Part Three
She lead him into another large room, it's decor a traditional Egyptian style. It was lit by old oil lamps, giving the room a creepier, more tomb like feel. And she should know, she'd been in a few.
It was all for effect of course. To bring in the customers.
This room was the newest in the exhibition and not yet open to the public. She had decided to show him round regardless however, this being a private tour. Mainly because she wanted to show it off, it having being her own work. The section devoted to Egyptian artefacts may not be as large as what she was used to at the Museum of Antiquities, but here she was given much more autonomy. No one bar the overseeing professor was as qualified as she was. If this work didn't impress the Bembridge scholars then nothing would.
"And this room contains our collection of artefacts from the time of Pharaoh Seti the First", she began with enthusiasm, "He was one of the great rulers of the Ancient Era, said to be the richest Pharaoh of them all. Many of the treasures in this room were excavated from the upper ruins of Hamunuptra, the infamous City of The Dead. Although some of the site has been explored, much still remains undiscovered. I have heard that-".
"Miss Carnahan", the gentleman interrupted, "I believe that you yourself have been to Hamunuptra. Before it became buried".
Evelyn looked at him, a little alarmed, a little suspicious. She had been working at the University museum for a month now and she had met some unusual and rather eccentric characters, but nothing like this gentleman.
Mr Stephen Carver was tall and slim, greying slightly, but with a suave elegance. He carried a walking cane, but this seemed more for effect than any actual aliment, for she'd never seen his use it other than to poke at things and twirl it around out of what was probably habit. He was a charming and intelligent man, who spoke to her as though he respected her and her knowledge. He was dressed very well, the perfect appearance of a wealthy benefactor. Indeed, the museum itself had seen some of that wealth in the form of a large donation that he had made, prompting the board to invite him for a private tour.
He seemed the perfect gentleman.
But there was something about him that Evelyn didn't trust. That she was wary of. Her suspicions were entirely unfounded, of course, but a gut reaction was for some reason warning her to be on her guard. Which was why she was hesitant in answering his question. Hamunaptra was essentially a place of evil and evil deeds. Suspicious gentleman asking her seemingly innocent question about the place made her cautious.
She nodded uncertainly, "I was at the city, yes, Mr Carver".
He bobbed his head absently as he wandered along, looking in the glass cases, "Any particular reason why you were there?"
She smiled pleasantly, her fears erased by the pleasure of talking on a subject that she felt a great affection for.
"Well, it was a site of great interest", said began with her accustomed enthusiasm, "Nobody had been there for thousands of years. It was my opportunity to get some experience in the field. To further my career".
"You weren't treasure seeking then?" he asked with a casual wave of his hand.
"No!" she said, offended by the notion that he would think such a thing, "I am a historian Mr Carver, not...not a...a common grave robber!"
Carver smiled at her reaction. He liked the passion and conviction in this woman. It made her different from the ladies he usual conversed with in London society. It made her worth talking to.
"I didn't think you were, Miss Carnahan. I was simply trying to imply that I heard you went there in search of the Book of Amun-Ra".
Again she was a little startled by his knowledge, but this was over ridden by her shame at her outburst.
"Well....yes I was", she said quietly, before hurriedly adding, "But it wasn't because of its monetary value, I assure you. It's what you might call my life's pursuit. It's what got me interested in Egyptology in the-".
"Yes, a fascinating story, isn't it?" he interrupted, peering critically at an elaborate golden motif through glasses that perched precariously on the end of his nose. He took a few moments to study it careful before standing up straight to address her.
"Tell me, Miss Carnahan, did you find the book?"
She held his gaze for a moment, trying to decide what to tell him. She wouldn't mention anything about the curse and Imhotep of course. After their adventure she had learned very quickly that that was a story best kept amongst themselves if she wanted to avoid strange looks and whispers about her mental health.
She inwardly shrugged, deciding she had no reason to think him untrustworthy, "I had it for a short time, yes, but it was lost when the city....".
