Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sadie
N othing can prepare you.
There I am, gazing out the window of our little bus, when out from behind a cluster of buildings pop the Pyramids of Giza.
And I can’t help it. I cry. Not an all-out wail, obviously. But a tear. Maybe two.
The Pyramids disappear again behind the next building, and my eyes are drawn to Ethan. He’s watching me. Our gazes lock, and I feel it all the way to my toes. I can see he knows exactly how I’m feeling. I can tell he felt it too, the first time he saw those incredible structures. I’m trying so hard to keep it professional with him. But being here has scraped a layer of protection off, and I feel emotional and exposed. Seeing this country affect Ethan the same way makes it all the harder.
We arrive at the site, and despite the early hour, the carpark is bursting. The security checks seem to take forever, but eventually we’re fighting our way through the crowds to find a quiet spot. We’re right up close to a towering structure that’s stood for over four thousand years.
Magical doesn’t even begin to describe it.
“Can you feel that?” I ask as we all stand gazing up the slope of the ancient stones.
“Feel what? The wind?” Riley says, swatting at the hair I warned her to tie up that’s now sticking to her lip gloss.
“The centuries. The millennia. The thousands of years. Of souls. Of rituals. Of reverence. Of life,” I whisper, not wanting to disturb the sensation filling my lungs and lifting the hair on the back of my neck.
Ethan gives me a look that almost melts my bones. A look that says I’m not alone in this feeling. He feels it too. Of course he does. Because as much as I’m trying to deny it, as much as I don’t want it to be so, the visceral way Ethan and I respond to Egypt connects us on a level I’ve never experienced before.
I could spend all day—multiple days—roaming the enormous plateau of Giza, walking up the causeway, wandering through what remains of the funerary temples, standing toe to toe with the Sphinx.
As the sun starts to get low in the sky, Ethan leads us on a walk further up the plateau, which is narrated by Riley.
“This soft sand is so hard to walk on,” she whines.
“You’re Australian. Aren’t you used to sand?” Jeremy asks.
“I don’t go to the beach. It’s much more relaxing to spend the summer on Dad’s boat.”
Bart snorts and Simon rolls his eyes.
“And it’s so hot. Ethan, will it be this hot in Amarna?” She scampers a little to catch up with Ethan’s long strides.
“Hotter,” he responds without even glancing at her. “You’d best get used to it now, Riley.” How she can’t hear the irritated edge in his tone is beyond me.
“But it will be cooler on the boat. And we can swim in the pool.”
Jeremy, Bart and Simon roar laughing.
“Pool?” Ethan shakes his head with a frown.
“Hate to break it to you, Riles, but there’s no pool. You can have a dip in the river if you get too hot,” Simon suggests as we near the highest point of the plateau.
“Humph. I guess I’ll just stay inside in the aircon, then.” Riley tries and fails to hide her disappointment, still struggling to keep up with Ethan.
The Cambridge boys share a look.
“There’s no aircon on the boat, is there?” I whisper.
With cheeky grins, they shake their heads and hold their fingers to their lips. Riley is in for a big disappointment.
The view back towards the Pyramids is superb, and waiting there with a camel for each of us is Ashraf and a collection of grinning young Egyptian boys.
“No visit to Giza is complete without a camel ride,” Ethan explains as I try to maintain some small level of cool.
Inside, I’m jumping up and down like a kid about to go on their first roller coaster ride.
“Oh my God. They smell terrible ,” Riley complains, screwing up her face as her camel is presented to her with pride.
“The camels belong to these boys,” Ethan explains with a disapproving frown at Riley. “They’re very proud of them and their industriousness at starting a small business.”
“ As-Salaam Aleikum .” I smile at the boy leading a camel towards me. He beams even wider. “Your camel is very beautiful.” And it is. Its hair is light and curly, the saddle brightly coloured and decorated with pompoms and ribbons.
“ Wa ‘aleikum-u s-salam, Amira,” he replies, as the camel sits to allow me to climb aboard.
I’m barely in the saddle when Riley sets up a blood-curdling scream. Her camel is lurching to its feet, back legs first, throwing her forward in the saddle. The scream spooks the other camels, and they start shifting in agitation, letting out loud, guttural grunts. All eyes turn towards Riley’s camel. I hold on tight as my camel stands, and my handler jumps in to help Riley, whose screams have turned to frightened whimpers.
I’m so fascinated watching the handlers settle the anxious camels that, at first, I don’t notice my saddle starting to slide backwards. All the handlers are busy, distracted by Riley and her carrying on. But my saddle and I are sliding. Falling backwards. Fast. Off a very tall animal.
There’s no time to call for help, so I close my eyes and brace for impact, hoping the camel doesn’t step back on me once I’m on the ground.
Suddenly there are strong arms, a familiar peppery smell and a firm chest catching me seconds before I hit the rock-strewn sand.
The speed of my fall turns into a slow-motion capture. Ethan’s deep blue-grey eyes stare into mine, his expression a mixture of fear, irritation and, strangely, humour. His heart is beating fast under the hand I raise to his chest, almost as if to reassure myself he’s real, he has me safe in his arms, and he’s not a wish or a dream.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine. Thank you. How did you get to me in time? You were already on your camel.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve had to jump off a camel in a hurry. Probably won’t be the last.” Ethan lowers my legs but keeps an arm around my back, holding me to the warmth of his chest.
