The Hippopotamus Pool - Elizabeth Peters [147]
I waited there for Emerson. Darkness had fallen and it seemed to me that I had been at the window, watching, for hours before he came.
‘So you missed me, did you?’ he inquired, sometime later.
‘I believe you have had sufficient evidence of that.’
‘Not sufficient, no. But it will have to do for the time being. Is dinner ready? I am famished.’
‘Oh, dear,’ I said, somewhat self-consciously. ‘I am afraid it is on the table and getting cold, Emerson. I told Mahmud to serve when you returned.’
‘You ought to have known better, Peabody.’
‘You are right, I ought. Hurry and dress, my dear.’
As it turned out, Evelyn had sent the food back to be warmed, so that was all right. I waited until after Emerson had satisfied the first pangs of hunger before giving him the telegram from M. Maspero.
‘On his way, is he?’ was Emerson’s response. ‘Curse it!’
‘He is very polite,’ said Walter, who had retrieved the telegram from the floor where Emerson had thrown it. ‘Felicitations, homages, chers colleagues, and all the rest!’
‘Anything else in the post?’ Emerson asked, dismissing M. Maspero and his courtesies.
‘Evelyn’s daily report from Mrs Watson,’ I replied. ‘All well and happy, she says. Nothing else of interest.’
I did not really expect anything from Kevin until later that night at the earliest. He had gone chortling off with a book full of notes and I assumed he would be busy writing up his dispatch. I only hoped he would remember to check round the hotels as I had asked him to do; when journalism took possession of him he was inclined to forget all else.
We took all our meals on the deck now, since Emerson had commandeered the saloon for a workroom and storage chamber. The sweet breeze and rising moon did not tempt him to linger; draining his cup of coffee he said, ‘Nefret, I have several more pages of notes that need to be copied.’
‘I will transcribe your notes, Emerson,’ Evelyn said. ‘Let the child go to bed, she is worn out.’
She must have been practising, for she got the name out without a hitch. Walter gave her a startled look. Emerson said, ‘Oh? Oh, well, er . . . Yes, quite. Off to bed with you, Nefret, my dear, you worked very diligently today. You too, Ramses.’
Ramses had been feeding scraps to the cat Bastet. I expected him to protest. Instead he rose obediently. ‘Yes, Father. Good night, all. Come, David. Come, the cat Bastet.’
They left in dignified procession, the cat bringing up the rear. ‘He really should not speak to David as he does to the cat,’ Evelyn said.
‘It is the other way round, I fancy,’ I said. ‘He should not speak to the cat as he does to a human being. Where has Anubis got to? I haven’t seen him this evening.’
‘I told him to stay with the men,’ Emerson said. He chuckled. ‘Or rather, I requested that he do so. He is as effective a guard as you and your parasol, Peabody. The locals are terrified of him.’
‘So is Abdullah. I am surprised he didn’t object.’
‘Abdullah has had a change of heart.’ Emerson got out his pipe. ‘He still believes Anubis is an afreet in feline form, but he has very sensibly concluded that it is better to have a demon as a friend than an enemy. Nefret, my dear, why are you still here? Did you want to ask me something?’
‘No, sir, only I am not at all tired and I don’t want to go to bed.’
A statement like that would have won Ramses a firm rebuke, but Emerson only smiled fondly. There is no question but that a pretty face and golden curls lend a person an unfair advantage.
‘It will be another difficult day tomorrow, child. Give me a kiss and run along.’
Pouting, but to no avail, Nefret bestowed kisses all round and went with dragging feet towards the stairs.
I don’t know what impulse made me go after her. When I caught her up at the door of her room, her surprised look made me feel a little foolish. ‘I thought perhaps you had left your nightgown in my room this morning,’ was the only excuse I could think of