. How would he finish in time?

‘What do you mean? Why have you moved sites?’

‘Elizabeth, I have fallen in love with the most wonderful girl in the world.’

What on Earth did this have to do with his doctorate?

‘Yes, Elizabeth,’ he continued, ‘I fell in love with my amada Lupita, Lupita Martinez, when first I arrived in Mexico, just six years ago. She is my only care since…’

Juan was clearly besotted, but why was he telling her this?

‘…well, my first care. I must finish my PhD, of course. This is an important thing, too.’

Elizabeth settled her face into a polite smile. Juan wasn’t her friend at university, and she didn’t particularly care about the lack of progress on his thesis or his love life. Was meeting him for coffee going to be a complete waste of time?

‘I should have finished my doctorate when you did,’ said Juan. ‘But I spent my first four years in Mexico helping my beloved Lupita’s family in the fields instead. Lupita’s father will only let her marry with me if I prove I can look after the family.’

Elizabeth felt momentary admiration for Juan: he must really love this girl. Hang on, wasn’t Juan on scholarship for the first three years of his degree like Elizabeth? But he didn’t work to earn it? That was akin to stealing!

‘What about your scholarship, Juan? What did you report for progress?’

Juan waved a hand dismissively.

‘I spent some time at Tajinel. I submitted a few soil tests. No-one asked of me any questions until the scholarship finished. Then, after some time, they stopped asking. I have one year left anyway, so I am sure to make it on time. There are always people who can help me. The important thing is to make as much of Juluwik as possible.’

Juan’s smugness turned Elizabeth’s stomach. Time to be direct.

‘So, what’s your big news about Luke?’

‘Oh, he should tell you this himself,’ Juan wouldn’t meet her eyes. ‘Besides, I didn’t mean he had big news, I meant I had big news.’

‘No, Juan, you said you had big news to tell me about Luke.’

‘Yes! Big news. But not Luke’s news. My news,’ Juan leant forward in his chair, blocking Elizabeth’s view of the windows. ‘Maybe our news, no?’

What nonsense was this? Time to go; Elizabeth looked meaningfully at her watch.

‘We have discovered it,’ Juan whispered.

‘It?’

‘It, Elizabeth, it. At Juluwik. The earliest writing in the Americas. Yes, it’s true. We are going to publish and we will be famous. And we want you to be part of the team.’

There was no sound in the world, then a strange ringing in her ears. Pain danced vaguely on the edge of awareness. Elizabeth realised she was gripping her cartouche so tightly it was cutting into the palm of her hand.

‘Ah, sorry, could you repeat that?’

‘I said, we have found the earliest writing in the Americas. It is going to make for all of us good careers. And we want for you to be part of it.’

That made no sense. Elizabeth hadn’t studied American archaeology or writing systems. That was Juan’s speciality. Did he have her confused with someone else?

‘Juan, for my post-grad work I specialised in Egyptology, palaeogenetics, skeletal analysis…that kind of thing. I’m not sure why you want me.’

‘Yes. This is exactly why we want you,’ Juan said, baffling her further. ‘The writing is in a cave which is also a cemetery. A royal cemetery, Elizabeth. There are skeletons, which have been brought to here. We want you to be the person to analyse them for us.’

Juan paused for a second. ‘Surely you want to do this?’ He seemed incredulous when she didn’t agree immediately.

‘It sounds…well, it sounds fantastic,’ Elizabeth said, hedging.

‘Only,’ Juan continued, ‘we cannot pay you. Once this important site is published, though, we should receive much funding.’

The tiny spark of hope in Elizabeth’s heart died. Juan knew she was excellent at skeletal analysis and wanted to use her. Time to set him straight.

‘The funding will pay for further exploring of the site,’ Juan said before she could reject his offer, ‘as well as much tourism and jobs for the local people. As we uncover more skeletons, you can be our expert. You could even end up with a team of your own.’

Perhaps this was a real opportunity, after all? Oh, wait. Mexico…tropical jungles…poor preservation. What were we actually talking about here?

‘It does sound like an amazing opportunity,’ she said as diplomatically as she could. ‘I’d like to know more.’

Juan waved his hands at her, indicating she should ask whatever she liked.

‘Well, where is the site?’

‘About 50 miles from Córdoba, in Veracruz.’

‘How many sets of remains do you have, and what state are they in?’

‘Seventeen individuals so far. The cemetery is inside the cave and protected from the weather, so they are well preserved.’

This still wasn’t making sense. There were plenty of other researchers at the university who could manage a basic analysis and description of just seventeen skeletons.

‘I sexed the skeletons myself,’ Juan continued. ‘There are three men, one woman and thirteen children. The most fascinating find was the woman with a ballplayer figurine. They are more than three thousand, two hundred years old. Elizabeth, this is it!’

‘When was the site discovered?’ Elizabeth continued her questioning, ignoring the dramatic overlay.

Juan’s nostrils flared. ‘Juluwik was discovered about one, two years ago, yes? Carl Schmidt is the site director. He was also the director of the Tajinel site. He transferred me from Tajinel to Juluwik after he discovered it.’

‘Is the cave an isolated site, or is it part of something larger?’

‘The cave is part of a large complex. We have found the foundations of many buildings and other works…large buildings, avenues and, of course, a ball court. We do not know completely how large the site is. It is very hidden, with much jungle. We are lucky that someone’s dog was lost in the cave, otherwise, it may not have been found.’

‘And you say it has the oldest writing in the Americas, and that it’s a royal cemetery. What evidence is there for that?’

‘You ask a lot of questions, Elizabeth. I thought you would be more excited than this.’

‘I am excited, Juan. But you know me…I want to under­stand what’s involved before I say yes.’

‘But you will say yes, Elizabeth. I know you will. Luke said you are miserable working here in the Library, that your only wish is to return to archaeology.’

What? Luke discussed her feelings with Juan? Elizabeth covered her confusion as best she could.

‘Yes, of course I miss archaeology. Who wouldn’t? But that doesn’t answer my questions. How do you know the cemetery is royal, and how do you know the writing is older than anything else found so far?’

‘All right, Elizabeth, all right. You are so very…hmmm, um…tenaz. How do you say this? Like a bull wanting to go through a gate? But I will satisfy you with my answers. There are two things that tell us these important facts. The first thing is the writing – I could translate some of it immediately. It has the date over three thousand, two hundred years old. And, to make it certain, Carl has radiocarbon dated ceramics from the site and they have this same age.’

‘And how do you know it’s a royal cemetery?’

‘The writing uses symbols we know mean royal, and the grave goods in the cave have markings for royal males on them.’

‘I see,’ Elizabeth said. It all sounded very promising, but… ‘Juan, there are plenty of other people who could analyse such a small number of skeletons. Why me?’

‘Because you are the best, Elizabeth, and the remains are here, in Canberra. And you wish to be published, yes? Your name would be on every publication for Juluwik.’

Could she really get back into archaeology, get published and keep working at the Library? Still, it was clear Juan was holding something back.

‘Elizabeth, meet Carl before you decide. At the lab, in two Saturdays?’ Juan pleaded. ‘He will make this site the most famous in all Mexico. I told Carl how good you are with the bones. He wants to meet with you very much.’

‘I’ll tell you what,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I have to get back to work now, but I’ll think about it over the weekend and give you a call next week?’

‘Yes, Elizabeth,’ Juan nodded. ‘I know you will say yes.’

As she returned to the Maps wing, Elizabeth’s desire to analyse the skeletons was almost palpable. Was it really possible that she could be back in archaeology in just a week’s time?