All Roads Lead To Egypt
Chapter 3
Vivien
Author's Note: Hello, and welcome to chapter 3. A big thanks to reviewers and I have decided to write this chapter from…. Jonathon's point of view! Anyway as promised Katherine Fernley puts in an appearance (Boo HISS!) Evelyn gives her lecture (Yay.) And the O'Connell's receive a rather unusual parcel. (Du du du.)
Oh and I don't own anything.
I was getting pretty bored of the whole 'checking in' business. Not only was I soaking wet and dripping all over the Regency's chintz carpet, but some pretty stern looking porters were giving me some pretty stern looks.
'Hurry up Evy!' I called as my dear younger sister returned to her soaking family, holding a set of keys and a …
'Cardboard box?' Asked Rick in surprise.
'Yes,' replied Evy vaguely 'the man on the reception desk gave it to me. Apparently somebody left it here with the instructions that it was to be given to me when we arrived.'
'Must be a present from one of your scholar friends.' Rick replied doubtfully and giving the box an almost wary look.
'Mum can we please go to the room now?' Pleaded Alex making an odd squelching sound as he walked and earning us another dark look from the porters.
'Yes, right.' Evy muttered, 'we are in rooms 102 and 103, Jonathon you are in room 104, commit them to memory.' Somehow this statement seemed to be directed directly at me. I felt rather affronted.
'What are you looking at me for, sister dearest?' I asked mock pouting.
'Well Jonathon, you are the most likely to get drunk and stagger about for a few hours because you can't remember where on Earth you are sleeping.' My burley brother-in-law replied chuckling slightly.
I scowled; I mean sure I get a bit forgetful when I'm potted, but not that forgetful, well not that often at least.
My room was exactly as I had expected, modern, well-furnished, warm bed, mini-bar. All of life's necessities, had they thrown in a deck of card and a few good looking blondes I'd have been loathed to ever leave. But still I had to confess to being curious about Evy's mysteries package so I went over to the room opposite and knocked on the door.
Rick opened it,
'Oh its you?'
'Who did you expect, the Spanish Inquisition?' I asked, stepping into the room as he stood aside to let me in. I couldn't help but notice that he carefully bolted the door behind me. Evy was bent over the writing desk, a magnifying glass in her hand and the cardboard box by her side.
'So, what's in the mystery package?' I inquired stepping to join my sister for a closer look.
Evy was bent over a rather large pile of old looking pieces of parchment. The pieces were loosely tied together by a piece of red ribbon, and the parchment was absolutely covered in miniscule writing, which was most definitely not English.
'Is that Egyptian?' I asked trying to peer in for a closer look.
'No' Evy replied brusquely in her 'go away I'm working voice'. 'Its no script I've ever seen before, it's an odd mixture of Egyptian, French, Latin, English, Anglo-Saxon and something else.'
Rick came over now.
'Evy, maybe we should just put it away and act like it never arrived.'
'Oh don't be a spoilsport Rick.' She replied, turning to give her husband a smile.
'I'm just worried it could be dangerous.'
'Well there's no chance of my ever being able to read it.' She sighed, almost sadly. Evy never did like having to admit defeat. I couldn't help but agree with Rick, maybe that was a good thing. Especially after what happened after Evy last randomly read out of an ancient book.
'Why on Earth would someone have sent it to me?' She pondered leafing through the sheets. 'There was no card or anything. Not even a note, or "return to sender" address.'
Rick looked rather worried. Well I suppose I'd be worried too if some strange person was sending my wife mysterious cardboard boxes full of unreadable pieces of parchment.
'Evelyn,' he muttered putting his arms around her, 'can't we just put it in the safe and forget about it?'
'Oh I suppose so,' She replied standing up and leaning into kiss her husband.
Honestly, I really hate the whole 'public displays of affection thing' a chap doesn't know where to put his eyes, especially when one party in question is your baby sister. It still seemed odd to me that after almost 10 years of marriage those two were still love's young dream. Whereas most of my relationships barely lasted a month, or until their husbands found out…
'Yuk' announced Alex stepping out of the bathroom fully dry and changed.
His parents broke apart.
'Right, I'll go and get changed.' Announced Evy, giving her husband a quick peck on the cheek. 'We're having lunch with the scholars.'
