Day Two
28th June, Thursday

The heat did not abate nor did it display signs of ceasing. Early morning, usually cool and temperate, remained humid. Alistair's night was not a comfortable one. He awoke numerous times making his night's rest exceptionally tiresome. Thus, it was not a great surprise that there was tension when everyone made their way to the kitchen for breakfast. The dining table accommodated everyone, except for Lara, quite early on. Winston was preparing food; the frying pan sizzled and exploded frequently, browning the sausages contained within. In a pot nearby, a serving of baked beans, flowing in tomato sauce, boiled contently. Alistair was occupied reading a newspaper while Zip took the liberty of reading some messages on his phone. It was only the older, grey-haired man that undertook strenuous activity to bring the breakfast preparations to a tasty conclusion. His two guests sat at the table, not doing much.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Lara paced into the kitchen.

"Morning Winston!" she exclaimed. Zip and Alistair were excluded from the greeting. However, they obediently continued with their prior occupations, almost pretending not to have heard her.

"Morning my lady. Are you having your usual?" whispered back Winston.

"No, Winston. I am afraid that I must leave rather quickly." All three men centred their eyes on the woman as soon as she finished saying the last words of the sentence. She was in constant flux; at one moment taking an apple to then move onto the toast left from yesterday.

The silence was uncomfortable. The males were eager to learn why Lara remained in such a hurry and what could possibly require her this early. Winston turned around, after a few seconds of fixing his eyes on the tomb raider, and said with his trustworthy, frail voice: "My lady. Do you require packing? Where are your journeys taking you this morning?".

All present were relieved at Winston's question. After all, its intent of squeezing information out of Lara was veiled quite conveniently in Winston's professionalism and a sense of duty. "The UCL, they have been beginning for a lecture on a certain topic for ages now and last night I received a phone-call. I will lead a seminar today."

"UCL? A little help?" interrupted Zip. Lara finally looked at him, as though he only appeared there right now. Even Alistair took a break from his article, looked at Zip with mockery and sighed loudly.

Lara said: "University College London. Their archaeology society has been flooding me with requests and now I have free time. It's worked out quite nicely!" Crunch! The lady dug into her red apple at the end of the sentence. The sudden disappearance of the owner of the Manor was surprising. Nowadays she rarely left the house on unofficial business. She seemed to be there at all times. Consequently, when all learned that she will be gone, and from initial approximates for the whole day, they were not sure what to expect.

"Are you OK with the tech and transport?" asked Zip.

"Yes, thanks Zip. Thankfully, I can still find my way around Surrey." Lara turned to Winston: "Winston, I would greatly appreciate it if you could get my bike ready." The old man acquiesced and left the room in order to fulfil his order.

Alistair was still unaffected by the conversation. The rustling of the newspaper was a cyclical feature, happening now and again. However, rather slyly, the vexed man put down the paper and leaning on the table, said in a decisive tone:

"What do those squirrels at the UCL want this time?".

Alistair's sense of pride at being an independent scholar was obvious in his militant outlook on different educational institutions. He could not stand Lara sharing his own research and her own findings with the outside world but he knew that in the long run, she was right.

Lara responded rather quickly but continued to move about in search of her bike keys. "They are interested in my findings. You see, not all archaeologists discover King Arthur's sword that easily and efficiently." Alistair arose from the chair. "Lara, you risked your life for this and now you are just going to tell everyone about what we learnt?". The man was clearly troubled. Lara sighed. "Alistair. I will not tell more than needs to be told. I'm there to explain that King Arthur was more than a myth and not that I once was the holder of his sword, thrashing everything around with thunderbolts. Trust me, I'll be fine!". She finally grabbed her keys.

Skipping out of the room she waved the two men goodbye. Seconds later a loud thud announced her departure; the wooden doors of the main entrance to the manor were closed as soon as Winston returned to the premises. That was it. Silence. Lara left the Manor for the first time in a few months and the three had the place all to themselves.


Zip was studying a programming glitch in a latest version of some software he designed for the PDA. The task was cumbersome. It was around midday. The computers whirred and made a substantial amount of noise. He was extremely tired, especially considering he already spent the entire morning doing the same thing and tasks that were extremely repetetive. Zip felt tempted to abandon his workstation and go for a swim, just to relax. However, to his relief, he spotted something quite extraordinary. Extending his head around his monitor, he noticed Alistair, wading through the cables to finally make eye contact with Zip.

"Is the world ending or has Alistair Fletcher abandoned his books!? And at such a time too! What are you doing here man?" Zip sat back on his chair and pointed to a wooden stool, as if inviting Alistair to sit upon it. Instead, he opted to lean against the wall and cross his arms.

"Well. I have come in peace to hold a conversation. Firstly, what the bloody hell happened last night?"

Zip chuckled.

"Oh man, you're not going to fry me over that now, are you? You see, Lara was walking back from a swim and I decided to scare her a bit. It was a bad idea."

"Amateur. You got battered, didn't you?"

"What did it look like?" asked Zip with a trace of sarcasm.

"Well. See, I came to talk about this morning. I am worried. This entire situation seemed strange."

"What do you mean, man?" asked Zip. Alistair tutted and moved his hands. "Just everything, I mean...Lara seemed a bit on the edge, didn't she?"

"Wow. You clearly do not know her too well."

"I know her well enough to assume that she will politely greet her friends in the morning. She ignored us completely – did that not surprise you a bit?" pleaded Alistair. Zip shook his head in agreement and added: "I guess you are right. That is unlike her." A stint of silence followed. Both men gathered theories and contemplated the possible cause of such a sudden change. "But why?" began Zip.

"I do not know. But there is one thing I can tell you." Alistair signalled Zip to follow him. The two men walked slowly through the Manor's numerous corridors to finally arrive at Alistair's room. It was a plain space with a normal-sized bed and a large clock on the wall. Zip surveyed the interior carefully searching for a possible point of ridicule but considering the seriousness of the circumstances, he abstained from the desired banter.

Suddenly, Alistair bent over to retrieve a bundle of papers from one of the drawers of his wooden cabinet, located neatly before his bed. Zip sat down on the bed alongside Alistair. He began to talk: "I might not love that place too much" continued Alistair "but I did bother to keep a certain leaflet that I was gifted from a professor down at the UCL." Alistair continued to look through the blue booklet. A golden ribbon whistled between the pages.

"Here!" exclaimed the young man, directing his finger at an index table. Zip paid closer attention to its contents. "Term dates. Wait..." Zip froze. Alistair's heart beat twice as quick as usual. Both retained serious expressions. Zip obliged the pair and read the last column out loud: "Term VI conclusion: 17 May. Term VII conclusion: 20 June. How many terms are there?"

"Seven. Zip..." said Alistair "The UCL are out of term. The archaeological society is closed; they are all probably wandering about Egypt right now, breaking stuff. Zip, what is that woman doing?"

"Man, I have no idea" Both looked hopelessly concerned. "But she's not leading a lecture, that is for sure."


Thanks for bearing with me. The story shall continue.