She paused, uncertain how to word things. No words seemed to be able to justice to the actual experience of running for her life as the city was pulled down from underneath them, threatening to swallow them with it.
"Submerged?" he offered.
Inadequate, of course, but she conceded to let him see it how he wanted to.
"For want of a better word, yes".
He peered back down into the case, "I think it's highly appropriate. It implies that perhaps the city is not lost after all", he looked up at her and smiled amiably, "And your book".
She smiled back, "At least I found it". And, after all was said and done, that had been the greatest trophy of all from her time at Hamunaptra. For a short time that accolade had gone to gaining the love of a certain American, but, like most things in her life that weren't thousands of years old, that had turned out to be a disappointment.
"Yes, you have that satisfaction", he said, bringing her swiftly back from the sands of the desert and rooting her attention onto her guest. He looked as though he was about to say something else when his gaze settled on a point behind her, and his eyes lit up.
"But I see you claimed the second prize".
She whirled round as he straightened up and headed over to the object of interest. She came beside him as he almost reverently laid his hands on the case containing the black Book of The Dead.
"Amazing", he breathed, "I always wondered if it really existed", he looked at her, "Almost a more worthy prize, I would say".
She nodded, "Perhaps".
Truth be known, she hated having the book here. The treasures and artefacts reminded her of all what was good about the city. The history. What it told them about the ancient civilisation that had been there. The book, on the other hand, represented the bad. She had always known that while the Egyptians were far more civilised than their contemporaries, they could be just as brutal. The idea of being mummified alive filled her with more dread than anything. It was the substance of her worst childhood nightmares, the ones that would leave her crying and running into Jonathan's room for comfort. Remembering those nightmares made her understand why Imhotep had been far from pleased when he had awoken. It must have been a horrifying experience. The Book of The Dead, not withstanding the fact that it had awoken the priest and had supplied her with undoubtedly the most terrifying moments of her life, was a symbol of suffering and pain which Evelyn preferred not to be reminded of.
The fact that it had got here also puzzled her. Apparently the excavators had spoken of seeing groups of dark robed men on horseback in the vicinity of the city, but they had never come into direct contact with them. It seemed that as long as there was no actual danger of the city being raised, the Med-Jai were content to allow a little exploration to take place. For a race who had spent millennia killing first and damning the questions, they had learnt tolerance rather well. Evelyn attributed this to Ardeth Bay. While undoubtedly a fanatic who would die for his cause, the man did seem to be blessed with more of a human influence than most of his kind. They could have killed them all when they attacked their camp, but had given them a chance to leave with their lives. And then, he had gone on what really should have been a suicidal diversion mission, giving Rick and Jonathan a chance to escape and save her. Although Jonathan said he rather thought that killing the creature was on the top of the warrior's list of importance at the time, with Evelyn's life coming as a distinct after thought.
Despite their new found forbearance however, she was surprised that they had allowed the Book of The Dead to be removed from the relative safety of their watchful gaze. She supposed though that with the curse more or less disbanded and Imhotep properly dead, the book no longer posed a threat. There was no reason for them to prevent it leaving.
She was also equally surprised that the book had been found at all. Surely it was in the cemetery right at the heart of the buried city, where Imhotep had been defeated. How it could possible have got so close to the surface was a mystery to her. Jonathan attributed it to the shifting of the sands and such like, but Evelyn was far more wary.
Carver, she saw, was just as fascinated by the book as she had first been. He looked at it almost longing, pressing his nose to the glass.
"It's beautiful", he whispered, before pausing a moment and then lowered his voice conspiratorially, "You don't think I might be able to look at it close up, do you?"
He saw the immediate hesitation in her whole body. "Oh. Oh, I don't know", she said, shaking her head, "You see, Professor Newman would-".
"Please?" he asked, "You don't know how much it would mean to me. You might call it my life's pursuit".