I groaned, lunch with a bunch of boring museum types, oh how simply spiffing.
'You don't have to come you know.' Evy snapped, searching in her suitcase for a change of clothes.
'I don't?' I asked hopefully.
'Of course not.' She replied equally snappily.
'Right, I'll stay here then.'
Alex suddenly had an idea. 'Hey mum, can I stay with Uncle John?'
'No.' chanted his parents in unison.
'Nice try partner.' I replied giving my nephew a grin, before I turned and left the room.
I spent the rest of the day getting rather bored and eating overly priced peanuts from room service. The O'Connell clan had gone off to meet various bearded dust buckets and so I was left to my own devices.
I'd always felt like a bit of an outsider since Evy's marriage, I was now the lone Carnahan. There were times when it made me feel a bit like settling down myself and finding a nice wife, living in a house by the sea and breeding lots of little Carnahans. But then I thought about the whole giving up of my carefree bachelor lifestyle; no more drinking? Wild parties? Married women? Gambling? It just wan't worth it.
Maybe in a few years, I'm not quite old yet, yes I'm still a spring chicken really.
By 8PM I was ready for a drink, so I tootled down to the hotel bar where things were actually pretty dull. The place was practically empty and nobody was dancing half-dressed on a table singing sea shanties, still it was better than nothing.
It was round about this point that I noticed a girl, sat by herself at a table in the corner. She was smartly dressed in a dark skirt and a navy blouse she was sat reading a book and her long red/gold hair was loose down her back. She wasn't my usual type; I normally went for something a bit more well…obvious. Still she didn't look prudish or frumpy, and I actually found her rather attractive. However the way she was reading reminded me rather disturbingly of Evy in her pre-Hamunaptra librarian days, she was almost glaring at the page and biting her lip slightly.
Still I walked boldly over to her table and coughed.
'Mind if I take a seat?' I asked giving her my best 'suave' smile. She looked up at me, gave me a dazzling smile, closed her book and gestured at the seat opposite her with it.
'Please do.' She had a typical "well bought up" English accent.
I took the seat.
'Bit dead in here isn't it?' I asked her gesturing at our surroundings.
'Yes, I'm convinced that old man by the bar has actually died.'
I glanced over and chuckled, said old man was sat by the bar (a whisky glass in his hand) starring into space and drooling profusely.
'Fancy a drink?' I asked, deciding to try my luck.
'Why not?' She replied, smiling again, she had a wonderful smile, like the heroines had on the covers of those sloppy romance books Evy used to deny owning.
'What, can I get you?' I asked, she raised an eyebrow.
'Why don't you surprise me?'
She was flirting, definitely flirting.
'Alright then.' I gave her a parting smile before waltzing over to the bar, it took me a while to decide what to order, obviously nothing make it look as if I was trying to get her dunk (even if I was.) In the end, I selected the classic…
'Champagne?' She asked in surprise as I deposited the bottle and a pair of glasses on the table.
'Of course', I replied, as I poured us both a glass in the most stylish manner I could manage.
'And what are we celebrating?' She asked, taking a sip from her glass and fixing a pair of large dark blue eyes on me.
Gosh, I liked this girl.
'How about a brief encounter in the lounge of the Regency hotel.' I suggested.
'I'll drink to that.' And we clinked glasses.
'Alight,' I started as I drained my glass. '5 questions.'
'On what?'
'You, I get to ask you 5 questions on absolutely anything I want.'
'Alright then.' And she flashed me that smile again. I couldn't believe my luck, one thing was for sure I wasn't going to waste my questions on boring queries such as 'What's your name.'
'One, what is your favourite hobby?'
'Well, I play the piano; I own and ride two horses. And I also play badminton, very badly.'
She poured herself another glass of champagne, grinning.
'You, same question.'
'Hey! That wasn't part of the agreement!' I argued.
'Still, it's only fair.'
'Alright then.' I sighed, deciding to tell the truth, no point in lying.
'Smoking, gambling, oh and I was "Fox and Hounds" 3 time shooting champion.'
She gave me a puzzled look, and then laughed.
'Two.'
'Do you believe in ghosts and curses and stuff?'
'Ghosts no, curses no.' She turned her gaze to me, waiting for my reply.