I can’t help the bubble of laughter. “I hope someone got all that on their phone.”
“Me too. You should’ve seen your face.”
“What happened?” I make no move to step away, although I know I should.
“It looks like the girth on your saddle wasn’t tightened enough. They usually check it when the camel stands up, but …” Ethan tips his head towards Riley and rolls his eyes.
We stand grinning at one another until angry yelling pierces the moment of connection. The head handler is yelling at my poor camel owner, arms flailing.
Now everything is happening in fast forward.
“Oh, no. La, la . It’s not his fault.” I try to intervene.
Ashraf strides over from where he was sitting cross-legged on the sand. Ethan moves me away from the argument while he and Ashraf try to calm tempers.
Bart and Simon jump down from their camels.
“That was bloody brilliant. And I managed to get most of it.” Simon hands me his phone and I watch the episode back, laughing because Ethan was right. My face was priceless.
“Good on you, Simon. While I was falling to my death, you were filming,” I tease.
“I knew Ethan had you.” Yes. Ethan did have me. Even though it’s a bit blurry, you can see the terror in Ethan’s eyes as he leaps from his camel. I just hope anyone watching it puts it down to fear of losing a student in his care.
“Did I hear the handler call you Amira?” Bart asks.
“Yes, I think so. Why? What does it mean?”
“Interesting. It means princess. Guess he likes you.”
“I’m sure they call all women that. Part of the schtick to make you feel good.”
Both Bart and Simon shake their heads.
“First time I’ve heard it,” Simon says as he climbs back up onto his camel.
I have to admit, I’m feeling a little overwrought, although whether from the potential fall, the catch, or the argument that’s finally winding down, I don’t know. So maybe it’s my imagination, but as I look up, I see Riley still clinging to her restless camel, a look of pure venom in her eyes.
After eventually returning to the Pyramids on our motley collection of camels, we grab some dinner at a tiny street stall, where, yet again, Ethan is a familiar face. All except Garret, who insists on eating the bag of crisps he bought at the little shop in the hotel.
“I have a sensitive digestive system,” he says defensively when Jeremy teases him for being a chicken.
The Sound and Light Show at the Pyramids started in the early 1960s and still gets a huge crowd. Everything is dark as we take our seats, and I stumble as Riley shoves me out of the way in her haste to get a seat beside Ethan. It backfires on her because he catches me and guides me into the seat on the other side of him. Which is unfortunate because the last place I need to be is sitting beside Ethan in these tightly packed little plastic chairs, our thighs pressed together. Especially after what happened earlier.
Luckily, Riley demands his attention and I’m free to tune out the conversation and soak up the brooding silence of the Pyramids I know are out there in the dark.
A loud clash of symbols and a flash of light has me jumping in my seat. The Pyramids, the Sphinx, the funerary temples, the causeway are all suddenly lit up against the night sky. For nearly an hour, I’m transfixed. The lights and the lasers are so stunning I don’t know where to look, and the music and sound effects reverberate right to your core. It’s spectacular. I’m so engrossed I almost don’t notice the warmth of Ethan’s shoulder brushing mine or the smell of his aftershave. Not until we’re abruptly plunged into the dark and silent night. It takes me a moment to gather my wits. I glance at Ethan, who looks as moved as I feel. You’d think after so many years, he might be used to the extravaganza we’ve just seen. His expression tells me otherwise. Ethan’s almost as overwhelmed as me.
“Wow,” is all I can manage.
“I know.” He smiles in response.
The bus ride home is a rowdy one. Everyone is on a high after the show. Even Garret is full of excitement. Everyone is talking over each other, laughing, comparing high points. All but one of us.
Riley has been uncharacteristically quiet. When the door of our room closes behind us, she wastes no time in letting me know why.
“What’s going on with you and Ethan?” she demands before I’ve even taken off my boots.
“What? Nothing. What are you talking about?” I’m not a good liar, so the distraction of unlacing my boots is a welcome one.
“He leapt off that camel of his to save you so fast my head spun. He didn’t do that for me.”
“Well, you weren’t falling off a camel.”
“I nearly did. It tried to throw me off.”
“You weren’t going to fall. And it wasn't trying to throw you off. They all stand up like that. Back legs first. How can you not know that?”
“I’ve never been to Egypt before. How am I supposed to know?” Riley starts tossing things around in her suitcase.
“Neither have I. But I know how a camel stands up.” I go about getting ready for a quick shower.
“Humph. I saw the way you looked at each other. And the way he sat you next to him at the show.”
“I think your imagination is getting the better of you, Riley.” I turn my back, hoping my voice is casual enough to put her off the scent because I suspect my face tells a different story.
“I don’t think so. You were the one who said getting involved with a lecturer was bad. I’ll be watching you,” she calls as I close the bathroom door.
Shit.
We haven’t even made it to the dig site yet, and Riley is already suspicious.
As the trickle of almost-warm water runs over me, I try to convince myself there’s nothing going on. Nothing for Riley to see.
But those looks we shared this morning, the few seconds in Ethan’s arms this afternoon, that one glance after the Sound and Light Show, have conspired to prove me to be a dirty liar. Because maybe we’re not acting on them, but there are plenty of feelings going on. And they’re all ‘not safe for work’.