Evelyn must have felt some empathy with the man, knowing what it had meant to her to have had the Book of Amun-Ra in her hands for just a few moments. It meant she had succeeded. And what harm could come from him simply having a little look?
Immediately she was reminded of her own fateful words just before she unwittingly released the creature - 'No harm ever came from reading a book'. Dismissing the parallel as mere coincidence and nonsense, she was annoying taken back to yet more ominous words on her account - the strongly stated fact that she didn't believe in 'fairy-tales and hokum'. She had been wrong then, why not now? Sighing at the woeful realisation that nothing was quite so simple in her life anymore, she stubbornly pushed all her doubts aside. She refused to be ruled by paranoia.
Fishing out the keys from around her neck she undid the latch on the case and opened it, struggling slightly to remove the heavy glass, but turning down his offer of help. She reached inside and carefully took the book out as though she was almost afraid of it. Not that she didn't have reason to be. He reverently took it and slowly opened the pages.
"It's wonderful", he breathed after a moment, a childlike joy on his face that made her instantly know she had done the right thing. He nodded, obviously pleased at what he saw, "I can barely believe it. The Book of the Dead". He took it into a more well lit area so he could have a better look.
"A living legend", he whispered in awe, "And an interesting read I expect". She nodded in agreement and he pointed to some of the symbols, "See here where it says-".
"No!" she cried, slamming the heavy page quickly over, catching his fingers and making him drop it. He cursed and Evelyn gasped as she collected the book off of the floor, brushing it off carefully and checking it for breaks or scratches. She did not want to be responsible for injuring one of the most important artefacts in Egyptian history. That would not look good on her next application to the Bembridge scholars.
Fortunately, the book appeared to be none the worse for its little accident. "Oh, thank goodness", she whispered.
"It's okay, Mr Carver, the book is-".
She turned to see the man grabbing and swinging his fingers in pain. "Oh", she said, guiltily, "Oh, I am sorry, Mr Carver, are you all right?"
"Perfectly fine", he grimaced through gritted teeth, "Is there a problem, Miss Carnahan?"
"Well, you must have heard the stories. You mustn't read aloud from the book".
Carver looked at her, amused, the pain seemingly forgotten, "Miss Carnahan, you don't believe in all that ancient curses nonsense, do you? I mean, I know it is written that the book can raise the dead", he punctuated this with a flippant toss of his hand, "But it cannot possibly be true. It's a completely ridiculous notion".
She nodded solemnly, "Still, best not to risk it, don't you think? There were some very powerful curses used in that time".
"They are only words, my dear, only words".
Evelyn shook her head. 'If only he had seen what happened the last time somebody said that', she thought, checking the book once again.
"Please?" he implored, holding out his hands, "I promise I won't read it".
She detected a patronising tone in his voice and suddenly she felt terribly embarrassed about what she had said. Well respected historians took no note of ancient curses and myths. They were stories, not facts. Being a woman, it was hard enough as it was to get any kind of recognition. If she carried on acting like this she'd never be taken seriously. And she'd never be able to follow in the footsteps of her father and mother and become a great explorer, the thing she wanted most in life.
She was about to hand the book over when footsteps were heard coming down the corridor. She squealed quietly, "The professor!"
Bustling past Carver without apologising for barging him, she placed the book hurriedly back on its stand and put the heavy case over the top. She pulled out her key chain and went to lock it, before realising the case was on the wrong way round. The latch was at the back. She panicked and tried to get the key round the back of the case, but it was too close to the wall. With the footsteps were getting closer and it being too late for her to lift the case and turn it round again, there was only one thing to do.
"Excuse me", she said to Carver, who was looking at her in a bemused fashion, hurrying him back with her hand. Once he had moved, she sat down and manoeuvred herself backwards, under the case. Lying on the floor, half strangling herself with the chain, she finally managed to get it locked, the moment the footsteps entered the room.