'Yes, on both accounts. And trust me, if you'd experienced my life you would too.'
She looked understandably surprised by my statement, but I carried on anyway.
'All right, question three. What do you look for in a prospective partner, money, looks or personality? Rank them.'
This time she paused slightly, and chewed her lip.
'Well, personality first because I would never have a stupid, arrogant, annoying or cruel other half. Then money, because facing facts I usually only attract gold diggers, and finally looks.'
She smiled at me again, this was getting strange, I wasn't normally attracted to this kind of woman, a woman who could string a couple of sensible sentences together.
'And you?' she inquired, swirling her glass slightly.
I suddenly felt rather shallow and embarrassed as I confessed, 'Well looks first I suppose, then money because I've already got enough, and finally personality, because, well, I've never had a girlfriend with one.'
She laughed. Raising an eyebrow again. 'Never?'
'To be brutally honest, yes, never, I don't think I'd know a girl with a personality unless she came up and bit me and maybe not even then. Well except for my sister of course.'
'4?' She asked, still smiling.
'Are you married or engaged?'
'No, on both counts.' She replied, 'you?'
'No, I mean I was engaged once, but then her other fiancée found out and gave me a black eye.'
She laughed again. 'And 5?'
'What's a girl like you, doing in a place like this?'
'Oh, I'm doing a lecture over the next week at the British museum.'
Suddenly the penny dropped!
'Good God, your name isn't Fernley is it?'
I was horrified, and jumped up as she nodded slowly. Suddenly I noticed the horror flood into her eyes.
'Goodness you name isn't Carnahan is it?'
I nodded.
'Oh Dear.' She murmured.
'Damn. Goodnight Miss Fernley.' I muttered coldly.
'Goodnight Mr Carnahan.' She replied avec equal chill.
I stood up and stumbled out, I glanced back as I was leaving. Fernley was sat grimacing into her hand.
Damnit, why are the best ones always married, or the daughter of your beloved father's arch-nemesis? One thing was for sure; I couldn't mention this to Evy.
The next morning I was rudely awoken by Alex banging on my door yelling:
'Wake up uncle John, we're leaving for mum's lecture in half an hour.'
I groaned, stumbled out of bed and dressed quickly, but I feared rather haphazardly. 10 minutes later I was shovelling down some kippers and toast in the breakfast parlour (no sign of Fernley thank goodness.) And 20 minutes later I had gallivanted back upstairs and was banging on the O'Connell's door.
Alex opened it.
'Oh, hiya uncle John, they're kissing again.' And sure enough Rick and Evy broke apart from yet another came of tonsil tennis. Hmm, hadn't Katherine Fernley said she enjoyed playing badminton?
'Ready?' Evy inquired smiling at me.
'Yes, all set.' I replied, brushing a few stray crumbs and creases from my jacket.
'Got your notes then?' Rick asked his wife as he bent down to straighten his son's bowtie.
'Yes,' answered Evy who was tightly clutching a large black notebook.
'And are those parchment things in the safe?'
'Yes.' Evy replied rolling her eyes and smiling at me. She had always hated being "checked up on".
'Right can we go now?' Asked Alex, rearranging his bowtie to its previous ruffled state.
'Yes.' Announced his mother, picking up her coat, bag and quickly checking her reflection and hat in the mirror.
'You look lovely,' I reassured her, 'very scholarly.' She rolled her eyes at me again, and finally we were ready to set off.
When we reached the British Museum, Evy, Rick and Alex were greeted by an old man with a dusty suit and a beard. They stood talking to him for a few minutes and once again I was left feeling like the poor Maiden Aunt or something.
'Oh, professor Dukely, this is my brother Jonathon.' Evy introduced. (Finally an introduction.)
Dukely and I exchanged smiles and handshakes.
'Oh, so you're the prodigal son.' Dukely remarked, 'Your father always spoke very highly of you two, brilliant man your father.'
Evy and I beamed, we both always liked to hear our father praised.
'Well I'll see you later.' Dukely finished. 'Mrs O'Connell, Mr O'Connell, Mr Carnahan, young Alex.'
Evy returned the farewell and we stepped into the room that the lecturers had been assigned to wait in and hold their 'meet and greet' session. We spent 20 minutes stood around, Evy occasionally talking to random people. I caught sight of Miss Fernley (wearing a very well fitting blue dress) stood talking to an ugly dust bucket who looked about 300 years old.
