Chapter Ten

At first I thought Sir George was dead, but then I saw his chest move very slightly. Two of the servants picked him up off the ground and laid him on my bed. Although it was still dark, the campsite had suddenly come to life, people shouting at each other and running around in panic. As I held onto Bella, trying to keep her calm, Mr. Tillyard appeared at my elbow.

“What on earth’s going on?” he said. “I’d just taken over from Sir George when I heard the most dreadful noise by the tunnels. But there was nothing there.” He stopped suddenly, seeing Sir George. “What happened?”

“Sir George was stung by a scorpion. Bella and I heard the same noise as you, and we went out to look as well. When we came back, we found him here.”

“Good Lord, is he all right? He looks very pale…” He tailed off as I shook my head and glanced towards Bella.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” I said with more conviction than I actually felt. But before I could say any more, a couple of servants returned to our tent with a steaming poultice of leaves, smelling strongly of coriander, which the Egyptians believed would cure scorpion stings.

With Ruby to help us, Bella and I did our best to make her uncle as comfortable as possible and in between trying to cool his fever down to keep him safe during the two terrifying convulsions he had, the time went very quickly. At six o’clock, as the sun finally began to rise, I knew there was no more we could do for him here and his best chance of survival was to return as quickly as possible to Luxor, so leaving Ruby and Bella I went outside to speak to Mr. Tillyard. I had been so busy, I hadn’t noticed the activity outside our tent and had barely listened to Karima’s nervous chatter whenever she appeared with another poultice, but now I realised something was very wrong.

“What’s going on, Mr. Tillyard?” I asked spotting him over by the cooking tent where he seemed to be having a one-sided conversation in Pidgin English with the cook, who ignored him except to glance at him with contempt every now and again. No one was doing any cooking. They were too busy bringing the tent down.

“I don’t know, Miss Whitaker. I’ve been trying to get this chap to tell me what he’s doing, but no one’s talking to me. They just keep packing things up.”

I snapped a few questions at the cook, and although he looked a little more sheepish, he remained resolute, and my heart sank.

“They know about the Red Woman. We couldn’t have been the only ones who saw her.”

“What? Who? What are you talking about?”

“The Red Woman. Remember what I said earlier? Bella and I heard the same noise as you, and when we went to investigate we saw the Red Woman.”

“You saw a ghost?” Mr. Tillyard stared at me as though I’d gone mad.

“No, of course not,” I said. I had no intention of surrendering to foolish fancies. “We saw someone dressed up and pretending to be her. Whoever did it the first night must have been scared off by the night-patrols initially, but they’ve obviously become bolder over the last few days.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“Anyway, the servants have heard about it, and of course that’s it as far as they’re concerned. Sir George’s accident hasn’t helped any either. Apparently some of them are now convinced we’ve angered the spirits, and they’re responsible for the scorpion attack. Anyway, I’ve got to get Sir George back to Luxor. I came to ask you to remain here until I return.”

“Of course, my dear. Whatever I can do to help.”

Just then I saw Ahmed arriving. I explained everything as quickly as I could to him, and he agreed to come with me down to the river to find a boat, for which I was profoundly grateful. The Nile fishermen might not have paid any attention to a lone khawaga woman, but I knew with Ahmed next to me we would have no problem finding a felucca for hire.

“By the way,” he said as we reached the river. “The men have heard about the ghost from your servants, and some of them have refused to work here anymore. The ones who will stay want more money.”

I nodded. I didn’t care how much we had to pay the workmen now. Somehow I knew we were coming to the end of this long journey to find Khaemwaset, and I would not allow anything to set us back.

****

Bella sat shivering in the early morning light. Her face had lost its youthful, rosy plumpness, and she looked pale and drawn. Her hands kept patting fitfully at Sir George’s covers, as though by pushing the blankets up further around his face she could make him better. We sat and waited for the sun to creep higher above the horizon. Sir George looked terrible. His face seemed to have collapsed in on itself somehow, and several times I had thought he was actually dead.

Finally, the fisherman whose boat we had hired gave the signal to embark.

“Everything will be all right, Bella,” I said as cheerfully as I could as she prepared to climb onto the boat. “If the scorpion that stung Sir George had been one of the really venomous ones, he’d be dead by now.”

“Do you think so?” she asked, desperation in her voice.

“I know so. Believe me, scorpions that kill don’t let their victims linger for this long.”

I patted her hand reassuringly as she got on board and tried not to think about how old Sir George was. He just looked so ill.

“Hurry up, Ruby,” I said. She was lingering on the riverside, and I wanted Sir George and Bella away back to Luxor as quickly as possible. But Ruby just shook her head mutinously.