"Er...excuse me, sorry to bother you", she heard a voice say, as she lay there, wondering how she was going to explain what she was doing, "But I'm looking for my sister, Evelyn. You wouldn't happen to have seen-....oh, right, there she is. Evie, darling, what are you doing?"
"Jonathan", she whispered, letting out a breath that was half relief and half exasperation. Her brother did have an annoying habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
She tried to wriggle her way back out again, but only got half way before she found her dress snagged on the corner of the stand.
"Oh. Oh dear. Er....excuse me", she said, a little sheepishly, not wanting to flash her knickers at everyone, "Jonathan? Could you give me a hand, please? I'm a little stuck".
She heard movement as somebody bent down, and saw a glimpse of a hand as it unsnagged her dress. Then two hands grabbed her and helped to pull her out. She stood up, a dishevelled mess, almost tripping over her own two feet. The hands steadied her, preventing her from stumbling to the floor.
"Thank you, Jonathan", she said, sweeping the hair that had tumbled out of her bun away from her eyes, "I really-".
That was when she saw who her rescuer was. Handsome, tanned features, well built, deep blue eyes. Perfect smile.
"O'Connell", she said, part breathless pleasure, part shock and part annoyed.
"Evelyn", he countered, just as uncertain.
There was a moment between them that anyone could read.
Then she realised with some embarrassment that he was still holding her hands. She retrieved them and turned away, straightening herself up.
Jonathan patted Carver on the shoulders, "Mr O'Connell here is a friend of mine and Evie's from Cairo. He only got in today, so if you wouldn't mind I could show you around the rest of the place. I'm sure they have plenty to catch up on".
Evelyn was about to protest when Carver held up a hand, "Don't worry. I'll be fine with your brother. You talk to your friend".
The word 'friend' had enough emphasis on it so that all knew what he was implying about their relationship.
"Thank you for the tour, Miss Carnahan. It was an absolute pleasure. I look forward to seeing you again". He tapped Jonathan with his stick, who looked slightly annoyed by the gesture, "Come along then, young fellow, I have a dinner engagement at six".
Jonathan motioned for him to lead on and as they headed out the door, he smiled at Evelyn. She scowled back, and Jonathan visibly shrunk as he left the room.
Evelyn and O'Connell stood there, looking at each other uncertainly for a few moments. From the look on her face he could tell that a) Jonathan had not told her he was coming, and b) this probably wasn't going to be the most pleasant of conversations they'd ever had.
The realisation of this made him panic just slightly and, desperate for something to say, O'Connell motioned at the case. "The Book of The Dead, eh? I see they found it again".
She moved over to it, away from him, and straightened up the display once more.
"Yes, it was one of the few things they found when they tried to unbury the city". There was an unmistakable tenseness in her voice.
"Did they manage to dig the old place up, in the end?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light, trying to get her side-tracked into her interests so she'd forget her anger.
"No", she said flatly.
When nothing else was forthcoming and that line of conversation was lost, he glanced around the room, his gaze resting on something vaguely familiar.
"See they got some of the treasure back too".
She snorted a laugh, "Yes, well trust you to notice that. You always were far too interested in the money to see the true value of these pieces. A point you made clear on numerous occasions, if I remember correctly".
"Hey", he said, springing to his own defence, "I never said-".
"You didn't have to say anything, it was the way you acted".
He controlled his reply with realisation that getting into an argument with her wouldn't be the best move in the world. He started to walk around, releasing some of his nervous tension, looking at the displays to keep himself from looking at her.
"Nice place you have here", he said eventually.
"Came here to sight-see, did you?" she asked, turning on him, her voice and gaze icy.
"I came here to see you", he replied instantly, with an honesty that surprised even himself.
She was also a little taken back by this he could tell, as her icy persona instantly melted a little. The annoyance smoothed from her kitten-soft features, and they almost returned to their calm normal.
"Why don't we go into the office?" she suggested, "I wouldn't feel comfortable talking here".
