The Sycamore Song
It was in one of these cloudy intervals that Victoria discovered that if she were to watch the family at the table next door, she could also keep an eye on Tariq opposite her without appearing to stare at him. She found she liked looking at him. If she had had the gift, she would have liked to have fashioned his face in stone, for it was an interesting face by any standards, and it would have appealed to anyone’s artistic senses, so she allowed herself to indulge the pleasure she obtained from his strong eyebrows, his too big nose that destroyed any pretensions he might have had to classical beauty, and the mobile, rather cruel mouth that lent a touch of stern disinterest to the whole.
When he stood up, she started, aware that the silence had been too long and that he might have asked her something and that she hadn’t heard a word. But it was not herself he was looking at, but at someone else who was approaching from behind her. Victoria turned also and saw that the newcomer was a youngish woman, small in stature, smart rather than pretty, and with a pair of large, dark eyes that she used to very good effect in greeting Tariq.
“So, Tariq, you are pleased to see me, non?” Her French accent gave a charming lilt to her voice that was otherwise rather harsh and quite unlike the soft, feminine curves of her body. “Didn’t you expect me?”
“Sooner or later,” he answered. “I thought you might have been too busy at Sakkara to have had the time to come to Cairo.”
“When I knew Miss Lyle was here?” The French girl threw back her head and laughed softly. “Naturally I came at once, as soon as I knew that her father left her in charge of our finances. I wanted to get my word in too!”
Tariq raised an eyebrow in Victoria’s direction. “Miss Lyle won’t be challenging your position on the site. She doesn’t know a thing about Egyptology and doesn’t pretend to.”
“I see.” The French girl expelled her breath thoughtfully, turning her attention to Victoria. “I presume this one is Miss Lyle? She is not much like her father to look at.” She twisted her lips into a wry smile. “Me, I loved your father! He was a great man.”
Victoria looked grave. “I didn’t know him very well,” she admitted.
“What chance did you have?” The Frenchwoman shrugged. “His marriage was unsuitable and he stayed away from England because of it. There were more - compensations abroad, you understand? I am Juliette Mercer, your late father’s assistant. Welcome to Egypt!”
“Thank you,” said Victoria.
“I hoped to see you by yourself,” Juliette went on breathlessly. “I wanted to be sure that you understood the situation at Sakkara before you arrived there. It is - complicated, you understand?”
Victoria leaned back in her chair. “I’m afraid we’ve finished lunch, Miss Mercer,” she said, “but you’d be very welcome to have coffee with us?”
“Mrs. Mercer,” Juliette corrected her quickly. “Does Tariq stay for coffee?”
“I do,” Tariq answered her, without even looking at Victoria.
“But—”Juliette began to protest.
Victoria blushed faintly, knowing that she was about to tell what amounted to little less than an outright lie. “Tariq is lunching with me at my direct invitation,” she said gently.
Tariq’s eyes turned on her. They were less like a cat’s than those of a bird of prey, she thought uneasily. “Is that how it was?” he mocked her.
Victoria did her best to ignore him. “What did you want to tell me, Mrs. Mercer?” she prompted the French girl.
“Juliette. You had better call me Juliette. I was such good friends with your father that I am sure we will be good friends also. But it is awkward to talk frankly with you, cherie, while we have Tariq with us. He was not friends with your father. Did he tell you that?”
“He said there had been some misunderstanding between them,” Victoria admitted.
Juliette rolled her eyes heavenwards. “Is that what he called it? Tariq, mon cher, that was not well done of you. Victoria is a woman of the world, no? She would have understood.” She made a dismissive gesture, turning her wide eyes fully on to Victoria. “Your father didn’t trust Tariq, not at all!” she went on with considerable drama. “First there was the stealing - has he told you about that? - and then there was the renown. Your father was a good archaeologist in his own field and famous, whereas who had ever heard of—”
“That was not what we quarrelled about, Juliette.”
