Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
AN UNWELCOME DESCENT . . .
Gerald and Hattie parted as they left the tomb and stepped into the sunshine. Ahead, the group had gathered to study the view, and Gerald could see that Sam was pointing down at Elephantine Island and explaining the area’s history.
Gerald watched Hattie as she rejoined the group.
He could still taste her kiss on his lips and smell the faint floral trace of her perfume.
Had their embrace really happened in the darkness of the tomb?
His feelings were running riot, but not with distress or dismay and, as his smile widened, he felt absurdly light-headed, like a love-struck teen.
What mystified him was the intensity of his feelings for Hattie.
When he’d first met Anouska, he’d been blinded by the brilliance of her beauty, mistaking infatuation for feelings that he’d since come to realise were never real.
This felt so different. Hattie was lovely, and her beauty was in her wit and the kindness she dispensed.
Watching her now as she chatted and laughed at something one of the guests had said, he felt certain that whatever had happened in the tomb was the start of something very real.
A woman like Hattie would enhance his life with interesting conversation and exciting ideas.
Her work had substance, and it mattered, helping others solve life’s problems. With Hattie, he imagined days filled with purpose, and spirited debates over dinner, not worrying about the loudness of his shirt, the length of his shorts or if that extra helping of pudding would be judged.
With his hat dipped low to shade his eyes, Gerald was so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed that Sam had steered the group towards the narrow, rocky path that zig-zagged down the hillside, to take them to the café.
He didn’t see that Anouska had crept away from the others, moving soundlessly on the dust, reaching him as the group rounded a curve, their voices drifting up on the wind.
Gerald’s stance was wobbly as he adjusted his pole for the descent, his head in the clouds and mind still buzzing with thoughts of his possible future.
He never heard Anouska approach.
When her hands shot out and shoved him hard between the shoulder blades, for a split second, he didn’t understand what was happening.
Gerald’s world tilted as gravel skidded beneath his feet.
As his pole flew from his grasp, his fingers clawed at empty air, and the sky lurched into view.
Gerald was falling and twisted instinctively, as stones cascaded and thorny bushes clawed at his sleeves.
Anouska stood on the hillside, perfectly still, as Gerald disappeared.
In the hush after her action she remembered Sam’s words that a fall on this hill could break a man’s neck, and for a moment her twisted sense of satisfaction mingled with panic as her pulse thudded in her ears.
But Gerald didn’t appreciate her, nor did he understand what their parting would cost her.
Anouska took a deep breath and told herself that the fall was his own fault.
She’d been ruthless in the past and, now, had been ruthless once again to save herself.
Stepping back into the shadows to hurry along the path, she caught up with the descending group, as though she’d never been parted.
When everyone paused at the top of the narrow steps to form a single file, Anouska shaded her eyes and looked around as though she’d only just noticed her husband’s absence.
‘Has anyone seen Gerald?’ she asked.
Hattie was reaching for Sam’s arm as he steadied guests down the narrow, uneven steps when she heard Anouska’s voice. Swivelling around too quickly, she almost lost her balance as her eyes scanned the incline they’d just left.
‘Gerald is still up there,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry, he’ll soon catch up,’ Sam replied, his free hand closing around her waist as he began to ease her down. ‘He’s probably stopped to take a drink of water.’
Hattie held back, pulling his hand away. ‘I’m going back to make sure he’s alright.’
‘Very well, but don’t dither,’ Sam said impatiently. ‘We have a stop at the café, and the feluccas are waiting to take us to Kitchener’s Gardens.’
‘Hey, Hattie!’ Ezra called. ‘Wait for me!’
Grateful for his support, Hattie caught hold of Ezra’s arm, and together they began to climb back up.
Anouska courteously stepped aside. ‘Oh, dear,’ she whispered, ‘have you lost someone?’
Hattie was about to tell Anouska to bog off back down the hill, but anxiety for Gerald overruled.
There was something wrong. She could feel it.
Above them, the path curved, and the wind seemed to have risen, skimming dust across the rocks.
When they reached the spot where the group had been standing, Hattie stopped, her head to one side, senses alert as she searched for Gerald.
But all she could hear was the rustle of scrub and the unmistakable sound of stones skittering down the hill . . .
Gerald knew he was about to die. Falling, he felt the scrape of his skin against stone and the pain as his shoulder struck rock.
His hat tore free, and he was unable to cry out as air escaped his lungs, and gravel cascaded around him.
In one horrifying flash, he saw the jagged rocks beneath him as he clawed at the hillside, desperately trying to break his fall.