By this point Alex had complained that he was thirsty for about the 17th time that minute, so Rick and I took him with us as we battled our way through the crowd towards the bar. There was a very long queue and after standing in it for 15 minutes I left my nephew and brother-in-law to it and went back to find Evy.
I found her easily enough, she was stood glaring at Fernley, clenching her notebook rather too tightly, Fernley was returning the glare and the 'row' had a bunch of keen spectators. The rivalry between our two families was well known. I only caught the end of what had probably been a pretty tense discussion.
'At least my father was sane!' Evy was snapping, somewhat harshly.
'At least it didn't take me 10 years for my academic work to be published.' Fernley returned with equal harshness.
'Oh yes, with your money you could bribe just about anyone in the publishing world couldn't you!'
Fernley gave me a glare, then turned on her heels and stalked off.
'That,' Evy explained to me as I pulled her away from a rather drunk old academic who had been excitedly cheering "Cat fight, oh crikey!" 'Was Katherine Fernley.'
'I guessed.' I replied, not daring to mention our previous meeting.
'Insufferable woman.' Evy muttered, as Rick and Alex reappeared with our beverages. We said "good luck" to Evy, and then Rick, Alex and I went off in search of seats in the auditorium.
We ended up sat on the front row; in due course some old bearded historian came on stage and announced the first lecture. Some awfully dull man then appeared on stage and droned on about some wretched temple ruins for two whole hours! I must have checked my watch at least 16 times, Rick was yawning and Alex fell asleep snoring quietly. Neither Rick nor I had the heart or vindictive streak to wake him.
Eventually the man left the stage (after some polite/thank goodness he's leaving the stage applause) and a break was called. I prodded Alex awake.
'What is it Uncle John?'
'There's a break' explained Rick 'and then it's your mother's turn.'
'Oh good.' Replied Alex sleepily. 'Dad can I have another drink?'
'Yeah, let's go and find you one.' He and Alex left the room, I decided to stay where I was, I didn't particularly feel like barging my way through the flood of people leaving the auditorium. Given the dullness of the last lecture I doubted some of them would be coming back. Pity, Evy always gives a damn good lecture. I should know, she's been practicing them on me since she could talk.
20 minutes or so later Rick and Alex reappeared (along with the rest of the audience.) Once everyone was settled back in their seats the old historian came back on stage and announced 'Evelyn O'Connell lecturing on Ancient Egyptian society and literary forms.'
Rick, Alex and I burst into applause, much to the obvious amusement/annoyance of Evy (who came on stage with her ever faithful black notebook) and to the surprise of the people around us.
Evy's lecture was very good, and actually interesting, the audience seemed to enjoy it too (mind you the guy before her had hardly been a tough act to follow.) This was the first of three she was scheduled to give, and I didn't mind the prospect of sitting through two more.
After her lecture was over Evy came to join us in the auditorium, taking a spare seat next to Rick (the man who had originally been sat there had hotfooted it home after the first lecture.)
'You were great mum!' Alex congratulated her.
'Yes, it was great Evy.'
'A triumph old mum.'
'And now Katherine Fernley talking about a newly discovered Medieval language.'
Evy rolled her eyes as Katherine took to the stage (splendid in the blue dress), opened a small green notebook, placed it on the podium and began to read. I wasn't really paying much attention to what she was saying, I was too busy chanting, "Remember she's your arch-nemesis" over and over again in my head. But when I glanced at Evy, I was amazed to see she was hanging on to Katherine's every word. And when I listened more closely I realised why.
'The Eckmoor monks, were a very secretive group. However they were also very rich, as was clearly displayed in the grandeur of their monastery, which remained in splendour until the dissolution of the monasteries.
During the Eckmoor high years, the monks had many very rich patrons, in particular Sir Edward Gierson, who is best known as one of the earliest Egyptologists. During his lifetime Gierson made many trips to Egypt and he bought back many interesting, exciting and useful artefacts. After his death he bequeathed many of these to the monastery.
The Abbot of the monastery at this time was a deeply unscrupulous man, and according to his own documentation, an obsessive about Egyptian history. He stole many of the artefacts gifted by Gierson, and it is rumoured he buried them.