“I’m staying here, Miss Katie. Lady Faulkner would be horrified if I left you alone.”

“Don’t be silly, Ruby,” I said. “Miss Bella needs help with Sir George and—”

“It’s all right, Kate,” said Bella from the boat. “Ruby and I have already decided you need her more than I do. Lord knows I wouldn’t leave you if it weren’t for poor Uncle George…” She trailed off, as she looked at him again.

“Ruby,” I said sternly. “This really isn’t a good idea. You must get—”

“Miss Kate,” Ruby interrupted. “How’s it going to look, a young lady all on her own back at that there camp full of men? If you’re staying, I’m staying,” she ended firmly, a stubborn look on her face, and I knew I was beaten. To be honest, I wasn’t that sorry.

“Very well.” I nodded. Then I made sure all the other servants knew what to do with the equipment, and Ruby and I climbed back on the donkeys that had carried us down to the riverbank and returned to the Tomb of the Nobles with only one servant left to escort us. It was a silent, lonely ride back to the camp.

****

By the time we returned, it was late afternoon and we were both hungry and thirsty, as well as exhausted by the events of the previous night, so after a hasty meal scavenged from the now vastly reduced cooking area, we went to lie down in the tent Bella and I had so recently shared. Ruby was a little unsure about this at first, but I was too tired to brook much argument from her and after pointing out that, since the whole point of her being there was to protect my reputation, the best place for her to be was with me, and she soon gave in. I think, like Goldilocks, she rather wanted to try out Bella’s bed anyway. We slept solidly for the rest of the afternoon.

It was getting dark when I finally stumbled out of the tent. I could hear voices and knew that Mr. Tillyard and the workmen had finished for the day. Our little campsite was now much depleted, but it was still a lot bigger than anything Papa and I were used to. I made my way to the fire where a rough meal was being cooked.

“Miss Whitaker! What in God’s name are you doing here?”

Mr. Tillyard looked horrified to see me. His face went white, and for a moment I thought he was going to faint.

“I want some dinner,” I said briskly. “Just because we’re not going to be dining off silverware any longer doesn’t mean I’m not hungry.”

“But…but I thought you were going back with Miss Wyndham-Brown.”

“Only as far as the river. I got Ahmed to take her across.”

“But you can’t possibly stay here, my dear.”

“Why not?”

I stirred the brown sludgy stuff at the bottom of the cooking pot. Mr. Tillyard and his few remaining English employees, the artist and the secretaries, might be experts at their jobs, but they obviously knew nothing about cooking.

“Because…” He glanced across at the three young men who were watching me with interest and then pulled me to one side. “Miss Whitaker, don’t you realise you’re the only woman here now? Think of your reputation.”

I snorted. “If I ever thought of my reputation, I’d be a poor, downtrodden governess living a wretched existence in somewhere dull like…like Eastbourne.” I’d never been to Eastbourne and for all I know it might be an extremely pleasant place, but it was the only English town I could think of on the spur of the moment.

“Quite, quite,” he said distractedly. “But the point is—”

“The point is, Mr. Tillyard, I have absolutely no intention of leaving here until we have completed our task. I’ve no doubt Adam and Alice will be back tomorrow anyway. Luxor is a small town as far as the English are concerned, and I’m sure they will have heard about poor Sir George already.”

“But my dear—”

“Besides, I’m not the only woman here. Ruby came back with me,” I pointed out as she came across and stood next to me, the stubborn expression back on her face. Not for the first time, I was glad of her presence.

Mr. Tillyard studied Ruby briefly, before turning back to me. “Miss Whitaker, I hardly think a child—”

I could see Ruby’s expression turning into a scowl, and I struggled to keep a straight face.

“Ruby is seventeen, Mr. Tillyard. Besides, there’s nothing to be done tonight. It’s too late to go back now.”

“I’m most disturbed by this, Miss Whitaker,” he said, frowning. “But as you say there’s nothing to be done tonight. But I really must insist that unless Lady Faulkner and Dr. Ellis arrive tomorrow, you return to Luxor. I cannot allow you to remain here otherwise. Don’t you realise how dangerous it’s become here? Apart from any other considerations, I don’t feel I can protect you.”

“I’ll be fine, Mr. Tillyard. And as for tomorrow—” I stopped. Suddenly there was a sound of thundering hooves coming from the direction of the Nile, and we all turned and looked.

A group of horses was thundering up the primitive track, dust swirling around them, their long white robes flying out behind them like huge wings. Finally, they reached us, and the leader of the group pulled back the cloth protecting his face from the desert dust.

