Whispers in the Sand. Barbara Erskine

plane, that’s all.’

      ‘I see.’ Andy stared over his shoulder, then he turned back to her. ‘So. It’s brave of you to travel out here on your own. What made you decide to come to Egypt after dumping hubby?’

      She winced. ‘It is as you said. I have a passion for things Egyptian. Well, perhaps that’s putting it too strongly. My great-great-grandmother was a woman called Louisa Shelley. She came out here to paint in the late 1860s –’

      ‘The Louisa Shelley? The watercolourist?’ She had his attention completely now. ‘But she is very well known! I sold one of her sketches not six months ago.’

      ‘Sold?’ Anna frowned.

      ‘In my shop. I deal in fine art and antiques.’ He smiled at her.

      Beyond him Charley leant forward and smacked him on the wrist. ‘No shop, Andy, please. You promised.’ She surveyed Anna carefully, her eyes wary. ‘Don’t encourage him!’ There was no friendly smile as she looked Anna up and down. ‘What do you do?’ She waited, eyebrows raised.

      Not giving her a chance to reply Andy leapt in for her. ‘She’s here to spend her ex-husband’s fortune, darling, what do you think? And I’ll bet I can sell her some gorgeous things when we all get home, but for now we’re going to concentrate on Egyptian goodies, and first of all, Egyptian food. Did you know this boat is famous for its food?’

      Anna glanced at Andy. His open cheerfulness encouraged confidences. She noticed suddenly that Charley’s hand, resting on the table beside her plate, was touching Andy’s. So, he was not as unattached as all that. She would have to be careful. ‘If you’re interested in art and antiques perhaps I should show you my Ancient Egyptian scent bottle!’ She smiled.

      Andy leant back in his chair, his head cocked on one side. ‘Genuine Ancient Egyptian?’ He waited attentively.

      She shrugged. ‘I have been told not. But it came from Louisa and I think she thought it was. I have her diary with me. I’ll see if she mentions where she found it. I just thought it would be fun to bring it with me. Back to the place of its origin as it were.’

      ‘Indeed.’ Andy watched as a Nubian waiter approached with their soup. ‘You must show it to me some time. I know a little about ancient artefacts, and I would love to see Louisa Shelley’s diary. Are there any sketches in it, by any chance?’ He had picked up his bread roll and was crumbling it between his fingers.

      Anna nodded. ‘A few, tiny thumbnail ones. She did most of her sketches in the special sketchbooks she had with her.’

      She was aware suddenly that at the next table her neighbour from the plane had realised she was there. He was staring at her with such close attention that she suspected he had been listening to their conversation. She gave him a small quick smile – no more than the slightest acknowledgement – and saw him nod curtly in return.

      ‘Your flight companion has spotted you, I see.’ Andy’s voice in her ear was amused.

      ‘So it seems.’ Anna wondered why the man’s neighbour, Serena, was sitting separately and not at the table with her companions. So far she had not even turned to acknowledge them. Even as she watched the woman smiled across at her neighbour and began talking animatedly to him. He turned back towards her at once, and as his head turned Anna caught sight of the not unattractive smile.

      She picked up her spoon. The soup was made of vegetables, lightly seasoned and thin but tasty. It was very welcome after the packaged food on the journey. ‘He was fascinated by the diary. I was reading it on the flight and he couldn’t keep his eyes off it.’

      ‘Indeed.’ Andy’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘Anna, you will take care of it, won’t you? I’m sure it must be extremely valuable. It would be very tempting to anyone who guessed what it was.’ His eyes on her face were concerned, sincere.

      For the first time in ages Anna felt a small rush of grateful happiness. He actually seemed genuinely interested in what she was saying. ‘You are not suggesting that he would try and steal it?’

      ‘No, of course not. I’m sure he was just curious. A manuscript diary is not the usual airport reading that one expects to see on a plane.’ He chuckled.

      Anna glanced back towards the other table again and was disconcerted to find the man in the blue shirt still watching her. There was a look of faintly sardonic amusement on his face. She looked away, embarrassed at being caught staring and without thinking she smiled nervously at the tall Nubian standing behind the serving counter. He caught her eye and in a moment was beside her. ‘More soup, madam?’

      Andy chuckled. ‘Go on. You’ll have to have it now.’

      She glanced up. ‘Yes. Please. That would be lovely.’ Watching her plate disappear she shrugged helplessly. ‘They are going to think that I’m really greedy.’

      ‘Or just hungry.’ Andy laughed again. ‘Just to make you feel better I shall have some too. You do realise that this is a four course meal,’ he went on as her brimming plate reappeared.

      ‘No!’

      ‘Yes! And I shall order some wine to accompany it.’ He raised his hand and beckoned the waiter back.

      ‘I love their robes,’ Anna whispered when the man had finished serving them and returned to his watchful pose by the counter. The waiters were dressed in long striped cotton shift-like garments, fastened round the waist with red cummerbunds. ‘They look fantastically glamorous.’

      Andy reached for the bottle. ‘They’re called galabiyyas.’

      ‘What are?’

      ‘The robes, as you put it, that the men here wear. Enormously comfortable. Cool.’ Turning his back on the neighbouring table he leant back in his chair and beamed first at Charley, who was beginning to scowl at him, clearly resenting the attention he was paying to her, and then back at Anna. ‘No doubt we shall have to don such apparel at some time during the voyage. Even the most salubrious and posh of vessels feel bound to humiliate their passengers with a fancy dress party of some kind, I gather.’

      ‘I’m beginning to suspect that this is not your first trip to Egypt.’ Anna watched as he squinted at the label on the wine bottle which had appeared.

      ‘My first on a cruise like this.’ He slopped a little wine into his glass and raised it to his nose speculatively. ‘This may be a mistake. One should really stick to beer in Egypt unless one wants to buy French wine. Not bad, I suppose. Want some?’ He reached for her glass.

      Beyond him Charley was engaged at last in a lively conversation with Ben Forbes. Her long red hair had fallen forward over her shoulder and a few strands were trailing in her soup. She didn’t seem to notice.

      ‘I was a bit nervous, coming on a trip like this on my own,’ Anna went on. ‘I’ll know who to ask for advice.’

      ‘Indeed you will.’ He winked. ‘Now, eat that soup. I can see the hors d’oeuvres waiting to come in.’

      When the meal was at last finished almost all the passengers made their way up to the lounge bar and some of them, thence, through the double doors out onto the deck. As she stepped out into the darkness, Anna shivered. She had expected the earlier balmy evening air, but a sharp breeze had sprung up. Threading her way between the tables and chairs she made her way aft and leant on the rail alone. Andy and Charley had stopped inside at the bar and she could hear their laughter through the half-open door. The river was broad at this point, though she could see little in the darkness. On the bank against which they were moored the houses, built with mud brick and clustered closely together were mostly without lights and the only sound, of distant singing, came from another boat further along the bank and from the occasional slap of water against the mud.

      ‘So, it appears we are on the same cruise after all.’ The voice at her elbow made her jump. ‘Forgive me for doubting your good taste.’

      Turning she saw the blue shirt, the sandy hair. He was leaning