A little over a month after 'The Mummy Returns
As Evy slammed the front door behind her, Rick O'Connell winced. Who'd have thought that such a slender woman could do something with so much force? He stared at the door in irritation. He knew how this was supposed to go now - he was supposed to run out after her, and tell her that he was sorry. Well, he was sick of doing that. Every time they fought, which was now practically every day, he ended up apologising. She hadn't done so even once. Still, she'd never actually stormed out of the house before, either. She usually just went to a different room. Her bedroom, quite often, as they'd taken to sleeping in separate rooms.
He scowled, then turned and headed towards the kitchen. He wasn't going to fawn after her this time. Oh no. Rick O'Connell was sick of being the one in the wrong. This time, he'd wait for her. He filled up the kettle and began to make himself a cup of coffee. No tea for him. That was for the namby-pamby British people who couldn't stomach real, good coffee. People like Evelyn, and her brother, Jonathon.
He poured water on the coffee - no milk or sugar, he liked his drinks strong - then began to search the kitchen. Evy always hid the chocolate biscuits. That was only a very minor irritation, in the scale of things, but it still annoyed him. He finally found them, hidden behind a box of soap powder for Godsake. He swept up the packet and his drink, and stormed out of the kitchen, fuming.
He headed for a sofa in the living room. He couldn't be bothered moving around a chair stood in the middle of the room, so he tried to kick it out of the way. The chair was a lot heavier than he'd thought, and he just ended up bruising his foot. He glared at the chair, then kicked it again, harder. This time the chair flew across the room and slammed into the wall, then shattered into so much expensive firewood. "Damn" he swore viciously, then stamped over to the sofa. He slammed the coffee down on to the table next to it, hard enough that the liquid slopped over the edge, burning his hand. He bellowed another curse, then flopped to the seat, sucking his hand.
He opened the packet and began to crunch moodily. Where had everything gone wrong? He knew exactly where, and he was fairly sure he knew why. For about a week after they'd come back from Am-shere, everything had been fine. He and Evy had been even closer than usual, and Jonathon and Alex were both being good for once. Then he'd noticed that Evy was more irritable than usual, complaining about little things. He hadn't minded at first, assuming that she was still in shock after dying at Am-shere. Then she'd grown slowly more possessive - every time he went out, she'd demand all the details afterwards - where he'd gone, what he'd done, who he'd been with. It had become more and more wearing, although he'd tried to humour her for her own sake. Then he noticed that she often acted differently. Not all the time, but definitely some of the time. It was as if she was two people. That began to frighten him. He'd married Evy, not Nefertiri, or whoever she was supposed to be.
It seemed like she was worried about losing him, but what she was doing definitely wasn't helping to keep them together.
Then Alex had gone back to boarding school, and things had really begun to go downhill. Jonathon didn't come to their house anymore, because the place had become a constant battleground. And Rick was always the one who apologised afterwards.
He looked down, and realised that he'd been holding a biscuit in his hand, grinding it in his frustration and covering his hand in a mess of crumbs and melted chocolate. "Bugger" he muttered, then froze in shock. Bugger? He sounded like some kind of English fop, like Jonathon, to be precise. That whole family was nothing but a nuisance. He began to rise up to fetch a cloth, then shrugged, sank back down again and licked his hand off.
He drank his coffee, still staring moodily out of the window. Dammit. He supposed he really should have gone after her. I just want everything back to normal, he thought sadly. He did love Evy, but he couldn't even talk to her nowadays. He sighed, then wandered back into the kitchen, washing up the mug and throwing away the now empty packet. He wasn't sure what to do now.
An old piece of advice Jonathon had once offered him floated across his mind. 'When you have a problem, get drunk. You'll forget for a few hours, you'll do lots of exciting and interesting things, and then you'll wake up with a whole new set of problems which make your original ones seem unimportant.'
How long had it been since he'd been drunk? Oh yeah, a little after they'd come back from Egypt, and he'd still been trying to get used to the whole 'husband = responsibilities' bit. A couple of old acquaintances had turned up in London, and it had been Jonathon's birthday, and they'd gone on a marathon drinking session. Afterwards, Evy had been upset. Not angry, which he could have coped with, but upset. Eyes shining with unshed tears, bravely assuring him that of course she didn't mind if he disappeared for two days, and returned with her brother with all his hair shaved off in tow. Rick still didn't know why Jonathon had had all his hair shaved off, or where he'd had it done, for that matter. Still, it had all grown back, which reassured Jonathon that he wasn't going to go bald any time soon. He'd been rather happy about that.