“’Ammi,” I said, bowing respectfully. Ahmed jumped down from his horse, and the others followed, one of them taking his reins.

“Miss Katie. The old man is still alive, or at least he was when I left him at the port. I’ve brought my sons back with me—” He gestured at the crowd behind him, and there was a wave of bowing from six equally tall men. “—and two of my sisters.”

Behind the men were two women wearing niqabs, the full length robe that covered the entire head and left only a slit for the eyes to see through.

“Thank you, ’ammi,” I said.

Mr. Tillyard, meanwhile, was looking at the group in amazement. “What’s he doing here?” he asked, staring at the crowd of white-robed figures. “And who are all these people?”

“These are Ahmed’s sons. I asked him to come back,” I replied, unable to stifle a smile at the baffled look on his face. “I’m not completely stupid or blind to my position, Mr. Tillyard, despite what people might think. I’m aware that the situation has changed considerably in the last few hours, and I certainly don’t intend to stay here without protection.”

“Quite.” Mr. Tillyard had taken his spectacles off by now and was polishing them in great agitation. “Of course. Well done. But aren’t they frightened of the ghost?”

I smiled. Nothing on God’s earth frightened Ahmed or his sons, but before I could say anything, Ahmed roared with laughter. He spoke English perfectly well, being a refined and educated man. But, like Papa, he was contemptuous of foreigners who were so ill-mannered that they did not bother to learn the language of their hosts. Unless business was involved, he rarely engaged in conversation with them.

“Hah!” he snorted, walking back to the horses and helping his two sisters down. “Tell this unbeliever we’re not children! There are no ghosts here. There are only men who lust after riches. I’ll give you two nights. If your menfolk have not returned by then, I’ll take you back to Luxor myself.”

“Thank you, ’ammi,” I said. “And thank you for bringing your sisters. I hope we’re not inconveniencing you too much.”

He grunted at this, as he began to unsaddle his horse. “Two nights I can spare. And my sisters are both widowed, and their children full-grown. They agreed even an infidel woman should not be shamed by being left alone in the desert with no one to protect her reputation except a servant.” He walked off to settle the horse, and I pulled my shawl about my shoulders, feeling a lot less nervous now that he and his sons were with us.

****

Later, after we had eaten, I sat with Mr. Tillyard for a while. “How did the work go today?”

“Not so good.” He took his glasses off and began polishing them. His face looked tired. “We only had about half the number of workmen we usually have. I think they must have heard about the ghost.”

“That’s right.” I told him what Ahmed had said earlier in this morning. He tutted several times and said “Oh dear” twice. Finally he leaned over and took my hand.

“Miss Whitaker, may I just say how much I admire you?”

I smiled faintly. “You may certainly say it, Mr. Tillyard. One can never have too many compliments. But I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it.”

“Really? My dear girl, one so young as you and yet even in the midst of such chaos, you’ve organised the situation so deftly. I don’t think I know half a dozen men who would have been so level-headed as you in this crisis.”

I flinched at the word “crisis.” Certainly everything seemed to be going wrong. Papa’s illness, that wretched ghost story, poor Sir George—but even so, even amidst all this gloom and misfortune, I couldn’t help feeling that some good was going to come of it in the end. I remembered Papa’s words on the day we’d heard the museum was sending Adam out here. He had refused to give in to depression. “I know the tomb is there, Kate. I know it!” And despite all our present woes, I understood at last why he felt like that. Because I felt like that too. I stood up.

“You’re very kind to say so, Mr. Tillyard, but I’m simply doing what Papa would have done under the same circumstances. He trained me very well, you see. And now you’ll have to excuse me. I’m exhausted. Good night, Mr. Tillyard.”

“Of course. Good night, my dear.”

He stood up too, and as I left, he took my hand and kissed it gently, reminiscent of that first day we met. I gave him one last smile and walked over to my tent. Then I saw Ahmed and his sons sitting by their own fire, a sheesha passing between them. I walked across to them, and bowed to Ahmed, enjoying the familiar, distinctive smell of the tobacco mixed with molasses.

“Assalaamu aleikum, ’ammi.”

“Miss Katie.” He wasn’t looking directly at me, but over to where Mr. Tillyard and I had been sitting. I got the impression he had seen Mr. Tillyard’s rather quaint gesture and hadn’t approved of it.

“I really am grateful for you being here, ’ammi. Thank you again.”

He grunted. “I’ve sent my sisters to sleep in your tent. You should go too, Miss Katie. Your servant is annoying them.”

I grinned. I could just imagine how Ruby was taking to the idea of sharing a tent with a couple of exotic Egyptian women. “Of course. Good night.”