She lead him into another large room, it's decor a traditional Egyptian style. It was lit by old oil lamps, giving the room a creepier, more tomb like feel. And she should know, she'd been in a few.
It was all for effect of course. To bring in the customers.
This room was the newest in the exhibition and not yet open to the public. She had decided to show him round regardless however, this being a private tour. Mainly because she wanted to show it off, it having being her own work. The section devoted to Egyptian artefacts may not be as large as what she was used to at the Museum of Antiquities, but here she was given much more autonomy. No one bar the overseeing professor was as qualified as she was. If this work didn't impress the Bembridge scholars then nothing would.
"And this room contains our collection of artefacts from the time of Pharaoh Seti the First", she began with enthusiasm, "He was one of the great rulers of the Ancient Era, said to be the richest Pharaoh of them all. Many of the treasures in this room were excavated from the upper ruins of Hamunuptra, the infamous City of The Dead. Although some of the site has been explored, much still remains undiscovered. I have heard that-".
"Miss Carnahan", the gentleman interrupted, "I believe that you yourself have been to Hamunuptra. Before it became buried".
Evelyn looked at him, a little alarmed, a little suspicious. She had been working at the University museum for a month now and she had met some unusual and rather eccentric characters, but nothing like this gentleman.
Mr Stephen Carver was tall and slim, greying slightly, but with a suave elegance. He carried a walking cane, but this seemed more for effect than any actual aliment, for she'd never seen his use it other than to poke at things and twirl it around out of what was probably habit. He was a charming and intelligent man, who spoke to her as though he respected her and her knowledge. He was dressed very well, the perfect appearance of a wealthy benefactor. Indeed, the museum itself had seen some of that wealth in the form of a large donation that he had made, prompting the board to invite him for a private tour.
He seemed the perfect gentleman.
But there was something about him that Evelyn didn't trust. That she was wary of. Her suspicions were entirely unfounded, of course, but a gut reaction was for some reason warning her to be on her guard. Which was why she was hesitant in answering his question. Hamunaptra was essentially a place of evil and evil deeds. Suspicious gentleman asking her seemingly innocent question about the place made her cautious.
She nodded uncertainly, "I was at the city, yes, Mr Carver".
He bobbed his head absently as he wandered along, looking in the glass cases, "Any particular reason why you were there?"
She smiled pleasantly, her fears erased by the pleasure of talking on a subject that she felt a great affection for.
"Well, it was a site of great interest", said began with her accustomed enthusiasm, "Nobody had been there for thousands of years. It was my opportunity to get some experience in the field. To further my career".
"You weren't treasure seeking then?" he asked with a casual wave of his hand.
"No!" she said, offended by the notion that he would think such a thing, "I am a historian Mr Carver, not...not a...a common grave robber!"
Carver smiled at her reaction. He liked the passion and conviction in this woman. It made her different from the ladies he usual conversed with in London society. It made her worth talking to.
"I didn't think you were, Miss Carnahan. I was simply trying to imply that I heard you went there in search of the Book of Amun-Ra".
Again she was a little startled by his knowledge, but this was over ridden by her shame at her outburst.
"Well....yes I was", she said quietly, before hurriedly adding, "But it wasn't because of its monetary value, I assure you. It's what you might call my life's pursuit. It's what got me interested in Egyptology in the-".
"Yes, a fascinating story, isn't it?" he interrupted, peering critically at an elaborate golden motif through glasses that perched precariously on the end of his nose. He took a few moments to study it careful before standing up straight to address her.
"Tell me, Miss Carnahan, did you find the book?"
She held his gaze for a moment, trying to decide what to tell him. She wouldn't mention anything about the curse and Imhotep of course. After their adventure she had learned very quickly that that was a story best kept amongst themselves if she wanted to avoid strange looks and whispers about her mental health.
She inwardly shrugged, deciding she had no reason to think him untrustworthy, "I had it for a short time, yes, but it was lost when the city....".
