‘What do you mean?’
‘You know what I mean. Somehow his soul is missing. He is a hollow man.’
‘And how old is he? And how tall?’
‘He is middle-aged. He is your height.’
I looked at her. I sensed a new thread of connection running in my brain.
‘What is his name?’
‘He has no name. I call him “the Physician.”’
‘Tell me about his voice.’
‘It is not loud, but it is not too quiet. Not young, but not old. Not gentle, but not violent, either. It is a calm voice. There is a strange kindness in it, sometimes. A kind of gentleness.’
‘What about his hair?’
‘Grey. All grey,’ she sang.
‘And his eyes?’
‘Oh, his eyes. They are grey, too, or sometimes blue, or sometimes both. They are the only beautiful thing about him,’ she said.
‘What is beautiful about them?’
‘They see things others cannot see.’
I pondered that.
‘Tell me about the messages.’
‘No, I can’t,’ she said. ‘He would be angry with me. He will not visit me again if I betray the messages.’
I glanced at Khay, who was listening with amazement.
‘And when does he come?’
‘I never know. I have to wait. It is terrible, when I haven’t seen him for days and days.’
‘You fall ill?’
She nodded, pathetically, her chin drooping.
‘And then he arrives, and leaves me his gifts, and all is well again.’
‘When he leaves you these messages, they instruct you to do things for him. Am I right?’ I asked.
She nodded, reluctantly.
‘To take things, and leave them in certain places?’
She paused, nodded again, and leaned towards me, whispering noisily.
‘He allows me to walk the corridors and on occasion the gardens when no one is present. Usually it is night. I am locked up here for days and days. I go crazy with boredom. I get desperate to see the light, to see
She looked at me, her eyes wide and innocent now.
‘Who would be angry?’
‘
‘Your family? Your husband?’
She nodded, miserably.
‘
‘Does no one else ever release you, and allow you some liberty?’
She hesitated for a moment, and glanced at me before she shook her head. So someone was taking pity on her. I thought I knew who that might be.
I watched her as she shifted nervously, her fingers endlessly unpicking an invisible tangle of thread.
‘So what is happening out in the wide world?’ she asked, as if she had suddenly remembered it was still there.
‘Nothing has changed,’ said Khay. ‘Everything remains the same.’
She looked at me.
‘I know he lies,’ she said, quietly.
‘I can’t tell you anything,’ I said.
‘I have a world in here.’ She tapped the side of her head lightly, as if it were a toy. ‘I have lived in it for a very long time now. My world is beautiful, and the children are happy, and people dance in the streets. Life is a party. No one grows old, and tears are unknown. There are flowers everywhere, and colours, and wonderful things. And love grows like fruit upon the vine.’
‘I suppose your husband is not in it, then.’
She looked up instantly, her eyes suddenly focused.
‘You have news of my husband? When did you see him?’
‘A few weeks ago, in Memphis.’
‘Memphis? What is he doing there? He has not seen me for so long. He has been away at the wars for years. That is what the Physician told me…’
She looked betrayed.
‘How does the Physician know about your husband?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know. He gives me news. He told me my husband was a great man, and I should be proud of him. He said he would soon return, and everything would be different.’
I glanced at Khay at these ominous words.
‘But I fear my husband has never loved me as I loved him, and he never will. You see: he has no heart. And perhaps he even wishes me dead, now that I have served one purpose, and failed in the other. Human beings do not matter to him.’
‘What purpose have you failed?’ I asked.
She looked at me very directly.
‘I am barren. I have given him no heir. It is the curse of our line. And to punish me, look what he has done.’
She raised her hands to her pitiful skull. ‘He has made me mad. He has locked the demons in my head. One day I will dash my brains out on the walls, and it will all be over.’
I held Mutnodjmet’s hands in my own. The sleeve of her gown lifted a little, and revealed healed scars on her wrists. She wanted me to see them.
‘I am going to leave you now. If the Physician returns, perhaps you should not mention my visit. I would not want him to withdraw his gifts.’
She nodded, sincerely, and utterly unreliably.
‘Please, please, please come and visit me again,’ she said. ‘I might remember more things to tell you, if you came again.’
‘I promise I will try.’
She seemed satisfied with that.
She insisted on accompanying me to the door. The dwarfs reappeared, attending her like malevolent pets. She kept repeating ‘
We walked away in silence. Khay seemed quite sobered now.
‘I feel I owe you an apology,’ he said, at length.
‘Accepted,’ I replied.
We bowed to each other.
‘You must know the name of this Physician,’ I said.
His face fell with disappointment.
‘I wish I did. I knew, of course, that she was here, and why. I was given the responsibility of the practical aspects of her care. But the order came from Ay, perhaps in collaboration with Horemheb. This “Physician” would simply have been granted a pass to the royal quarters, and it would all have been done in secret. It all happened so long ago, and she was such an embarrassment, I suppose we all just forgot about her, and carried on with matters that seemed much more important. She was the dirty family secret, and we were all glad to get rid of her.’