When I got to the tent, Ahmed’s two sisters had rolled their sleeping mats on the floor and were chattering away in Arabic, teasing poor Ruby who, of course, couldn’t understand a word they were saying. They had also lighted an incense stick, and the heavy, sweet, pungent resin hung in the air.

“Miss Kate,” she gasped in relief as I slipped through the canvas and laced up the flaps. “These two…creatures came in before I could stop them, and they won’t leave. And the smell! And they’ve taken their robe-things off too. Look at them!”

I suppressed a smile. Like all strict Muslim women, Nawal and Huda wore the niqabs in public, but they had both married into wealthy families, and in private they indulged their taste for expensive clothes. It didn’t surprise me that Ruby was scandalised by their attire. Although they were respectably, and even modestly dressed, Egyptian fashions for women were definitely more than exotic the average lady’s maid would be used to and I could see Ruby was mesmerised by the lavishly beaded blouses and sequinned skirts in the sheerest silks. The gorgeous colours were breathtaking too, purple and aquamarine and turquoise; and since jewellery was a sign of wealth, Nawal and Huda were positively weighed down with heavy gold necklaces, rings, and charms, their arms and wrists jingling with silver bracelets inlaid with dark green emeralds and delicate pearls.

“It’s all right, Ruby,” I said soothingly. “Es-sitt Nawal and her sister Huda are staying with us tonight. It’s an Egyptian custom,” I added. “You didn’t like the idea of me being alone here and neither do they. Now do get into bed, there’s a good girl.”

Ruby muttered and grumbled under her breath, but I don’t think she was really sorry to see the two older women with us. She climbed slowly into Bella’s bed.

“Why is this rude girl waving her hands at us so contemptuously, my heart?” asked Nawal. “She is your servant, is she not? Does she have no manners?”

“Um, Ruby was just a bit confused,” I lied. “She thought you should be sleeping in the beds, as you are our elders.”

“Ah!” Both women nodded their heads, accepting the explanation instantly. I knew neither of them would have wanted to take the camp beds, seeing them as hopelessly uncomfortable European contraptions; but the protocol would have been easily understood.

I undressed quickly and got into my bed, grateful for all these distractions. But as I drifted off, I had that same feeling that I’d had the night before, as though there was something I should have done but hadn’t. I still couldn’t shake it off or remember what it was. Finally sleep overtook me.

****

The next morning we started work early. I was determined not to let all the setbacks of the last few days delay us any longer. Mr. Tillyard was right; there were only about half the number of workmen we usually had who came to work that day, but we made the best of it and by lunchtime, we found a section of wall which had more wonderful pictures of the funeral procession. This time they didn’t crumble into dust at the slightest touch, and once again I began to hope that our burial chamber might be the tomb of a king, after all. After a hasty and rather meagre lunch which consisted mainly of figs and tinned corned beef, Mr. Tillyard went back to work, but I had decided to write up a report for Papa while the details were still fresh in my head. I had just finished and was about to go back to the tunnel when I saw another dust storm of horses on the horizon. This time there was no mistaking who it was. Even from a distance I could see Adam in his white clothes. I looked for Alice, but she didn’t appear to be with him.

As the group approached it was clear Adam had brought reinforcements with him. I wondered where he had managed to get so many servants at such short notice and how he had avoided having them hear the lurid tales of ghosts and malicious scorpion spirits. But as they got nearer I realised these were not servants, at least not the domestic kind. Adam had hired bodyguards, strong, tough mercenaries, not all of them Egyptian. As he reached the camp-site, he jumped off his horse and raced up to me.

“Are you all right?” he said, taking me in his arms and pulling me up close.

“Yes, of course I am,” I said. “Sir George was the one who was stung, not me. How is he?”

“He’s fine.” Adam still had a tight hold on me, and he seemed to be examining me, checking me over as though I were some kind of valuable horse which might be injured. “At least he was when I left this morning. The doctor seemed to think the sting was from a fairly harmless type of scorpion, and he was mainly suffering from side effects. What happened here?”

“Nothing. Sir George just stepped on it by accident, that’s all. What side effects?”

Finally Adam let me go. We were near the kitchen tent, and he picked up a bottle of water and poured some into a glass, swallowing it down in huge gulps. His face was smudged with the dust from the desert ride.

“He’s an old man,” he said irritably, as though this were somehow my fault. “The doctor said he was also suffering from mild heatstroke and exhaustion which didn’t help. And don’t tell me nothing happened out here, Kate. All the servants have gone and none of them will return no matter how much money I offer them.”

