Sands of Time

water.’ She was holding the parcel gingerly with her fingertips. Kneeling on the rim of the pond she leaned forward and dropped it onto the island. ‘There. Will that contain it, do you think?’

There was a pause as both women looked round. A stray breeze rustled through the weeping cherry near them, stirring the hanging branches into a moving curtain of delicate pink flowers. A cat’s paw of ripples sped across the water’s surface and was gone.

Serena nodded with more certainty than she felt. ‘They say witches can’t cross water. I’m not sure about Egyptian ghosts. Or djinn. It’s worth a try.’

‘Weave a spell for me. Just to make sure.’

Serena gave her deep throaty laugh. ‘I can’t imagine what you really think of my so-called powers, Anna. I don’t do spells. I’m not a magician. I have studied Egyptian spirituality, that’s all.’

‘It’s enough.’ Anna caught her arm and squeezed it. ‘Go on. It’s only got to last the night.’

She stood and watched as Serena prayed and added her own fervent p.s. to the message then they turned and walked back towards the house. Neither woman looked back.

The storm struck about midnight. Anna lay in bed staring up at the ceiling listening to the rain, wondering if Serena in the room across the landing was doing the same. Switching on the lamp by her bed she sat up, shivering. She climbed out of bed and padded across to the window. Pushing back the curtain she peered out. The garden lay in total darkness; rain streamed down the window panes and spattered the paving of the terrace below. Climbing back into bed she lay back on her pillows and closed her eyes with a shiver. The lamp was still on; she made no move to turn it off.

* * *

On the stone island the bubble-wrapped parcel lay glistening in the darkness. All around it the sound of water filled the silence. The rain on the stone pathways; the rain on the leaves; the rain in the pond, splashing the lilies, dripping from the small fountain head, filling the basin higher and higher. Slowly the rain was seeping into the wrapping. Inside it another plug of ancient sand began to dissolve. The guardian priests leaned closer. In the darkness the wraithlike shapes were all but invisible. Their anger was growing stronger.

In her dream Anna could see the sun setting across the desert; she could smell the hot air wafting from vast distances; it was scented with kyphi; she could feel the heat of the desert beneath her feet. In her bedroom a drift of sand appeared on the carpet and blew gently to and fro as though shifted by the desert wind. Toby. She wanted Toby. In her dream she was searching for him, knowing only he could save her, knowing that somewhere he was waiting for her. Restlessly she turned over, her hair spreading across the pillow. Even in her sleep she was afraid.

6

Toby drove down overnight through the storm to his mother’s house in Battersea, had a couple of hours’ sleep, a quick shave, a cup of coffee and was at Anna’s door by ten. She opened it so quickly he guessed she had been watching for him through the curtains.

They stood for a moment staring at one another, awkwardly, then Toby stepped forward. He gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘Hi. Good to see you again.’ He longed to take her in his arms.

‘And you.’

‘I’m glad you phoned. It felt very far away from the action, up there in Scotland. I was wondering how you were and what was happening.’

‘I’ve been trying to get back to normality.’ She found she was staring into his eyes as though mesmerised by his gaze. She hadn’t realised how much she had missed his presence near her. ‘It seems I can’t quite manage it without your advice.’ She smiled at him and, reaching out, took his hand. ‘It’s so good to see you.’ There was a moment’s constrained silence and then it was over; they were both smiling and reaching out towards one another and Anna was blinking away tears of relief and happiness.

As Toby hugged her he was overwhelmed with contentment. ‘Oh God, I’ve missed you so much. I was afraid – ’

‘So was I. I was a fool to let you go. I’ve thought about you every second.’ She clung to him. ‘Oh Toby, it’s been so awful without you, and it’s taken this to bring me to my senses. This terrible fear. I can’t tell you how dreadful it was last night after Serena brought the bottle back.’

When they had convened over the coffee pot in the kitchen that morning, the two women had both been exhausted; both had woken in the night; they did not have to compare notes to know that they had both suffered from nightmares.

The bubble-wrapped parcel had been retrieved cautiously and fearfully from its island and superficially dried with a dish cloth. It was once more on the table when Toby followed Anna inside. Serena was already sitting in front of it and when the other two joined her all three sat looking down at the bottle in its wrapping in silence for a few seconds.

Toby could feel a strange knot of excitement in his throat. He wanted to grab the small parcel. To make sure it was safe. He glanced up from one face to the other. ‘So? What has been happening and what are the options so far?’ His gaze returned to Anna and he smiled at her. But he could feel the fear in the room. It was like an electric tension in the air.

‘Serena has offered to take it back to Egypt – to Philae – and leave it there buried in the sand, or perhaps to try throwing it in the Nile again.’ Anna shivered. ‘Or perhaps one of us could throw it into the Thames. That might work. It might just disappear for ever in the mud. Or, I had another idea this morning. I could take it to the British Museum. This is twenty-first-century London; the age of reason and science. Let the experts decide what should happen to it. Maybe a glass case is the best place for it. Maybe they would even open it and see what is inside – ’

Her suggestion was greeted by a moment of total silence as they considered what she had said. Toby gazed down at the parcel thoughtfully; rationally. The opposition when it came seemed to explode from inside his own head.

No!

He put his hand to his forehead uncertainly.

Keep it, you fool!

Use it!

His lips hadn’t moved; he was sure he hadn’t spoken and yet both women were staring at him incredulously.

‘Toby?’ Anna’s face was white.

His mouth had gone dry. For a moment he didn’t dare speak. The voice, which had boomed out so suddenly, had come from him and yet for a moment he had not even been aware of what had happened. He put his hands out in front of him as though to reassure himself that the table was still there. ‘Did you hear someone say to keep it?’ he whispered.

Anna frowned uncertainly. It was Serena who nodded.

‘So, who was it?’

Serena raised an eyebrow. ‘It was a voice, Toby. A voice from the past.’ Sometimes she wished she didn’t hear these things so clearly. She had spent so long training, so much time reading, learning the old prayers which people mocked as pastiche, so many hours meditating to develop her skills, but sometimes, more and more often lately, she had found herself wishing she hadn’t. Wishing she didn’t hear, didn’t see, things that most people never even suspected were there.

‘Toby?’ Anna reached out towards him and put her hand over his. ‘Are you all right?’ The room was suddenly very cold.

He nodded. He swallowed hard, clutching at her fingers. ‘Sorry. I’m not sure where that came from. Put it down to the sleepless night. And take no notice. I think all your options are good ones. Have we decided the bottle shouldn’t be destroyed?’