Shadows of the Nile Read Free Page B

and pressed it to her face. Her book was in her lap. She looked round. There was no one near her. The vast room was completely empty.
    She heard Gerald call. She came in hesitantly, then ran to her and put her arms round her.
    â€œAre you okay? Did you fall? Some of these stones are very uneven. Are you all right? Oh, you have to be careful.”
    Aline clung to her. “I tripped. I must have passed out. I’m fine. Honestly, I’m not hurt. But did you see someone on your way in?”
    â€œNo, I met no one at all. Why?”
    â€œI don’t know. I had such a weird dream. Maybe it’s the heat.”
    Gerald held her. “Here, let me help you up. You must drink lots of water whilst you’re here. Come on, we’ll go and find the others and see if there’s some sort of refreshment going.”
    She helped Aline to her feet, took her notebook from her, and again put her arm round her.
    Aline allowed herself to be led. At that moment she welcomed support from Gerald. She must have been out in the sun far too long. She must protect her head from the heat with the shawl as the seller had said.
    *
    â€œSomething you’ll like,” Gerald said, as they got back onto the coach. “We’re going to stop off at a perfumery before we get back to our hotel. You said you liked perfumes?”
    Aline groaned inwardly. She’d had enough excitement for the day and rather suspected that the perfumery might be the very one she really didn’t want to visit.
    The shop wasn’t far from the Pyramids and the tourists were greeted with great enthusiasm by a tall Egyptian in a long robe; he spoke perfect English, with an accent that could have come straight from Mayfair.
    Aline quickly looked at all the girls who came out to usher them into a small room and was relieved Nephthys wasn’t to be seen. Perhaps it wasn’t her shop. She said she had a shop in Cairo but it didn’t have to be that one. Aline relaxed a little.
    They sat round in a circle and were offered drinks. Gerald sat to one side of her and Cheng the other.
    â€œBe careful what you have to drink,” Gerald advised. “Some of the juices are mixed with fruit and vegetables and spices and are quite strong. You might get a tummy ache.”
    â€œI think you will like Farawla,” one of the girls said to the group. “It is a strawberry-based drink and very nice.” She gave them all a beaming smile. They all ordered it.
    And yet the drink the girl brought for Aline looked slightly different to the others. The colour was more intense. The glass was cloudier. She had been offered it with a slight bow and the sweetest of smiles from the girl who, like the others, was dressed from head to foot in darkest black.
    Aline felt uneasy. The feeling didn’t dispel when she tasted the juice. It smelt very sweet but it tasted bitter. She didn’t say anything about it because the demonstrator was already into showing the various oils and saying which would make the most perfect of aromas for whatever occasion.
    Every few seconds her wrists and fingers were dabbed with many different oils by the girl who’d given her the drink. Other girls were using the oils on the rest of her group. The room was beginning to smell very sensual. The Egyptian charming smile and persuasive manner, combined with the powerful blends of the exotic perfumes, began to bring in many orders.
    Aline had put the nearly full glass under her seat, quite determined not to drink any more of it, even if it offended the host. The girl spotted it.
    â€œYou don’t like your juice?”
    â€œIt’s very good,” Aline replied, “but I’ve had a lot to drink today and can’t manage it. I’m sorry.”
    The girl stood in front of her. The sweet smile had gone.
    â€œThe others have drunk theirs. It is good not to waste anything in this country.” She picked up the glass and thrust it into Aline’s