“Adam, I have no intention of pretending nothing happened out here. Bella and I heard a noise and went out to investigate and—”

“Yes, so I hear. Didn’t it occur to you how dangerous it was going out on your own in the dark?”

“What did you expect me to do? Lie shivering in my bed like a child frightened by tales of ghosts?”

“I expected you to behave sensibly and go and get help. And as for that rubbish about ghosts, you knew perfectly well there was a good chance tomb robbers had heard about the burial chamber. For God’s sake, Kate, you were the one who said there should be a guard posted every night. Which reminds me, how the devil did this wretched ghost manage to get away without being captured?”

“How on earth should I know, Adam?” I asked irritably. “Mr. Tillyard went to look, but then he heard Sir George—”

“Yes, where is Mr. Tillyard?” Adam interrupted.

“He’s in the tunnels,” I said. “We’ve made some really wonderful progress since you left. The walls on the south side—”

“Stay here. I haven’t finished talking to you yet.” He began to walk towards the tomb. Not liking the look on his face and knowing how intimidating he could be when he was angry, I followed him.

“Adam, I don’t know what you think happened here,” I said. “But if you think blaming Mr. Tillyard for Sir George’s accident is—”

Adam turned back round. His face was like thunder. “Kate, if you really like Tillyard, stay out here. I can guarantee you he won’t want an audience for this.”

“Adam, will you just stop and listen to me—” But he ignored me and disappeared into the tomb.

I gave up and went back to my tent where my notes lay in a pile on my desk. Adam was right; poor Mr. Tillyard wasn’t going to want an audience for the scene that was about to take place, and although I felt sorry for him, if I was going to be honest, there was a part of me that felt he was at least slightly to blame for this mess. He had been against the guard watches from the start, clearly feeling that we were being overly sensitive about the possibility of tomb robbers. I didn’t blame him for that; after all, if you’ve spent most of your working life in a nice, safe museum in London, you aren’t going to be particularly alive to the very real dangers that can occur in the field. But he had obviously let Adam take the lion’s share of that duty, which I did feel was a little bit remiss of him, and when Adam had left, I don’t think either he or Sir George had given the watches the same priority Adam had. It had occurred to me to wonder why the ghost had managed to appear and disappear so easily. But then I wasn’t exactly blameless either. I suppose, in the end, I’d thought we’d been worrying needlessly too. Adam’s attention to detail had kept us safe and when he’d left, we’d thoughtlessly put ourselves in danger because we hadn’t bothered to take the same precautions as he had.

I ignored the sound of the workmen coming out of the tunnels. They were very happy to be given an extra break and the eccentric behaviour of the khawagas was always good for entertainment. I put on my spectacles and tried to work for a bit on my report to Papa, but in the end I gave up and went outside for some fresh air.

It was eerily quiet around the campsite and the reason why wasn’t hard to understand. The tunnel went down a long way underground now, but it was still possible to hear muffled shouts coming from inside. Adam obviously had a lot to say, and although English people might have felt it good manners to try and ignore the storm that taking place inside the passageway, the Egyptians suffered no such inhibitions. They were all sitting near to the entrance, tiny cups of coffee in their hands, their faces aglow with interest as they listened to the shouts from within. The fact that they couldn’t understand any English wasn’t detracting from their enjoyment of the argument in the least. Ruby was outside Alice’s tent, folding some sheets, and as I went over to her, she looked at me nervously.

“What’s the matter with Mr. Adam, miss?” she asked. “He looked really angry.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ruby,” I soothed. “I think he’s just worried because the workmen won’t come here anymore. You finish your work here.”

I patted her hand and then walked back over to the tunnel entrance. Just as I was wondering whether I should go in and try to pour oil on the waters, Adam finally came out, looking slightly less angry now. He ignored me and walked over to where Ahmed was sitting. They talked for a while and then Ahmed shouted for the men to go back into the tomb and continue working. As they slowly got up and began filing back in, I thought about going over to see Adam and Ahmed, but they were still deep in conversation, so I decided to leave them to it and go back to my notes. I thought it prudent to leave Mr. Tillyard alone for a while. Arguing with Adam has a tendency to take quite a lot out of one, as I knew from personal experience.

I had been working for some time when the flap of my tent opened, and Adam came in. “I’ve spoken with Ahmed, and he’s agreed to spend another two nights here,” he said.

“Oh good. Will Alice be coming back tomorrow? Because if not I must ask Huda and Nawal to stay until she does return.”

Adam scowled. “That won’t be necessary,” he snapped.

I stared at him. “Oh really? Why not?”

“Because you’re going back to Luxor with them tomorrow.”

We glared at each other.