“No, no, we are knowing that. But he did think you had something to do with the stealing that was going on—”
“Although it went on after I left?”
“He was ill then, cheri. It was not mentioned to him that still more articles were disappearing. It was not considered good for him to know.” Her eyes narrowed momentarily. “Are you coming back to Sakkara?”
“Yes, he is,” Victoria broke in. “He’s going to help me run things - as the government’s representative, of course.”
Juliette looked concerned. “If you wish him to know all about your affairs that is your business,” she acknowledged, “but it is not a good thing for the Egyptian government to know too much of what the expedition is costing you. There will be enough fuss over making the permit over to you as it is. That is one of the things I wished to speak to you about. It may be better to take out the permit in my name, what do you think?”
Victoria looked despairingly at Tariq, but he was no help at all, only looking back at her, his tawny eyes only mildly interested.
“I shall take advice,” Victoria said finally.
“Good,” Juliette commended her. “And I shall stay for coffee after all. I like it black and very hot, if you please. What do you do with yourself after lunch?”
“I want to see the Pyramids,” Victoria volunteered, glancing over at the huge geometrically-shaped monuments that towered over the hotel.
“It is good to see them while you are here. You will learn much,” Juliette agreed. “But they are not the same period as the tomb of Kha-sekhem. He was Second Dynasty, in the Archaic Period. The Pyramids belong to the Old Kingdom.”
Victoria struggled to put an intelligent expression on her face. The name Kha-sekhem rang a faint bell in her memory. Had he been the occupant of the tomb her father had been excavating?
“Kha-sekhem’s tomb was unknown until George found it last summer,” Juliette went on. “We knew about Kha-sekhem himself, of course, because his statues and steles had been found in Hierakonpolis.”
“I see,” said Victoria. “Was he somebody important?”
Tariq made an expressive gesture with his hands, but it was Juliette’s yelp of dismay that claimed Victoria’s attention. “Is it possible that you know nothing of your father’s work? Nothing at all?”
“I’ve never pretended that I did,” Victoria answered, nettled. “Why should I?”
Juliette stared at her, unable to believe her ears. “C’est incroyable! That it should be this one, who knows nothing, who should now control the finances of the whole expedition! It is clear that George Lyle was mad to think of such a thing! To hand us all over to an imbecile, just because she happens to be his daughter!”
“You are not being very polite,” Tariq told her dryly. “Besides, Victoria knows some things. She knew Saladin was a Kurd.”
“Oh, Saladin!” Juliette said with contempt.
“Some people find the Crusades more interesting than Ancient Egyptian Pharaohs.” Tariq’s tone was dry.
“Oh, but I don’t know anything about the Crusades either,” Victoria denied, honestly. “I just happened to have read that Saladin was a Kurd in a book about Richard Coeur-de-Lion, who was a dead bore if ever there was one. He made a wretched husband, and poor old John had to clear up the mess for him at home and has taken all the blame ever since.”
To her annoyance, Tariq burst into laughter. “So much for the propaganda of Robin Hood, the Magna Carta, and the legend of the Wicked King!” Then he stopped laughing. “Isn’t it more usual to feel sorry for Richard for being such a bad husband to only on
e woman? Why not object to Saladin for being husband to so many?”
Victoria cast him a speaking look. “At least he was a man! I daresay all his wives were a great deal happier than poor Berengaria!”
His eyes showed amusement and she was strongly reminded of the sunlight dancing on the Nile as she had seen it that morning. “Thus the eternal female mind! Poor Richard indeed!”