So after that he hadn't got drunk anymore. Oh, he still drank, but he didn't get drunk. There was a definite difference. He shrugged. Evy wasn't here to complain. He marched over to the drinks cabinet, and pulled out the first bottle.
Around two a.m, Rick staggered into his study, and after a couple of false starts, managed to pull out his memory drawer. He'd put two more things in it after returning from Am-shere, the letter he'd written, and a photograph of Jonathon and Alex together. Jonathon had been 'entertaining' Alex in the garden, i.e. playing with him, while Rick and Evy had been in the house. Rick had happened to glance out of the window in time to see Alex and Jonathon drag themselves out of the pond. He didn't know how they'd fallen into it - it was big enough that you couldn't stumble into by accident. He'd grabbed his camera, and taken a picture. Alex had been laughing, and Jonathon had an expression on his face that had been a mixture of a scowl and a smile. It was a good photograph. There hadn't been anything since then worth putting in, as Alex was away, and Rick didn't want to remember the past month with Evy.
Now, he wanted to remember the good times. He focused on the box, and pulled in a surprised breath. On top of the pile was an envelope, with his name written on it. He picked it up, and he could smell the scent coming from it. Evy's scent. He didn't know what perfume she used, and asking her or finding out would spoil some of the mystery. He remembered a lesson he'd heard when he'd been much younger, around nineteen. 'Women have to have a few mysteries. Not so much to keep men interested as to reassure themselves that they are still interesting.' He smiled fondly, remembering the woman who'd taught him that.
He felt his eyes filling up with tears at the thought of Evy writing the letter to him - when had she put it there? - and groaned to himself. He was maudlin drunk. God, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been like this. He hadn't even drunk that much, had he? He pulled in a few deep breaths, and focused, trying to clear his head.
The envelope wasn't sealed, and he carefully slipped the letter out, and unfolded it. Evy's delicate script met his eyes.
'I know you can't sleep at night. I've known since we were married. Sometimes, I'd lie awake at night, my eyes closed, but knowing that you were there, watching me, keeping me safe.
When she's younger, I think that every girl dreams of a man they'll meet someday, who'll sweep them off their feet and rescue them from their life. Then one day they have to loose the dream, exchange it for reality. I had to.
Then you appeared in my life.
You made the dream become reality.
For a long time I've known that you'll be there for me. When we'd first met, and Imohtep carried me off to Hamunaptra, I knew you'd come after me, and not just because I threatened to come after you if you didn't. The truth is, I trust you. And you've shown, time and again, that I can trust you.
You say that I've changed you, but you've changed me as well. You gave me confidence, convinced me that my place in the world was whatever I wanted it to be. You taught me how to become what I wanted, and I hope that you still love what I have become as much as you loved who I was. The world changes, we change, nothing stays the same. All we can ever hope for is that we change for the better. I love you, whatever you are, and whatever you become.
I find that writing this isn't as easy as I thought. I know what I feel, and what I think, but sometimes, it's hard to put down in words. And so it astonishes me that your letters were so eloquent. Every time I think I know you, I learn something new.
I know I've said everything in this letter to you before - it's a lot easier to say it out loud - but I wanted to write them down as well. Words change, and fade in the memory, but this letter will last our lifetime.
Whatever happens, whatever we become, I want you to remember.'
Hands shaking, he folded the letter back up, and slipped it into the envelope. Then he placed it back in the drawer, and tried to stand up and lift it. But it was too heavy, and he sagged back down and his head sank onto the desk. Slowly, sleep claimed him.
He was woken by the sunlight streaming through the open window. He struggled upright, looking around for the clock. What time was it? Finally, he remembered he was wearing a watch, and looked down. It was quarter past twelve. He groaned, then pulled himself carefully upright. He picked up the drawer, smiling slightly at the sight of Evy's letter, and manoeuvred it back into the desk. Then he left the room. He stopped at the sight of all the bottles piled in the living room. He'd drunk that much? He was feeling surprisingly well in that case.
He cleaned up as best he could, then crept upstairs to Evy's room. He gently pushed open the door… to find that she wasn't there. The bed was made, or unslept in. Fine, he thought. So, she came home, then went off to work. He bounded downstairs, swinging by the kitchen to make some coffee and swallow some pain-killers, then telephoned the museum where Evy worked. He was informed that Evelyn O'Connell was not in today, and had taken the week off. He put the phone down numbly. Where was she?