“Don’t think you can come in here and bully me, Adam Ellis,” I said icily. “Save that for museum employees who don’t have any choice but to bow their heads to you. I am not leaving here, and nothing you say is going to make me.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Kate,” he said ominously calm. “If I have to truss you up like a Christmas turkey and throw you bodily onto the ferry, then that’s what I’ll do. I can’t believe you were so reckless as to come back yesterday after Bella and the servants left. And let Ruby stay too. That was about the only thing Tillyard and I agreed on just now—”

“Well, I’m so glad you found something in common at least. But I am not leaving this place until Papa’s theories have—”

“Your father is beside himself with worry. Do you know how quickly the news of Sir George’s accident spread? Everyone back in Luxor is talking about it. It was as much as Alice and I could do to stop him from coming out here today. She’s stayed behind to reassure him, and I promised you would be back tomorrow as well.”

“Well, then you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep. I’ll write Papa a note explaining why I can’t leave just now and he’ll understand—”

“Pack your bags tonight, Kate, if you don’t want someone else doing it for you. Because I promise you, you’re leaving tomorrow whether you like it or not.”

“Adam—”

“You’re not staying and that’s final. This is not your private little playground. The concession was granted to your father on behalf of the museum, and both your father and I say you’re going! Now, you can either accept that with a little grace and acknowledge that we’re actually doing this for your benefit, or you can sulk like a child. It’s up to you, but tomorrow morning you’re going back to Luxor.”

I glared at him, my mind whirling with the few options left available to me. Unfortunately, he was right. The concession to dig here was granted to Papa, not me, and in fact the entire expedition was at the moment under the authority of the Cavendish Museum, which meant in effect Adam. My hands were tied.

“Very well!” I spat eventually. “I can see I’ve got no choice. But believe me, I’ll make sure every archaeologist this side of the hemisphere knows that you deliberately forced me out and made sure neither I nor Papa was present when Khaemwaset’s treasure is discovered.”

I stormed back to my tent, so angry I could hardly contain myself. I looked at the notes on my desk and then suddenly, without even realising what I was doing, I swept my arm across and all my papers and inkpots and pens fell to the ground with a resounding, utterly satisfying crash. It was so satisfying, in fact, that I picked up the washing jug and bowl and threw them towards the tent pole where they smashed and slivers of pottery arced in all directions. Some of the pieces came perilously close to me, and my brief, destructive urge gave out as quickly as it began. I might be hot-tempered, but I’m not stupid. I sat down on my bed, arms folded angrily, looking at the ink from the pot seeping into the groundsheet, turning the khaki colour a dull black. After what seemed like hours, I heard a timid knock on the tent pole.

“If that’s you, Adam Ellis, you can just go away. I’ve said everything I ever want to say to you.”

“No, my dear, it’s me.”

“Mr. Tillyard!”

I jumped up and pulled the canvas flaps open. Truth to tell I needed a bit of company now. I really wanted to tell someone how much I hated Adam and who better to understand that than Mr. Tillyard?

He came in, stepping carefully over the shards of ceramic and ink-soaked papers, tactfully saying nothing about them. He was still wearing his white, dirt-stained coat and his hair had spots of powder where he been cleaning the pictures on the wall. In his hands he held a cup of Darjeeling tea. It was expensive out here and we only treated ourselves to it occasionally. I could smell the delicate fragrance as the steam wafted gently from the cup.

“I thought you might like some tea,” said Mr. Tillyard, offering it to me warily, as though he expected it to be thrown back in his face. I could see him surveying the broken bowl and jug on the floor.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the cup from him. “How are things going in the tunnel?”

“Very well actually.” He watched me nervously for a few minutes, then must have decided I was no longer dangerous. “That’s what I’ve come to tell you, my dear. We’ve reached some very interesting pictograms which seem to suggest a doorway, and I wondered if you’d like to come and see them.”

“Is he there?”

Mr. Tillyard cleared his throat and pushed hair away from his glasses. “Um…well Dr. Ellis was the first to—”

I leaned against the tent pole and took a sip from the cup. “Then I’d rather cut my throat than be in the same room as him,” I said pleasantly.

“Ah.” He perched on the edge of Bella’s bed, then realised he’d sat in an ink splodge and got up very quickly. “You know, my dear, much as I hate to see you this angry, I’d feel a terrible hypocrite if I didn’t tell you I am as concerned about your safety as Dr. Ellis. I don’t think—”

“Dr. Ellis isn’t concerned about my safety. He’s just a thug and a bully who enjoys making other people dance to his tune.”

