Chapter 22 #2
Had Gerald found the courage to confront Anouska? Or had Anouska turned the tables on him before he’d even managed to begin? The distant replies seemed to confirm that whatever had been said in the dark had not been resolved by morning.
As they set off, following Sam through their own boat and then into the reception areas of the five vessels moored alongside, Hattie was reminded of how the riverboats were stacked shoulder to shoulder.
They walked across polished lobbies and past reception staff, and she was about to step onto the gangplank to the quay when a hand clamped around her arm.
‘Leave my husband alone!’
The words were hissed into Hattie’s ear, and she turned, startled.
Anouska stood inches away, eyes blazing. Her grip tightened, and Hattie felt nails digging through her sleeve. But before Hattie could respond, Anouska pushed past her.
Hattie rubbed her arm and thought of Gerald. She hoped he was alright and not nursing more than the hangover from an argument.
Sam held up a sign labelled SS Nefertari, then directed the group to a short walk from the boat, where two feluccas waited at the edge of the Corniche.
Stepping carefully down into the first one, Hattie made herself comfortable beside Ezra as the sail was raised and the boatman pushed off with a long pole. As the shore fell away, she saw Gerald and the remaining guests, including Peter, boarding the second felucca.
The sail filled, and the boat leaned into the wind, leaving the city of Aswan behind. At the front, Anouska, oblivious to others, held her selfie stick and posed gracefully against a backdrop of blue-green river.
Hattie watched Ezra trail his fingers in the water as he stared out to the West Bank. For thousands of years, she thought, the river had carried people like them and would go on doing so, no doubt for as long again.
She rested her bag against her knee as ahead, the West Bank rose in soft slopes, and the Tombs of the Nobles emerged slowly from the haze.
As they drew nearer, she noted that the hillside sharpened into clarity.
It’s incline steepened, the earth almost chalk-white under the sun, bathed in a timeless glow.
Hattie felt a slight unease. Did the nobles look down from above, resisting those who came looking?
She shrugged off the feeling, and as the felucca reached the shore, watched the boatman steady it, while Sam helped guests disembark into the sudden heat. As Hattie stepped forward, she felt his hand close around hers, and as she shifted her weight, he slid the other around her waist.
‘You’re looking lovely today,’ Sam whispered, his hand lingering as she caught the scent of his aftershave.
Resisting the urge to push Sam into the water, Hattie eased her hand from his grasp.
Ezra waited for Hattie, and together they followed the dusty path away from the river that led to a thin patch of shade, where a few dilapidated huts sagged against one another.
Nearby, a man stood holding the bridles of two weary-looking camels, their long lashes half lowered, saddles faded and frayed.
Hattie thought of the contrast with her cheerful, brightly coloured Claude as the man clicked his tongue and beckoned to the group.
‘Photo! Good picture!’
A few guests wandered over to the camels, while partners reached for cameras.
‘That’ll cost a packet,’ Hattie murmured to Ezra as they watched people pause and pose, then rummage into rucksacks for money.
With all the guests gathered, Sam ushered everyone to a cluster of tamarisk trees.
‘We are about to head up the steps and follow the track that leads to the Tombs of the Nobles,’ he announced.
‘Before we set off, I should mention that the climb is steep in places. If anyone has joint problems, heart conditions, or a fear of heights, you may prefer to wait here at the café.’
One or two guests grumbled as they split from the group.
‘Please go slowly and take great care,’ Sam said, ‘a fall here could break your neck.’
‘They didn’t explain any of that when we booked the excursion,’ Hattie whispered to Ezra.
‘Don’t worry, Hattie,’ Ezra said. ‘If you want to go see the tombs, I’ll help get you up there.’
Hattie thought that an escalator or chairlift would be a blessing, but instead replied, ‘You’re a darling, but I’ve come prepared.
’ She rummaged in her bag and triumphantly withdrew a folding walking pole.
With a flick of her wrist, Hattie snapped the pole to full length and, stabbing it in the ground, tested her weight against it. ‘Perfect,’ she said. ‘Lead the way!’
The path began almost immediately as they passed the two camels and followed a narrow track of loose stones. Hattie walked beside Ezra, who slowed his pace to accommodate her.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said. ‘You’re as fit and nimble as a mountain goat, go ahead and enjoy the view.’
But as the sun beat down on their shoulders and dust covered their shoes, Ezra replied that he was happy to be walking with her.
Steep steps lay ahead, and as if by magic, Egyptian men in flowing robes emerged from the shadows.
