Night Train to Memphis - Elizabeth Peters [132]
‘He’s got something in mind, but don’t ask me what. He told me where to go and what to say, but he did not condescend to explain further.’ Feisal stretched out with a long, heartfelt sigh. ‘At least we can be sure no one has followed us. Only an idiot would attempt this route. Don’t worry, love, we’ll bribe or bully someone into helping us.’
‘We haven’t any money.’
Feisal’s long fuzzy lashes were drooping. He opened his eyes a little wider and grinned at me. ‘We’ll sell something. You, perhaps. A woman who can work that hard should fetch a good price.’
I let him sleep. I tried to, but I couldn’t, so I lay still counting John’s breaths and watching the sky darken and the stars brighten against the night.
Finally Feisal stirred. ‘Did we finish the water?’
‘There’s some fizzy lemonade. I’ve been hoarding it.’
‘Well done. All right, let’s do it. Johnny?’
‘I told you not to call me that,’ said a grumpy voice from the darkness.
‘I assumed you’d prefer it to “blue eyes.” Someday perhaps one of you will explain those esoteric comments to me.’
‘A cold day in hell, perhaps,’ John said.
When we emerged from the widening mouth of the wadi the moon was shining down on the plain of Amarna. Lights twinkled among the dark bank of trees along the river.
Nobody felt like cheering. Not yet.
‘Head north,’ John said. ‘I suggest you follow the cliffs as long as possible. Less chance of our being observed.’
‘If people don’t know we’re here, they’re deaf,’ I remarked.
‘Back to your old form, I see,’ John said. ‘Perhaps you’d prefer to walk. It’s only six or seven miles.’
I said no more.
Feisal proceeded at a slower speed, and if I hadn’t had other things on my mind I might have enjoyed the scenery. The cliffs enclosing the plain were icy-pale in that eerie light, checkered with shadow where crevices and canyons broke their ramparts. One deeper, darker opening might have been the entrance to the royal wadi which we had visited earlier. After we crossed the road that led from the landing to the tombs, Feisal stopped and shut off the ignition.
‘That’s the village, over there.’ He indicated a few lights along the river.
John didn’t move. ‘We’ll wait here.’
‘What are you up to now?’ Feisal asked.
‘Taking reasonable precautions, that’s all. Three people are more conspicuous than one, especially when two of them are obviously foreigners. Someone must have heard us. You can have a look around and withdraw if there’s trouble. The house you want is on the northeast corner of the village. There’s a brickyard on one side and – ’
‘I know, you told me.’ Feisal hoisted himself out of the car and stretched. ‘I’ll signal if it’s safe to proceed and wait for you on the edge of the cultivation. Six flashes and then two at ten-minute intervals.’
He started off. John watched him for a few minutes and then climbed over the side of the jeep. ‘Get out.’
‘What for?’
‘I would love to live long enough to see you respond to a sensible suggestion without asking why. A little exercise will be good for you.’
I got up, stretching. ‘Oh, God. If this is what it feels like to be eighty, I’m not sure I want to live that long.’
‘I’m sure.’ John steadied me as I climbed arthritically over the side of the jeep.
We settled down next to a rock outcropping a few hundred yards away. ‘This isn’t very comfortable,’ I grumbled, squirming around in the hope of finding some surface that wasn’t littered with sharp pebbles.
‘It’s flat and it’s in shadow. Oh, for Christ’s sake. Here.’ He took off Feisal’s jacket and spread it on the ground.
‘Aren’t you cold?’
‘No.’
‘Have you got a temperature?’
He moved away from my outstretched hand and sat down a few feet away, his back against a rock. ‘It will certainly begin to rise if you don’t stop asking meaningless questions.’
‘How about a few meaningful questions?’ I handed him one of the cans of soda.
‘Such as?’
‘Were you really planning to rob the Cairo Museum?’
‘Good God, no. I’ve already robbed the damned place twice, why should I do it again? A man’s reach should exceed his grasp, don’t you think?