I pulled aside the tent flaps as I spoke and shouted the words “thug” and “bully” as loudly as I could, which was quite pointless really because Adam wasn’t going to hear me inside the tomb. But the mercenaries he’d brought with him were all lounging around under the shade of a makeshift shelter, talking and drinking, so I repeated my words, shouting them in Arabic this time as I shook my fist towards the entrance, which made them all sit up and laugh. With any luck they’d tell Adam what I’d said at the first opportunity.

“Really, Miss Whitaker, whatever you feel about this situation, I’m sure Dr. Ellis only has your best interests at heart—”

“Really, Mr. Tillyard,” I interrupted rudely. “How can you stand up for that odious man after the way he treated you this afternoon? The whole campsite heard him, you know. He comes thundering in here, blaming everyone but himself for the problems we’ve had. I still don’t know what was so important he had to leave when he did.”

I might have said more, but at that moment Nawal and Huda glided silently into the tent, only their eyes visible through the slits in their niqabs. Mr. Tillyard looked at them nervously. Like most Englishmen, he was a little bit disconcerted by women who looked like walking tents and never made eye contact with him.

“Yes well, just as you say, Miss Whitaker. Are you sure you won’t come with me? You know,” he added gently, “Dr. Ellis did specifically ask me to tell you about the text.”

I gave Mr. Tillyard a filthy look, not at all won over by this tender message. “Tell Dr. Ellis that I would rather drown—”

“Fair enough, my dear,” he said hurriedly and began to move towards the entrance, then looked back. “Oh, by the way, would you think me terribly tactless if I asked you to take some accounts back to Lady Faulkner to sign and return to London when you go back to Luxor tomorrow? I forgot to ask her before she left, and it should be done before the end of the month. I believe the books are still in her tent.”

I sighed. Even Mr. Tillyard had taken it for granted that I would be leaving tomorrow just as Adam decreed. “All right, Mr. Tillyard. I might as well be useful to someone.”

He gave me one last sympathetic smile, then went back outside.

“You should be careful of that one, Miss Katie,” Nawal said as she and her sister removed their niqabs. I snorted.

“The only one I have to be careful of is that…that snake in the grass out there!” I said, with as much venom as possible.

“Do you mean the one who arrived just now? The tall one with the hair the colour of honey?”

Nawal and Huda began a lazy conversation about what they would like to do with Adam if he ever converted, which shocked me a lot less than it probably should have done. I had spent a lot of my formative years in the haramliks and women-only hammans and, amongst themselves, Muslim women are very uninhibited. However, I wasn’t interested in hearing about Adam’s charms just then, and I was about to make an excuse and leave when Huda suddenly clicked her fingers.

“Ah! He’s one who’s a thug and a bully, isn’t he?” she said brightly.

“Yes. Did the men by the shelter hear that?” I asked. Both Nawal and Huda laughed.

“Everyone in the entire camp heard it, precious one. You can be sure the infidel knows about it too, now.”

“Good,” I said, then realised they were looking at the mess I’d made when I’d thrown my inkpots and water bowl around in my childish temper tantrum.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, stooping to help them pick up the smashed pottery. Nawal patted my cheek as she knelt on the floor, the many thin silver bracelets she wore on her wrists clinking against my fob watch.

“That’s all right, my heart. Men can drive the most patient of woman to distraction.”

I pointed out to them that I was hardly the most patient of women, but Huda and Nawal weren’t impressed by my honesty.

“It never hurts to let them know one can be pushed beyond endurance. Even the infidel looked a little worried when he heard the sound of your anger,” said Huda, stroking my hair companionably.

“Did he?” I felt better almost immediately.

“Yes, and don’t worry, sweetheart,” Nawal soothed. “All men are fools.”

“And all women are goddesses for putting up with them,” Huda added, then she and Nawal suddenly dissolved into laughter and began telling jokes, all of which had men as the butt.

All in all I was in a much better temper by the time Ruby appeared with some food and told me what she could about the new discovery in the tunnel. Adam and Mr. Tillyard were apparently very excited about the hieroglyphs and practically had to be dragged away as the light faded and the workers wanted to go home.

It sounded as though they had completely forgotten their quarrel, and I couldn’t help feeling aggrieved once more. This was the great discovery that Papa and I should be making. It really wasn’t fair. We had worked so hard and gone without so much to arrive at this moment, and now neither of us would be present when the burial chamber of Khaemwaset was finally uncovered. Once more I found myself becoming angry at the cavalier way we had been treated by the museum. I resolved to make sure that every eminent archaeologist in London and Egypt knew about it.