She paused, uncertain how to word things. No words seemed to be able to justice to the actual experience of running for her life as the city was pulled down from underneath them, threatening to swallow them with it.
"Submerged?" he offered.
Inadequate, of course, but she conceded to let him see it how he wanted to.
"For want of a better word, yes".
He peered back down into the case, "I think it's highly appropriate. It implies that perhaps the city is not lost after all", he looked up at her and smiled amiably, "And your book".
She smiled back, "At least I found it". And, after all was said and done, that had been the greatest trophy of all from her time at Hamunaptra. For a short time that accolade had gone to gaining the love of a certain American, but, like most things in her life that weren't thousands of years old, that had turned out to be a disappointment.
"Yes, you have that satisfaction", he said, bringing her swiftly back from the sands of the desert and rooting her attention onto her guest. He looked as though he was about to say something else when his gaze settled on a point behind her, and his eyes lit up.
"But I see you claimed the second prize".
She whirled round as he straightened up and headed over to the object of interest. She came beside him as he almost reverently laid his hands on the case containing the black Book of The Dead.
"Amazing", he breathed, "I always wondered if it really existed", he looked at her, "Almost a more worthy prize, I would say".
She nodded, "Perhaps".
Truth be known, she hated having the book here. The treasures and artefacts reminded her of all what was good about the city. The history. What it told them about the ancient civilisation that had been there. The book, on the other hand, represented the bad. She had always known that while the Egyptians were far more civilised than their contemporaries, they could be just as brutal. The idea of being mummified alive filled her with more dread than anything. It was the substance of her worst childhood nightmares, the ones that would leave her crying and running into Jonathan's room for comfort. Remembering those nightmares made her understand why Imhotep had been far from pleased when he had awoken. It must have been a horrifying experience. The Book of The Dead, not withstanding the fact that it had awoken the priest and had supplied her with undoubtedly the most terrifying moments of her life, was a symbol of suffering and pain which Evelyn preferred not to be reminded of.
The fact that it had got here also puzzled her. Apparently the excavators had spoken of seeing groups of dark robed men on horseback in the vicinity of the city, but they had never come into direct contact with them. It seemed that as long as there was no actual danger of the city being raised, the Med-Jai were content to allow a little exploration to take place. For a race who had spent millennia killing first and damning the questions, they had learnt tolerance rather well. Evelyn attributed this to Ardeth Bay. While undoubtedly a fanatic who would die for his cause, the man did seem to be blessed with more of a human influence than most of his kind. They could have killed them all when they attacked their camp, but had given them a chance to leave with their lives. And then, he had gone on what really should have been a suicidal diversion mission, giving Rick and Jonathan a chance to escape and save her. Although Jonathan said he rather thought that killing the creature was on the top of the warrior's list of importance at the time, with Evelyn's life coming as a distinct after thought.
Despite their new found forbearance however, she was surprised that they had allowed the Book of The Dead to be removed from the relative safety of their watchful gaze. She supposed though that with the curse more or less disbanded and Imhotep properly dead, the book no longer posed a threat. There was no reason for them to prevent it leaving.
She was also equally surprised that the book had been found at all. Surely it was in the cemetery right at the heart of the buried city, where Imhotep had been defeated. How it could possible have got so close to the surface was a mystery to her. Jonathan attributed it to the shifting of the sands and such like, but Evelyn was far more wary.
Carver, she saw, was just as fascinated by the book as she had first been. He looked at it almost longing, pressing his nose to the glass.
"It's beautiful", he whispered, before pausing a moment and then lowered his voice conspiratorially, "You don't think I might be able to look at it close up, do you?"
He saw the immediate hesitation in her whole body. "Oh. Oh, I don't know", she said, shaking her head, "You see, Professor Newman would-".
"Please?" he asked, "You don't know how much it would mean to me. You might call it my life's pursuit".