Juliette frowned. “Me, I have a great admiration for Richard,” she claimed. “He was renowned for his great chivalry and his romantic nature. But naturally, because he was really a Frenchman!” She waited while the waiter brought and served the coffee, then she said, “I am tired of Saladin! I have, more important things to talk about. Victoria - I may call you Victoria, I hope? - it is important that you should have some idea about what has been going on at Sakkara. Hardly any work has been done since your father’s death. There has been no money with which to pay the workers and, apart from Jim Kerr and myself, the whole team has departed. We cannot possibly finish the excavation as we are, but that is your problem. I should have left myself if I had not felt I owed it to George’s memory to try and help his daughter. But now I must know if we are to go on or not.” She sipped her coffee with a grimace. “I imagine not. Jim and I are not miracle-workers that we can do it all ourselves!”
“I shall be there,” Tariq drawled out.
Victoria felt a warm sensation of relief creep through her. If he was there then everything was bound to be all right. “And we will find more workers, surely?” she added.
“Never!” Juliette exclaimed. “You will never allow Tariq actually to work inside the tomb? Your father would never have permitted it!”
Victoria cast Tariq a quick look of dismay. “I have to make my own decisions,” she pointed out. “I may be his daughter, but I am not my father, and his quarrels are not mine. Besides, Tariq works for the Government and he has their authorisation to be on the site.”
Juliette made an irritated noise with her lips. “Is that true? How did you persuade them you were to be trusted?” She turned to Victoria, sighing lustily. “I wish I had come to you earlier. I could have warned you not to have anything to do with him for your father’s sake. If he comes back to Sakkara you will certainly regret it. It was terrible what happened between him and your father. George wouldn’t speak of it afterwards, but we all knew he had quarrelled with Tariq over the missing objects. He ordered him away from Sakkara, never to return! Me, I thought he should have sent for the police.”
“I thought so too,” Tariq said unexpectedly. “It would have been better all round if he had.” He stretched himself and yawned. “Have you finished your coffee, Juliette? If Victoria and I are to explore the Pyramids this afternoon, it’s time we were starting up the hill.” He grinned across the table at Victoria. “If you’re feeling very lazy, I may allow you to ride up on a camel!”
“Oh, I couldn’t!” She was ashamed of the vehemence and sheer fright in her voice. “They’re rather tall animals,” she amended more moderately. “I’d really much rather walk. I suffer from acrophobia - vertigo - if I get more than two feet above the ground. I’d really much rather walk.”
He put his hand over hers. “You would be quite safe with me,” he assured her.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “That isn’t the point. It isn’t reasonable to be afraid of anything so silly, but I go into a flat panic even at the thought of it. I know it’s quite safe, but it doesn’t make any difference at all.” And now he would think her a proper fool, she thought wryly.
“You should always make yourself do things you are afraid of,” Juliette advised her with all the overbearing patronage of someone who hasn’t a nerve in her body and can’t imagine why anyone else should be afflicted by something which had never disturbed her.
“I have tried,” Victoria said. “I used to force myself to climb trees, but I fell out of one and when I came out of hospital I decided I would learn to live with the fact that I do better with my feet firmly planted on Mother Earth.” A faint smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I’ve kept them there ever since.”
To her surprise, Tariq was smiling too. “And your head in the clouds? Never mind, we’ll both walk.”
Juliette stood up abruptly. “And I shall leave you. I’ll see you tomorrow in Sakkara, Victoria. You are a silly girl to bring this man with you, but if you will not be advised by me—”
“You are scarcely an unprejudiced witness,” Tariq put in. “Let Victoria make up her own mind about me.”
The French girl flushed an unpleasing red. “I should have thought you were too much of a gentleman to have reminded me of something I would sooner forget all about. I’d have you remember that I chose George—”
Tariq surveyed her calmly. “There was no choice, Juliette, nor have I ever pretended to be a gentleman.” Juliette jerked her head in Victoria’s direction. “Have you told her?”
“Not yet. George was her father, after all. Go back to Sakkara, Juliette, and mind your own business. If you want something to do, you and Jim Kerr can think about how to rescue the expedition from total disaster.”
Juliette gave him a bitter look. “Jim is a fool! He hasn’t a clue what to do next. He and Victoria will make a fine pair!”