The Abbot even invented his own language, which using notes made by my late father I have finally managed to translate. He called the language 'Siexson' and it was using a map which Gierson had bought back to Egypt and that the Abbot had translated into Siexson that my father was able to discover the tomb of Queen Amenhotera. My father learnt the basics of Siexson translation using a series of documents, which were gifted to him by his uncle. (A descendant of the Gierson family.)
Siexson is a deeply complicated language that it would be impossible to know how the Abbot intended for it to be pronounced. The language is an odd and eclectic mixture of Anglo-Saxon, French, English, Egyptian and Latin.
However it is a known fact that amongst the treasure which the Abbot buried is the 'cursed treasure of King Amenhotera' one of the academic world's favourite myths. Whilst I do not believe the curse, I do believe that the Abbot recorded all of the details of the treasure's location in Siexson. What happened to this manuscript, I have no idea. Perhaps it was burnt on the pyres of the reformation.
However, one rumour states that a penitent monk discovered the said manuscript and sent it to Egypt, to be given to the care of a desert group, who wanted to make sure that the cursed treasure was discovered…so there is a possibility that somewhere in Egypt there is a key to the greatest Archaeological treasure to be hidden under English soil.
Thank you for listening ladies and gentlemen.'
And with that Fernley left the stage, leaving poor Evy looking completely shell shocked. Rick seemed to be in a similar state, he kept blinking, poor chap.
During the next break the three of us found a deserted room in the museum and began a whispered conversation.
'Those parchments!' Evy began, 'Exactly fit Fernley's description of Siexson, it's all there the mixture of languages, the odd eccentricity of the hand writing. Everything!'
'But, who would send it to you mum?' Asked Alex, as confused as I was.
'Someone who wanted it kept safe?' Evy suggested.
'Hang on, didn't Fernley say something about desert people?' I murmured, Rick suddenly lit up.
'The medjai, they wouldn't want another cursed mummy digging up would they!'
'Well no' Evy agreed, 'But why on Earth would they then send details of how to find the cursed treasure to me, a well known Egyptologist and in their eyes trouble maker?'
'Maybe' Rick suggested darkly, 'They are trying to get to the cursed stuff before somebody worse manages to, maybe they're hoping you can translate it for them.'
Evy snorted. 'They should have sent it to Fernley.'
I noticed that Richard O'Connell was blanching every time the word 'Fernley' was mentioned, it was all very well for me to goggle at her, but not Rick, he's married to my baby sister!
'I think we should show that stuff to Fernley, she'll be able to tell us whether or not it is Siexson and what it says.' I suggested boldly.
'Oh no!' Evy argued, 'we shouldn't let anyone else know. Especially not Fernley she's probably as bad as her father!'
'I vote, we show it to her.' Said Alex; 'Otherwise we'll just end up worrying about it forever.'
Evy sighed, there was clearly only one course of action.
'Jonathon, Alex, come with me, we'll go back to the hotel and get the parchments. Rick, try and get Fernley alone in the Egyptian office so we can talk to her. You're the only one she doesn't know as a "Carnahan".'
I was about to argue, and say I'd track Fernley down, but I didn't want to start an argument.
Thanks to the atrocious traffic, it took Evy, Alex and I over half an hour to get back to the museum (complete with parchment box, concealed in a very large and hideous handbag of Evy's.) We hurried to the Egyptian room, and Evy opened the door, the sight that met our eyes made her drop her handbag in surprise.
Rick was holding Katherine Fernley in a tight embrace!
'What's going on here?' I demanded outraged.
'Yes Rick' asked Evy, her voice was cold, but I could tell by looking at her how horrified she was. 'Explain what's going on, and your explanation had better be good.'
'Evy,' exclaimed Rick, letting go of Fernley. 'I can explain everything!'
Alex was stood with his arms crossed glaring at his father. 'Go on then.'
A/N: End of chapter 3, gosh that was long almost 13 pages! Anyway I hope it wasn't too dull, and I swear that's the end of the 'back story'. Anyway, coming in chapter 4:
Rick has to explain himself (This had better be good)
And the sender of the mysterious package arrives on the scene! (Any guesses folks?)
And the next chapter is back in Evy's point of view Yay!