With smiles and insistent gestures, they held out hands to steady the walkers as the climb stretched on.
When the ground became more uneven, Hattie, with Ezra’s assistance, gratefully accepted their help. Pausing to reach for her water bottle, she took a drink.
Ahead, she could see Anouska, joined by Peter, as they pressed on without a backward glance.
Hattie hoped that Gerald was alright and turned to see him bringing up the rear, his steps deliberate and slow.
When he looked up, she waved and gave him an encouraging thumbs-up.
She watched as he raised his walking pole, then stopped and planted it.
‘Hang on a moment,’ she said to Ezra, with a flicker of concern. ‘I’m going to wait for Gerald.’
Ezra followed her gaze. It was obvious that Gerald was labouring.
‘No problem, Hattie, we’ll take it steady and walk with him,’ Ezra said.
Hattie held out her bottle. ‘A slurp of this will have him skipping up in no time,’ she said as Ezra took the bottle and hurried back down. She tilted her hat to watch Ezra hand the electrolyte-infused drink to Gerald, and a few minutes later, the pair were by her side.
‘You guys don’t have to do this,’ Ezra said. ‘You could go down and grab a Coke in the café, and I can give you all the tomb talk later.’
Hattie thought that she couldn’t wish for anything nicer than sitting in a shady spot with Gerald by her side, and plenty of distance between them and Anouska.
But Gerald was determined.
Thanking Ezra, he said, ‘We’ve got this far, and it would be a shame not to see the tombs, especially as the air might be cooler inside.’
The Nile spread below them, the feluccas small triangles of white, while above, the tomb entrances waited, dark rectangles cut into rock that led to the burial chambers.
They began to climb again, slower now, stopping every few yards to catch their breath and enjoy the view. When they reached the top, slabs of stone, no wider than a footstep, nestled beneath a crumbling wall, and Egyptian hands reached out to pull them onto the path beside the tombs.
Thanking the guides, Hattie and Gerald turned to each other and grinned.
‘We made it!’ Hattie laughed and high-fived her walking companions. ‘We’re oldies but goodies,’ she added in triumph.
Ahead of them, Anouska had already claimed the best vantage point. With her selfie stick extended, she angled herself, chin tilted, sunglasses adjusted, for shots of @AnouskaDelusca and the magnificent backdrop of Elephantine Island, which appeared sun-washed and green against the sparkling Nile.
‘Is your wife not interested in the tombs?’ Ezra asked Gerald.
‘She won’t step into the dark when there’s a photo opportunity in the light,’ Gerald replied.
Sam waited at the top and now, acknowledging that his party were all together, held up his sign and led the way into the first tomb.
Inside, the air was cooler, and – on the walls – faint paintings could be seen.
Vertical columns of hieroglyphs, and faded reds and ochres depicting tall men, whom Sam explained had one foot stepping forward into eternity.
Women with fine black hair and long white dresses held hands high with offerings.
‘Can you make out the figures of servants?’ Sam asked and pointed in the darkness to the walls with the torch on his phone.
‘Some are carrying jars and flowers, and – on the ceiling – you may be able to see the faint traces of stars. These are scenes of daily life designed to ensure continuity into the afterlife.’
‘How old are these depictions?’ Peter asked.
‘More than two thousand years,’ Sam replied as he moved them into the next chamber.
Hattie and Gerald perched on a ledge as Sam continued to explain that the nobles buried in these tombs were powerful local officials who oversaw trade excursions and military campaigns.
‘Look,’ he said, ‘these inscriptions describe the African expeditions of Harkhuf and Sarenput, governors of Egypt’s southern frontier, whose tombs overlook the border they once controlled.’
‘But why were they buried here?’ Peter spoke up again.
Sam smiled. ‘The West Bank was associated with the land of the dead, where the sun sets each day . . .’ he paused ‘. . . and being buried overlooking the Nile symbolised eternal authority over the region they governed.
As the party moved from the tomb to the next, Gerald and Hattie stayed put.
‘We’re good,’ Hattie said when an Egyptian man appeared beside them, gesturing to them to move on. She ignored the outstretched hand and the man’s hopeful expression.
But Gerald reached into his pocket and retrieved a note. ‘Worth a few dollars for a bit of peace.’ He smiled as the man hurried away.
Aware that they were finally alone, Hattie lowered her voice. ‘How are you? I heard a bit of a rumpus during the night.’
‘Was that when Anouska hurled a stiletto at me,’ Gerald replied, ‘or when she locked me out of our room?’