Suddenly, his feet hit hard, and – in the impact – Gerald realised that he’d stopped. He was balancing precariously on a thin ledge of shale that crumbled beneath his boots.
This is how it ends, he thought as the seconds ticked by.
One single misstep and he’d be dead. Knowing that the ledge wouldn’t hold him for long, he tried to shout, but no words came, and with his heart hammering, Gerald closed his eyes and flattened himself against the rock.
And then . . . Impossibly!
A hand shot out from the rock face and grabbed a fistful of Gerald’s shirt. For a heartbeat, Gerald couldn’t understand what was happening and opened his eyes to find Peter, wildly out of place, peering out of an opening.
‘Come on, don’t stand there gawping; the ledge is crumbling!’ Peter hissed. ‘Give me your hand!’ He was braced in a narrow fissure, his body half out, the other anchored in the dark tunnel. ‘Your hand!’ Peter snapped again. ‘Now, man!’
As Gerald tentatively moved, a scatter of pebbles broke away, and the sound of their fall seemed to go on forever. With blind instinct, Gerald flung his left hand out and felt Peter catch it. His grip was strong as his fingers locked around Gerald’s wrist.
‘I’ve got you,’ Peter said, breathlessly. ‘Edge along the ridge towards me.’
Tentatively, Gerald moved, his body brushing the rock.
‘Okay, one foot up on this stone . . .’
With a sharp grunt, Peter dragged Gerald upwards and hauled him inside the opening until they both fell on the solid ground.
‘Good job I was on duty,’ Peter muttered at last.
Gerald, open-mouthed, could only stare at him. Dust clung to his clothing and scratched at his eyes. ‘You saved my life . . .’ he said, when he finally found his voice.
Peter shifted. ‘You need to be careful out there. It’s easy to slip and fall,’ he said, brushing debris from his shirt.
Gerald swallowed. ‘I didn’t slip,’ he said quietly.
Peter shrugged. ‘Strange things happen in my world, and it’s a nasty drop.’ He held out his hand again. ‘Come on,’ he said, tugging Gerald. ‘It’s all downwards from here.’ They moved slowly along the dark corridor, using Peter’s torch as a guide, until they came to the exit.
Peter, privately miffed by Anouska’s dismissal, told Gerald that he’d spoken to an Egyptian guide and learned that there was a tunnel, a concealed maintenance passage, cut into the hillside many decades before.
The guide had shown Peter to the entrance and told him that it ended on the path at the bottom of the track.
‘When I heard rocks falling, I looked out,’ Peter said. ‘It was lucky that there was a wide fissure, and I could see you.’
As they stepped out into the blazing sunshine, Gerald blinked hard and shook dust from his hair. His hat and pole had gone, his shirt was ruined, and his hands, arms, and legs bore scratches that stung.
But he was upright, safe, and back on solid ground.
Hattie, who’d abandoned Ezra to continue searching for Gerald in the tombs, had all but flown down the hillside in her panic.
She’d half expected to see a crumpled, limp body sprawled by the camels below.
Determined not to show signs of alarm, she steadied her breathing, counted to ten, and made her way over to Gerald.
‘I’ll just call Ezra and tell him you’re here,’ she said and fumbled for her phone.
Sam, entirely oblivious to what had occurred on the hillside, had shepherded the rest of the party to the café, where they were enjoying cold drinks and a rest.
Gerald turned and there, her expression filled with disbelief, was Anouska.
As he moved towards her, he saw that the colour had drained from her face. She stared at Gerald as though he were a ghost and he could see her panic as she scrambled for an explanation.
Had she misjudged? Had someone seen? Gerald was meant to be gone, and yet here he was, standing in the sunlight!
She was desperately struggling to regain control, hoping that as she looked around, no one had noticed her fear.
But in that moment, Gerald knew exactly what had happened. He watched her disappear into the café and felt his anger building. He hadn’t slipped, and it was clear that Anouska hadn’t expected to see him unscathed, with nothing broken. Namely, his neck.
He walked back to Hattie.
‘What happened?’ Hattie urged.
‘Not here, not now,’ he said, and felt Hattie take his arm. ‘But I’ll tell you all about it later.’
As they perched on a bench, Hattie reached into her bag and, with antiseptic wipes and various paraphernalia, attended to Gerald’s grazes.
‘My word, and you’ve only just started to heal from your tumble in the tomb of Tutankhamun,’ she said. ‘But thankfully, things aren’t too bad, and no stitches are required.’