Tariq frowned, superbly arrogant. “Victoria will do very well,” he bit out. “Tell Jim to keep out of her way. She will be better off without his advice. His job, like yours, is to finish the excavation as quickly and as well as possible. You’d both do well to remember that!”
Juliette said nothing more. She turned on her heel and marched away from them across the grass, her arms swinging wildly at her sides. She had a typically French figure, small and neat, with rather short legs that made her indignant steps funny rather than dignified as she had intended.
“What was all that about?” Victoria asked as Tariq sat down again.
His eyes flickered over her, sparing her nothing in the intent way he summed her up, assessing her with an intimacy that she resented, but met head on with a cool stare of her own.
“There is often a conflict of personalities on a dig,” he said. “When it gets mixed up with sex as well it can be pretty explosive. With Juliette, you never know which role she is playing at any particular moment, the woman or the archaeologist, and, in a closed, intimate society where women are apt to be trouble anyway, her particular brand of charm can stir things up in a way that has to be seen to be believed.”
Victoria looked away. Had he been attracted to the French girl too? It was pretty obvious that her father had more than liked her. But she didn’t like to think of Tariq flirting with Juliette and felt a sharp pang of jealousy that he might have done so often in the past.
“Men always blame women,” she murmured. “Surely they bear some of the responsibility? They should be used to women working alongside them in almost every field nowadays.”
He seemed amused at her again, and she found that she resented that too. “True, but we are not emotionally involved with most of them and don’t wish to be. It isn’t as a work colleague, for instance, that I prefer to think of you.”
“You shouldn’t make personal remarks,” she told him sharply. “I think Juliette was right about you. You’re no gentleman!”
“She wouldn’t like it if I were,” he drawled. “She likes me well enough as I am.”
“But she’s married,” she protested, and wished that she had had the sense to hold her tongue. If Tariq wanted a woman, he wouldn’t allow a mere detail like that to stand in his way. “Where is her husband?” she demanded.
He looked amused. “Her husband received his conge a long time ago. She thought about marrying your father for a while, but he was too fly a bird to get caught in her trap—”
“He couldn’t,” Victoria said. “He was still married to my mother.”
Tariq raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t she want to marry again?”
Victoria shook her head. “I don’t think so. She didn’t like being married at
all, certainly not to someone like my father. My mother can’t bear to live anywhere but in England. She likes to have the familiar world she knows about her: the shops she has always been to; the friends she made at school and has seen twice weekly ever since. And my father, of course, was quite the opposite.”
“And which parent do you take after?”
She had never given it any thought until that day, but the Virgin’s Sycamore Tree had given her the answer before she had even asked the question. She had all her father’s passion for the unknown, the incomprehensible, even the exotic. If it weren’t so, she wouldn’t have looked twice at Tariq himself, for he was all of those things.
“I haven’t been away from England long enough to tell,” she answered.
“Well, the Pyramids should help you to make up your mind,” he observed. “I’ll ask you again tonight by moonlight. I expect like most women you find it easier to talk about yourself in the dark!”
She didn’t like the sting in the tail of that remark, but she allowed herself to be hauled to her feet and even managed a small smile. “I don’t go out with strange men after dark,” she said.
“Not even with the Sphinx as chaperon?”
She was tempted. Had he known many women? she wondered. And had they all poured out their innermost thoughts to him at his bidding? The thought made her steel herself to refuse to do any such thing herself.
“Not even then,” she said.
“You’re very hard to please,” he said. “But I haven’t given up all hope of persuading you.” He put up a hand and touched her cheek, and some of the sternness left his face. “I’m not a stranger, Victoria Lyle, or I shan’t be for long. I can’t be and do my job properly. I’m going to stick as close to you as a barnacle on the side of a ship.” He tapped her chin with a light blow that warned her that he meant what he said. “Perhaps you should have been your brother after all.”