Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me
A few weeks after I post this I'll be going off to University, and I don't think I'll be writing anything else for a time. Therefore this "Secret Letters" trilogy will probably be the last fan-fiction I've written, if not for ever, then at least for a while (unless creative inspiration strikes over the few weeks before Uni), and I'd like everyone who reads it to consider it my 'swan song'. Hope you like each section, as I think they're the best pieces of the few I've written.
Evelyn O'Connell wandered aimlessly around her huge house. It had been only a few months since they'd come back from Egypt, a little longer since they'd started events at Hamunaptra, which had led to the awakening of a three thousand year old mummy, and, more importantly, resulted in the marriage between her and Rick O'Connell.
She supposed that, due to the very large amount of money they now had from the treasure they'd unwittingly brought back, the marriage between her and Rick could have been a large, lavish affair. But that hadn't been what she'd wanted. Her childhood dreams had never been of white weddings and huge dresses. Instead they'd been of exploring Egypt, making amazing discoveries. Until her trip to Hamunaptra, she'd thought that it wouldn't ever be possible, that she was fated to spend her life, growing old, as a spinster, in the Museum of Antiquities.
Now, all that was different. She had an amazing, and very handsome, husband. The Museum in Cairo had been all but destroyed during Imohtep's brief reign, and she'd decided that she wanted to go back to England. Rick had agreed, but first they'd been married, in Egypt. It had been everything she'd hoped for. Short, simple and with the few people that she'd wanted to be there - Rick, her brother, a few friends from Cairo.
As a husband, Rick was surprisingly organised. Within days of returning to England, he'd gone house hunting. Not for him a little cottage in the country, or even a large town house. No, he wanted the best, and the largest. And he'd got it. She'd thought that, even with all the treasure and the slightly run down state of the place, it would be much too expensive. She was wrong about that. Rick had bought the place, then hired the best people, bullying them into doing exactly what he wanted, when he wanted, and for the price he wanted. He'd made deals, talked to the right people, and now the house was exactly how it was supposed to look - huge, imposing, and elegant. It had all been decorated inside as well. Rick had surprisingly good taste, although he'd made sure that Evy had the final say on anything she wanted. Now, it was all over and done with, and Evy was slightly overwhelmed with it all. It was everything she wanted, but she felt somehow… cheated. Which was stupid, because if she'd been in charge she'd have dithered for ages before finally getting herself organised, and the whole thing would probably have been a disaster. As it was, everything was perfect.
So why did she feel so downcast? The easy answer would be because Rick and Jonathon weren't there. Jonathon had taken quickly to the 'high life' of London, and he wanted to sell one of the pieces of treasure from the sack to fund what Evy suspected would be a marathon gambling session, and he'd asked Rick to go along with him because he had a knack for selling the treasure for the highest price possible.
So, maybe she was just feeling left out. It was more than that, though. She found that she was remembering their 'adventure' in Egypt with something approaching fondness, which was ridiculous because she'd almost been killed several times, as had Jonathon, Rick and that other man, from the Med-jai, and many people had been killed. The somewhat unnerving truth seemed to be that Evelyn Carn… no, Evelyn O'Connell liked danger and excitement. For heaven's sake, she told herself, you're a librarian. Except she wasn't, now. She didn't have a job. Maybe that was part of the problem too.
She came to a halt, realising that she was in the foyer of the house, staring at the door that led to Rick's 'study'. She had only rarely been in there, although Rick had made it quite clear that it was her house, and she could go anywhere without invitation. Old habits died hard, and her father, and especially her grandfather, had had their own private rooms, which women and children weren't allowed to enter, except by invitation. She'd explained this to Rick, and he'd laughed. Loudly. Then he'd scooped her up in his arms (which he could do with unnerving ease), kissed her, and told her that he loved the way she did that. What 'that' was, she still wasn't sure.
Anyway, the point was that she could easily enter the study. It was just that, while Rick wasn't there, entering it seemed doubly wrong. An invasion.
Oh, don't be silly, she told herself, and threw open the door.
Rick had overseen the furnishing of the room, and you could tell. There were no little feminine touches, although there were curtains. There was a mixture of objects and pieces placed around the room from all over the world, and a bookshelf lining one wall. That always surprised her slightly - she was so used to seeing Rick as a man of adventure that she somehow seemed to forget he could read.
She wandered over to the desk. On it, there was a huge ledger which Evy knew Rick used to keep the accounts, and a picture of her in a frame. She smiled, recognising the shot. A few days before they'd left Egypt, she and Rick had had a camel race. And there she was, perched on top of the camel, hair blowing, silly smile on her face, turning to laugh at someone. She guessed that it must have been taken just after she'd won. She smiled, shaking her head. She'd lived in Egypt for several years before meeting Rick O'Connell, and she'd never thought of having a camel race, just for fun.
She took a few steps back, looking thoughtfully at the desk. She knew this was the real reason why she'd come here. In that desk was a secret compartment. She knew that the desk had been specially made to Rick's specifications, and she'd seen the blueprints, although Rick didn't know that. The thought of whether he actually used the compartment, and what he used it for, had nagged at her since she'd seen the prints, although, up till now, she'd managed to restrain her curiosity.