Evelyn must have felt some empathy with the man, knowing what it had meant to her to have had the Book of Amun-Ra in her hands for just a few moments. It meant she had succeeded. And what harm could come from him simply having a little look?
Immediately she was reminded of her own fateful words just before she unwittingly released the creature - 'No harm ever came from reading a book'. Dismissing the parallel as mere coincidence and nonsense, she was annoying taken back to yet more ominous words on her account - the strongly stated fact that she didn't believe in 'fairy-tales and hokum'. She had been wrong then, why not now? Sighing at the woeful realisation that nothing was quite so simple in her life anymore, she stubbornly pushed all her doubts aside. She refused to be ruled by paranoia.
Fishing out the keys from around her neck she undid the latch on the case and opened it, struggling slightly to remove the heavy glass, but turning down his offer of help. She reached inside and carefully took the book out as though she was almost afraid of it. Not that she didn't have reason to be. He reverently took it and slowly opened the pages.
"It's wonderful", he breathed after a moment, a childlike joy on his face that made her instantly know she had done the right thing. He nodded, obviously pleased at what he saw, "I can barely believe it. The Book of the Dead". He took it into a more well lit area so he could have a better look.
"A living legend", he whispered in awe, "And an interesting read I expect". She nodded in agreement and he pointed to some of the symbols, "See here where it says-".
"No!" she cried, slamming the heavy page quickly over, catching his fingers and making him drop it. He cursed and Evelyn gasped as she collected the book off of the floor, brushing it off carefully and checking it for breaks or scratches. She did not want to be responsible for injuring one of the most important artefacts in Egyptian history. That would not look good on her next application to the Bembridge scholars.
Fortunately, the book appeared to be none the worse for its little accident. "Oh, thank goodness", she whispered.
"It's okay, Mr Carver, the book is-".
She turned to see the man grabbing and swinging his fingers in pain. "Oh", she said, guiltily, "Oh, I am sorry, Mr Carver, are you all right?"
"Perfectly fine", he grimaced through gritted teeth, "Is there a problem, Miss Carnahan?"
"Well, you must have heard the stories. You mustn't read aloud from the book".
Carver looked at her, amused, the pain seemingly forgotten, "Miss Carnahan, you don't believe in all that ancient curses nonsense, do you? I mean, I know it is written that the book can raise the dead", he punctuated this with a flippant toss of his hand, "But it cannot possibly be true. It's a completely ridiculous notion".
She nodded solemnly, "Still, best not to risk it, don't you think? There were some very powerful curses used in that time".
"They are only words, my dear, only words".
Evelyn shook her head. 'If only he had seen what happened the last time somebody said that', she thought, checking the book once again.
"Please?" he implored, holding out his hands, "I promise I won't read it".
She detected a patronising tone in his voice and suddenly she felt terribly embarrassed about what she had said. Well respected historians took no note of ancient curses and myths. They were stories, not facts. Being a woman, it was hard enough as it was to get any kind of recognition. If she carried on acting like this she'd never be taken seriously. And she'd never be able to follow in the footsteps of her father and mother and become a great explorer, the thing she wanted most in life.
She was about to hand the book over when footsteps were heard coming down the corridor. She squealed quietly, "The professor!"
Bustling past Carver without apologising for barging him, she placed the book hurriedly back on its stand and put the heavy case over the top. She pulled out her key chain and went to lock it, before realising the case was on the wrong way round. The latch was at the back. She panicked and tried to get the key round the back of the case, but it was too close to the wall. With the footsteps were getting closer and it being too late for her to lift the case and turn it round again, there was only one thing to do.
"Excuse me", she said to Carver, who was looking at her in a bemused fashion, hurrying him back with her hand. Once he had moved, she sat down and manoeuvred herself backwards, under the case. Lying on the floor, half strangling herself with the chain, she finally managed to get it locked, the moment the footsteps entered the room.