Sleep was hard to come by that night, and I did nothing but doze fitfully until the sun slowly crept over the horizon and the heat of the day began to bake the camp. Finally I gave up. Getting dressed quietly so as not to waken Ruby, Nawal and Huda, I walked out to see if I could find some breakfast.

There wasn’t much in the way of food. Since none of the servants had come back with Adam, it was clear the men who remained here were going to be eating out of tins for the next few weeks, which I had time to feel glad about. I hoped they would be thoroughly miserable with their lot, although I doubted it. Adam never really cared about food or the trappings of luxury.

I found a few hard crackers and some slightly dry figs and I ate them, intending to go over to the tunnel and see the hieroglyphs for myself before I was bundled off home like a parcel. But then I noticed Alice’s tent, still with the flaps tied over. Obviously no-one had dismantled it because they expected her to return. She was Lady Faulkner after all, I remembered bitterly, widow of the chairman of the board and herself temporary chair and major stockholder. No one was going to tell her she had to leave the campsite if she didn’t want to. She knew next to nothing about archaeology or Egyptology, she much preferred to be dressed in pretty clothes and spending her afternoons and evenings socialising, and yet she got to come back here whenever she wanted. I sighed and swallowed the last of my figs.

Just as I about to go up to the tomb, I remembered my promise to Mr. Tillyard to take the accounts books back. I decided I might as well get them first so I walked across to her tent and unlaced the knots.

Alice’s tent was slightly smaller than the one Bella and I had shared but not too much smaller, and she was alone in here. Her tent was much simpler than I expected it to be, with her bed in one corner and the large luggage chest serving as a table to one side. There was a pile of books on it and I went over to find the accounts. But as I searched through the pile, I noticed one of her reading books was opened to a page in the middle and marked with her distinctive mauve ink. I put my spectacles on and glanced through it. It was a book on poisons.

I had been expecting genteel books on etiquette or flower-arranging or perhaps some educational tomes or travel guides. Books describing the use and dosage on arsenic and cyanide, with graphic descriptions of symptoms and side effects were absolutely not what I had in mind. But as I leafed through the pages worse was to come. There were two chapters that had evidently interested Alice a great deal because she had marked them by folding the corners and then underlined several passages. One was a passage on arsenic which described how small enough doses could often be misdiagnosed as an attack of malaria if the patient suffered from it. The other discussed the signs of chloroform overdose and how it could kill a patient by stopping the heart.

I let the book slip from my fingers, not believing what I was seeing and what my brain was telling me. Alice had a book on poisons. She had brought with her to Egypt a book on poisons and had underlined certain passages that were of significant interest to her. Sir Henry had died of a heart attack. And Papa had suffered another attack of malaria despite recovering well from the first one.

I was just about to leave the tent when Ruby appeared.

“Oh, here you are, Miss Katie. I wondered where you’d got to. Mr. Adam told me to come in here and pack up as much of her ladyship’s stuff as I could before we leave—” Suddenly she paused. “Here, are you all right, miss?”

“I’m fine,” I said faintly.

“You don’t look fine, miss, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so. You look like you’ve seen a ghost, which I suppose I shouldn’t really say, what with all the malarkey we’ve had going on here…”

She chattered on, but I barely heard her, I was so busy trying to get my mind clear so I could think about what I had read. Then she stooped down and picked up the book I had dropped.

“I’ll put this in with her things,” she said, looking at the title briefly. “Blimey, her ladyship don’t ’alf like reading some queer books, miss.”

“How true,” I said.

“Mind you, it’s no surprise really,” she went on chattily, picking up a few stray clothes. “Not when you consider all them medicines she carries around with her.”

“What!” I snapped. Ruby looked up at me in surprise, and I forced myself to remain calm. “I mean, what medicines?”

“Well, you know, miss, all them ones,” Ruby said, pointing to a large brown sturdy box next to the bed.

I went over and pulled at the catch, but it was firmly locked.

“What sort of things does she keep with her, Ruby?” I asked as guilelessly as I could.

“Oh well, miss, you know, sedatives and things. Stuff that Sir Henry had to take and what not. Her ladyship was always giving him medicines, but in the end nothing seemed to work. Cook used to say—”

“Yes, I see,” I said, picking up the book again. “Ruby, I’m just going to go for a little stroll before we leave. Could you pack up my clothes?”

“Of course, miss.”

“Thank you.” I pulled the flaps of the tent aside. “Oh and if Dr. Ellis asks where I am, say I’ve just gone into the tunnels one last time.”

“Yes, Miss Katie.”

I left the tent and walked as casually as I could over to the corral where the horses were kept. Then I saddled a mare and led her quietly away from the campsite before jumping up and urging her away onto the plains.

I wanted time to think about this new revelation.