Shadows on the Nile Read Free

lonely as a lunatic’s across the gardens of Putney.
    Jessie backed away from the window. The flat was on the first floor and her bedroom looked out onto the street where a lamp-post further up the road stood patiently, watching out for her like a friend. Its yellow light pushed its way every night through the wide gap between her curtains, so that she could move from room to room without turning on thelights. It was better that way. She didn’t want to give any sign that she couldn’t sleep. That she might be nervous.
    Anyway, she didn’t want to disturb Tabitha.
    She moved on silent feet into the living room. It was darker here, the curtains drawn fully closed, and she felt her heart-rate pick up a notch. But she could steer her way around each chair and table even with her eyes closed, so reached the broad bay window with no mishap. There were three catches. She slipped her hand behind the curtain and tested each one. All locked. Her heart rewarded her by climbing back down the scale, and she smiled, shaking her head at herself. She was tucking the curtains back into place when the yellow light outside wavered and her breath stalled in her throat. She made herself look again.
    Nothing moved. The light had settled, but something – or someone – had crossed its path. From behind the swathe of curtain she examined the quiet residential road with care, inspected each solid pouch of darkness and scoured the black outlines of the shadows.
    I can wait.
    I can wait longer than you can
.
    ‘Oh, Jessie, what on earth are you doing up at this hour?’
    Tabitha flipped the switch and Jessie blinked in the sudden flood of light that swept through the room. She stepped quickly away from the window.
    ‘Just restless,’ she shrugged. ‘Can’t sleep. Too much wine last night.’
    ‘I love it when you come to the club to hear us. I always play better.’
    Jessie laughed.
    Tabitha Mornay had shared the flat with her for the past three years. She possessed straight black hair that hung halfway down her back, and very white skin. That may have been because she lived her life the wrong way round – she slept much of the day and emerged only when the sun went down, full of energy and passionate about her music. She was a saxophonist in a jazz band called The Jack Rabbits, which played a smoky London club every night. Though nearly thirty years old, she looked no more than nineteen.
    Tabitha twined her hair into a sleek snake overone shoulder. ‘Who was that good-looking man you were dancing with at the end of the evening?’
    ‘No one particular.’
    ‘Hah! I wish I had a “no one” like that.’
    ‘I didn’t like his skinny moustache. Like a bootlace.’
    ‘His moustache was elegant. He had style. You’re too picky for your own good, my girl.’
    Jessie rolled her blue eyes. ‘Next time I’ll stick his head down your saxophone and you can play his moustache your tune.’
    Tabitha chuckled, yawned, wrapped her horrible pink satin robe more tightly around her waist and slunk off into the kitchen. Immediately Jessie darted into Tabitha’s bedroom and checked the window catch. This side of the house faced out onto the back garden and she peered closely but nothing was moving in the blackness, except the branches of the lilac tree. For the room of a smoke-hardened jazz player, it was eerily neat and tidy. She returned to her own bedroom but paced back and forth across the yellow slash of light until she heard Tabitha’s door close, and only then did she emerge again. She quietly tested the window catch in the kitchen and although it was definitely locked, she tightened it further. Then in the dark she stood with her cheek pressed against the front door, listening.
    I can wait.
    I can wait longer than you.
    Timothy Kenton inspected his companionsat the round table with an interest that he kept carefully veiled. But his quick eyes spotted the small movements of their fingers where they lay splayed out on the gold cloth in