She shouldn't be doing this. Memories flashed through her mind, fragments of old stories about young wives opening the locked room, discovering their husband's terrible secrets. But, what terrible secrets could Rick have? She hesitated, then knelt down, looking into the well of the desk. She reached out, touching here, and here, and with barely a whisper, the secret compartment slid open.
It was basically a deep drawer, containing a few things. She stood up, then sat on the chair next to her, balancing the drawer on the desk. She uncertainly pulled out a piece of material, frowning curiously. As she unfolded the gauzy fabric, she could smell something faint. She wondered for a moment, then smiled as the memory returned. She could smell the scent she always associated with Egypt. She unfolded it completely, and smiled. It was the veil from the Bedouin outfit she'd bought after she'd lost all her clothes on the trip to Hamunaptra. She'd thought that she'd left it behind. She brushed her hand along the length of it, then carefully refolded it, placing it on the desktop.
There was another picture of her, one she didn't remember anyone taking. It was a simple one, just showing her, stood at what she recognised as the edge of Cairo city, looking out over the desert. She was looking thoughtful, no smile or laughter. Is this how he thinks of me? She wondered, stomach tightening slightly at the thought. Whenever she thought of her husband one of the first things that came to mind was his sense of humour, his laughter.
There were a few other things present - a white ribbon she'd worn in her hair on their wedding day, a small ceremonial knife that Evy recognised as Jonathon's, and one more thing - a piece of paper rolled into a tube, and fastened with a piece of string, the knot reminding her unpleasantly of a hangman's noose.
She reached out to pick it up, and hesitated, hand trembling slightly. This wasn't a little thing, like all the other objects were. She knew, instinctively, that this was more important. She began to pull her hand back, then another memory pushed its way into her mind. She remembered one night, only a few days after she'd returned from Hamunaptra. Rick had already proposed (he did so on the journey back) and so she'd decided that it was probably all right to be alone, at night, in a room with him, if they just talked. He'd been holding her hand, and she'd seen a leather bracer on his arm. Just the one arm. She'd begun to tug at it, laughingly, curiously, and he'd stopped her. Quickly. Powerfully.
And she'd stopped laughing, and looked at him, slightly uneasy, not really afraid because she loved him and knew he loved her, but remembering how powerful Imotep had been when he'd dragged her away from the others in Cairo, how easily almost any man could overpower a woman. Rick must have seen the beginning of her unease because he'd quickly let go of her wrist, mumbling an apology. He'd turned away, and for a few seconds there'd been an uneasy silence. Then he turned back, and looked at her, concerned. "Evy, I'm sorry" he began again, and she'd shook her head, saying that it wasn't worth worrying about, but he'd cut her off, gently shushing her by placing a finger over her lips. Then he'd told her that what she was wondering about was the only secret that he'd ever keep from her. Anything else she could always know, or ask about, but she had to let him keep this one secret. She'd agreed, because she loved him, and, well, what else could she do? She knew now that there was a tattoo under the bracer - he didn't keep it on in bed, although there been a time when she thought he might - but she'd made a point of not looking at it. Because he'd asked her.
So, what was in the compartment wasn't a secret, really. So she could look at this, because she hadn't looked at his tattoo.
She pulled in a deep breath, and slipped the paper through the noose of the string, carefully unrolled it, and spread it on her lap. It was a single sheet, plain white paper, with a few lines of writing on it. It was Rick's writing - she recognised it easily - fairly large and bold, but the script was more delicate than usual, as if he'd taken a lot of care over the writing of it. She began to read.
'I remember the first time we kissed. You could say that it's burnt into my memory. You don't really forget a kiss like that, and the situation was pretty memorable as well.
Later, when we were well away, and safe, or so we thought at the time, you sat there, fragile and pretty, with your book, and your whimsical smile, and you asked me why I kissed you. There were so many things I could have replied to that.
I could have said that it was because you looked like an angel, stood there in the prison yard, untouched by everything around you. I could have said that it was because I was going to die soon, and I wanted one beautiful, perfect memory to counter all the terrible things I've seen in my life.
I could have said, because I fell in love with you instantly.
But I didn't. My tongue failed my heart, and I told you the only thing I felt able to say - using humour to hide my feelings. And you walked away.
I'm never going to let you go again. You're mine, now, and that's where you going to stay. With me. Because you are an angel, a beautiful, perfect woman, and I fell in love with you the instant I saw you.
I kissed you because you were you.'
There the letter ended. Evy sat, silent, for a moment, staring at the writing. She half questioned if Rick had really written it, except, who could know these things, what had happened?
She wondered if she'd spoilt something, if Rick had been planning on finishing this, on giving it to her, someday. She realised why the string holding the letter was made like a noose - to remind him each time he looked at it where he first saw her.
Then, slowly, she realised that Rick hadn't been planning on giving it to her. That was why it was here, locked away. He wasn't going to give it to her, because he didn't say things like this. Maybe he never would be able to. But it was enough for her to know that even if he didn't say these things, he thought them.
Slowly, carefully, she repacked the drawer, placing everything where it had come from, then put the drawer back in its place. Then she stood up, and walked out of the study, closing the door quietly behind her. She didn't know if she'd ever tell Rick she'd read the letter, but she didn't know if it even mattered. The point was, he loved her because of who she was.