They Came to Baghdad

‘There’s nothing in her line so far. Of course we’re only just beginning. Actually I understood she wasn’t coming out for another fortnight or so, but I didn’t read her letter very carefully, and then I mislaid it, so I didn’t really remember what she said. My wife arrives next week – or the week after – now what have I done with her letter? – and I rather thought Venetia was coming out with her – but of course I may have got it all wrong. Well, well, I dare say we can make her useful. There’s a lot of pottery coming up.’

‘There’s nothing odd about her, is there?’

‘Odd?’ Dr Pauncefoot Jones peered at him. ‘In what way?’

‘Well, she hasn’t had a nervous breakdown or anything?’

‘Emerson did say, I remember, that she had been working very hard. Diploma or degree or something, but I don’t think he said anything about a breakdown. Why?’

‘Well, I picked up her up at the side of the road, wandering about all by herself. It was on that little Tell as a matter of fact that you come to about a mile before you turn off the road –’

‘I remember,’ said Dr Pauncefoot Jones. ‘You know I once picked up a bit of Nuzu ware on that Tell. Extraordinary really, to find it so far south.’

Richard refused to be diverted to archaeological topics and went on firmly:

‘She told me the most extraordinary story. Said she’d gone to have her hair shampooed, and they chloroformed her and kidnapped her and carried her off to Mandali and imprisoned her in a house and she’d escaped in the middle of the night – the most preposterous rigmarole you ever heard.’

Dr Pauncefoot Jones shook his head.

‘Doesn’t sound at all probable,’ he said. ‘Country’s perfectly quiet and well policed. It’s never been safer.’

‘Exactly. She’d obviously made the whole thing up. That’s why I asked if she’d had a breakdown. She must be one of those hysterical girls who say curates are in love with them, or that doctors assault them. She may give us a lot of trouble.’

‘Oh, I expect she’ll calm down,’ said Dr Pauncefoot Jones optimistically. ‘Where is she now?’

‘I left her to have a wash and brush up.’ He hesitated. ‘She hasn’t got any luggage of any kind with her.’

‘Hasn’t she? That really is awkward. You don’t think she’ll expect me to lend her pyjamas? I’ve only got two pairs and one of them is badly torn.’

‘She’ll have to do the best she can until the lorry goes in next week. I must say I wonder what she can have been up to – all alone and out in the blue.’

‘Girls are amazing nowadays,’ said Dr Pauncefoot Jones vaguely. ‘Turn up all over the place. Great nuisance when you want to get on with things. This place is far enough out, you’d think, to be free of visitors, but you’d be surprised how cars and people turn up when you can least do with them. Dear me, the men have stopped work. It must be lunch-time. We’d better go back to the house.’ 

II

Victoria, waiting in some trepidation, found Dr Pauncefoot Jones wildly far from her imaginings. He was a small rotund man with a semi-bald head and a twinkling eye. To her utter amazement he came towards her with outstretched hands.

‘Well, well, Venetia – I mean Victoria,’ he said. ‘This is quite a surprise. Got it into my head you weren’t arriving until next month. But I’m delighted to see you. Delighted. How’s Emerson? Not troubled too much by asthma, I hope?’

Victoria rallied her scattered senses and said cautiously that the asthma hadn’t been too bad.

‘Wraps his throat up too much,’ said Dr Pauncefoot Jones. ‘Great mistake. I told him so. All these academic fellows who stick around universities get far too absorbed in their health. Shouldn’t think about it – that’s the way to keep fit. Well, I hope you’ll settle down – my wife will be out next week – or the week after – she’s been seedy, you know. I really must find her letter. Richard tells me your luggage has gone astray. How are you going to manage? Can’t very well send the lorry in before next week?’

‘I expect I can manage until then,’ said Victoria. ‘In fact I shall have to.’

Dr Pauncefoot Jones chuckled.

‘Richard and I can’t lend you much. Toothbrush will be all right. There are a dozen of them in our stores – and cotton wool if that’s any good to you and – let me see – talcum powder – and some spare socks and handerchiefs. Not much else, I’m afraid.’

‘I shall be all right,’ said Victoria and smiled happily.

‘No signs of a cemetery for you,’ Dr Pauncefoot Jones warned her. ‘Some nice walls coming up – and quantities of potsherds from the far trenches. Might get some joins. We’ll keep you busy somehow or other. I forget if you do photography?’

‘I know something about it,’ said Victoria cautiously, relieved by a mention of something that she did actually have a working knowledge of.

‘Good, good. You can develop negatives? I’m old-fashioned – use plates still. The dark-room is rather primitive. You young people who are used to all the gadgets, often find these primitive conditions rather upsetting.’

‘I shan’t mind,’ said Victoria.

From the Expedition’s stores, she selected a toothbrush, toothpaste, a sponge and some talcum powder.

Her head was still in a whirl as she tried to understand exactly what her position was. Clearly she was being mistaken for a girl called Venetia Someone who was coming out to join the Expedition and who was an anthropologist. Victoria didn’t even know what an anthropologist was. If there was a dictionary somewhere about, she must look it up. The other girl was presumably not arriving for at least another week. Very well then, for a week – or until such time as the car or lorry went into Baghdad, Victoria would be Venetia Thingummy, keeping her end up as best she could. She had no fears for Dr Pauncefoot Jones who seemed delightfully vague, but she was nervous of Richard Baker. She disliked the speculative way he looked at her, and she had an idea that unless she was careful he would soon see through her pretences. Fortunately she had been, for a brief period, a secretary typist at the Archaeological Institute in London, and she had a smattering of phrases and odds and ends that would be useful now. But she would have to be very careful not to make any real slip. Luckily, thought Victoria, men were always so superior about women that any slip she did make would be treated less as a suspicious circumstance than as a proof of how ridiculously addlepated all women were!

This interval would give her a respite which, she felt, she badly needed. For, from the point of view of the Olive Branch, her complete disappearance would be very disconcerting. She had escaped from her prison, but what had happened to her afterwards would be very hard to trace. Richard’s car had not passed through Mandali so that nobody could guess she was now at Tell Aswad. No, from their point of view, Victoria would seem to have vanished into thin air. They might conclude, very possibly they would conclude, that she was dead. That she had strayed into the desert and died of exhaustion.

Well, let them think so. Regrettably, of course, Edward would think so, too! Very well, Edward must lump it. In any case he would not have to lump it long. Just when he was torturing himself with remorse for having told her to cultivate Catherine’s society – there she would be – suddenly restored to him – back from the dead – only a blonde instead of a brunette.

That brought her back to the mystery of why They (whoever they were) had dyed her hair. There must, Victoria thought, be some reason – but she could not for the life of her understand what the reason could be. As it was, she was soon going to look very peculiar when her hair started growing out black at the roots. A phony platinum blonde, with no face powder and no lipstick! Could any girl be more unfortunately placed? Never mind, thought Victoria, I’m alive, aren’t I? And I don’t see at all why I shouldn’t enjoy myself a good deal – at any rate for a week. It was really great fun to be on an archaeological expedition and see what it was like. If only she could keep her end up and not give herself away.

She did not find her role altogether easy. References to people, to publications, to styles of architecture and categories of pottery had to be dealt with cautiously. Fortunately a good listener is always appreciated. Victoria was