After a moment's internal argument, he picked up the phone again and dialled a new number.
"I need to speak to MacDowney.
"Just tell him it's O'Connell. Do it now.
"Mac. I need a favour. I want you to find out where my wife's gone.
"No, it's not a joke.
"I think it'll cost me just about what you owe me.
"Right. I'll be waiting. Do it quickly."
He slammed the phone down, and went upstairs for a shower. Hours later, showered, shaved, dressed and frantic, he had a return telephone call.
"Yeah, yeah, of course I appreciate it. Yes, we are even now. You don't owe me a thing.
"Yes, I do realise… Oh, for Godsake, tell me where she is.
"She was seen at the airport? (He felt a terrible sinking feeling in his stomach)
"Tell me" he said slowly, "Has she gone to Egypt?"
Seconds later, he ran out of the front door.
Flames roared, people laughed and shouted and sang, and everyone was dancing. Evelyn O'Connell sat on a broken stone wall, drinking from a cup and tapping her feet aimlessly in time to the music. She'd flown to Egypt and gone hunting for Ardeth Bey on a whim, arriving in time to be brought back to the Med-jai's main camp to enjoy 'The Festival'. What the Festival was, and what the Med-jai were celebrating, Evy didn't know, and everyone was having too good a time to explain it to her. Considering the only times she'd seen the Med-jai they'd been trying to kill someone, this was very disconcerting.
"Would you like to dance?"
Evy looked up with a startled laugh into the face of Ardeth Bey.
"You dance?"
Ardeth laughed. "Usually, no. Today, yes. The Festival does not happen often."
"Umm…" Evy hesitated. This was even more disconcerting. She'd seen Ardeth looking amused occasionally, most notably after his 'first bus ride', but the humour always had an edge to it, an underlying fear born of the knowledge that somewhere the Creature was loose. Now, he just looked like he was having a good time. Sweating, smiling, and dark eyes laughing, he'd removed the over layers of Med-jai robes.
Evy smiled, and took his outstretched hand. "Why not?"
They threaded their way into the centre of the camp, where huge fires burnt and people danced to the sound of the music played by the musicians at one edge of the circle.
"I don't know this one" Evy protested, shouting over the noise. Ardeth shrugged., and laughingly swept her into the dance. Half way through he spun her briefly, and she found herself relaxing into his arms for a second. He was strong but graceful, and for a moment she allowed herself to enjoy dancing with a man. But it only lasted a moment, because Ardeth was a friend, and he wasn't Rick. She found her eyes blurring with tears, but as Ardeth began to speak in concern, she shrugged, and continued with the dance.
Afterwards, many men wanted to dance with the 'beautiful stranger', and Evy accepted each invitation. But every man dancing with her knew that they were not the man she could see in her mind.
During a brief lull she managed to slip away, and secured herself another drink. She didn't know what it was - something sweet and smooth as honey. She drained it, then sagged back against the wall. She wished she were at home, with Rick.
She looked up, and there he was, walking through the smoky night to stand before her. She gasped, dropping her cup in surprise. Cat-quick, he reached out and caught it, smoothly placing it on the wall next to her. They were so close she could feel his breath. "How?" she stammered.
He gave her a lopsided grin. "Izzy" he replied laconically.
She felt her exhilaration being swept away by remembered anger. "You shouldn't…" She broke off as he leant forwards and kissed her. Finally, they broke apart, and he gave her another sweet smile.
"I'm sorry."
"You are?" Her hands were trembling.
He laughed softly. "Evelyn, I didn't follow you all the way to Egypt to continue our argument."
"You didn't? Oh, I mean, that's good. And, I'm sorry too."
He grinned again. "That's good."
As she giggled like a young girl, Rick bowed flamboyantly and extended his hand. "Would you care to dance?"
She took his hand, and they threaded their way through the crowds. As they headed towards the circle of dancers, Rick bellowed over the noise "Why's everyone so happy? I thought the Med-jai had a sacred duty to be miserable." Evy shrugged. She didn't know, and at the moment, she didn't care.
She woke, staring around for a second at the cloth walls before remembering where she was - in a tent Ardeth had loaned her, inside the Med-jai camp. She rolled over, and saw Rick staring at a chain of flowers draped over his palm. She remembered it as one that had been twined in her hair at some point during the night. He looked over and smiled tentatively at her, and she smiled happily back.
"One for the memory box?"