"Er...excuse me, sorry to bother you", she heard a voice say, as she lay there, wondering how she was going to explain what she was doing, "But I'm looking for my sister, Evelyn. You wouldn't happen to have seen-....oh, right, there she is. Evie, darling, what are you doing?"
"Jonathan", she whispered, letting out a breath that was half relief and half exasperation. Her brother did have an annoying habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
She tried to wriggle her way back out again, but only got half way before she found her dress snagged on the corner of the stand.
"Oh. Oh dear. Er....excuse me", she said, a little sheepishly, not wanting to flash her knickers at everyone, "Jonathan? Could you give me a hand, please? I'm a little stuck".
She heard movement as somebody bent down, and saw a glimpse of a hand as it unsnagged her dress. Then two hands grabbed her and helped to pull her out. She stood up, a dishevelled mess, almost tripping over her own two feet. The hands steadied her, preventing her from stumbling to the floor.
"Thank you, Jonathan", she said, sweeping the hair that had tumbled out of her bun away from her eyes, "I really-".
That was when she saw who her rescuer was. Handsome, tanned features, well built, deep blue eyes. Perfect smile.
"O'Connell", she said, part breathless pleasure, part shock and part annoyed.
"Evelyn", he countered, just as uncertain.
There was a moment between them that anyone could read.
Then she realised with some embarrassment that he was still holding her hands. She retrieved them and turned away, straightening herself up.
Jonathan patted Carver on the shoulders, "Mr O'Connell here is a friend of mine and Evie's from Cairo. He only got in today, so if you wouldn't mind I could show you around the rest of the place. I'm sure they have plenty to catch up on".
Evelyn was about to protest when Carver held up a hand, "Don't worry. I'll be fine with your brother. You talk to your friend".
The word 'friend' had enough emphasis on it so that all knew what he was implying about their relationship.
"Thank you for the tour, Miss Carnahan. It was an absolute pleasure. I look forward to seeing you again". He tapped Jonathan with his stick, who looked slightly annoyed by the gesture, "Come along then, young fellow, I have a dinner engagement at six".
Jonathan motioned for him to lead on and as they headed out the door, he smiled at Evelyn. She scowled back, and Jonathan visibly shrunk as he left the room.
Evelyn and O'Connell stood there, looking at each other uncertainly for a few moments. From the look on her face he could tell that a) Jonathan had not told her he was coming, and b) this probably wasn't going to be the most pleasant of conversations they'd ever had.
The realisation of this made him panic just slightly and, desperate for something to say, O'Connell motioned at the case. "The Book of The Dead, eh? I see they found it again".
She moved over to it, away from him, and straightened up the display once more.
"Yes, it was one of the few things they found when they tried to unbury the city". There was an unmistakable tenseness in her voice.
"Did they manage to dig the old place up, in the end?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light, trying to get her side-tracked into her interests so she'd forget her anger.
"No", she said flatly.
When nothing else was forthcoming and that line of conversation was lost, he glanced around the room, his gaze resting on something vaguely familiar.
"See they got some of the treasure back too".
She snorted a laugh, "Yes, well trust you to notice that. You always were far too interested in the money to see the true value of these pieces. A point you made clear on numerous occasions, if I remember correctly".
"Hey", he said, springing to his own defence, "I never said-".
"You didn't have to say anything, it was the way you acted".
He controlled his reply with realisation that getting into an argument with her wouldn't be the best move in the world. He started to walk around, releasing some of his nervous tension, looking at the displays to keep himself from looking at her.
"Nice place you have here", he said eventually.
"Came here to sight-see, did you?" she asked, turning on him, her voice and gaze icy.
"I came here to see you", he replied instantly, with an honesty that surprised even himself.
She was also a little taken back by this he could tell, as her icy persona instantly melted a little. The annoyance smoothed from her kitten-soft features, and they almost returned to their calm normal.
"Why don't we go into the office?" she suggested, "I wouldn't feel comfortable talking here".