‘What about you?’
‘I’m always there, talking to the camera.’
‘But you’re a Falcon too. Doesn’t he want to make use of that?’
‘You’re surely not suggesting that anyone could mistake me for a god, are you, Freya?’
‘I suppose not.’
‘Issuing edicts? Laying down the law? Nah! I’d be sure to make a mess of it, wouldn’t I?’ He regarded her with wry amusement. ‘That’s one thing I guess we can agree on.’
Here was dangerous territory. But she coped with ease, simply saying lightly, ‘If you say so.’
‘I do say so. Right, I’ll be going now. I’ll collect you in an hour.’
‘How do you dress for dinner here?’
‘Usually it’s pretty casual, but not tonight. Everyone’s poshing up in your honour. If you need me I’m just next door.’
He departed without waiting for a reply. Freya gave a small sigh of relief. So far it hadn’t gone too badly. Humour was a good way to deal with things.
It was a little disconcerting to know that he was next door, and when she went out onto the balcony she glanced at his window, ready to retreat if he appeared. But he didn’t, and she was able to breathe in the magical atmosphere undisturbed.
She’d brought a couple of elegant cocktail dresses with her. For dinner she chose one in blue silk that fitted her figure neatly without too much emphasis. Like Jackson, she was keeping her distance.
There had been that troublesome moment at the airport, when she’d feared that he had not come. But her feelings were easily explained, she assured herself. They needed him as a guide. No more. Nothing about him could bother her now. Not even the fact that he was in the next room.
After an hour he presented himself, dressed in an evening jacket.
‘You look fine,’ he said politely. ‘Let’s go and collect our parents.’
Both Amos and Janine were smartly dressed for the evening, and Freya was glad to see that the atmosphere between them was warm. Amos seemed to be enjoying himself.
Seven people were waiting for them.
‘This is Larry, the boss,’ Jackson said lightly. ‘He gives his orders and we all jump.’
‘That’s Jackson’s idea of a joke,’ Larry said. ‘I don’t think he’s ever taken an order in his life.’
Freya took to Larry from the start. In his early forties, he was moderately handsome, if slightly on the plump side, and he seemed to live permanently on the edge of laughter. He introduced her to Tommy, his second-in-command, a lively, feverish young man who sent her an admiring message with his eyes and started blurting out incoherent words—which Larry firmly silenced.
‘He’s a good lad,’ he told Freya under his breath, ‘but he can be exhausting.’
Jackson joined them and introduced the rest of the team, finishing with a dazzlingly pretty young woman who greeted him with a peck on the cheek.
‘This is Debra—Larry’s excellent secretary,’ Jackson explained. ‘And sometimes she deigns to act as my secretary too.’
That wasn’t her only role in his life, Freya thought; not if her teasing manner towards him was anything to go by. She watched as he sat next to Debra, giving her his full attention, laughing at something she said, meeting her eyes.
When the introductions were finished Larry led Freya to a chair and pulled it out.
‘Sit next to me,’ he said. ‘I want to know all about Jackson.’
‘Surely you know plenty about him by now?’ she said.
‘Only the trivial things. But every time we argue he wins. That’s got to stop. I want you to tell me about his weaknesses, so that I’ll have him at a disadvantage instead of the other way around.’
He spoke in a loud voice, inviting everyone to share the joke.
Jackson grinned. ‘He’s been trying to catch me on the hop since the day we met,’ he announced. ‘No success so far.’
‘But I can live in hope,’ Larry declared. ‘If this charming lady will be my co-conspirator?’
‘Nothing would give me more pleasure,’ Freya assured him. ‘I could always tell you about the time three years ago when— Well, let’s leave that until later.’
The mention of three years ago was a message to Jackson. This was a jokey conversation in which the recent past played no part. Tonight was simply for pleasure. His nod told her that he understood and agreed.
Larry was an entertaining companion, with a gift for telling anecdotes. One in particular reduced her to such a fit of laughter that everyone else at the table stared.
‘I’m sorry,’ she choked, bringing herself under control. ‘It’s the way you tell the story—were you ever an actor, by any chance?’
‘Yes, I was,’ he said. ‘I started as an actor and gave it up to become a director. And you saw through me. Boy, you’re really clever!’ He took both her hands in his, gazing deeply into her eyes. ‘Some time soon we must get together and you must tell me all about yourself.’
She wasn’t fooled. This wasn’t real flirting but a bit of harmless fun. And he expected her to understand it that way. His teasing glint made that clear. She had no problem in chuckling and saying with mock fervour, ‘I can’t wait.’
There was a cheer from the rest of the table, and cries of, ‘Watch out for him, Freya. He’s a dodgy character.’
‘Well, I can see that,’ she said. ‘There’s the fun.’
Tommy raised his glass, declaring, ‘I’m a dodgy character too. Don’t forget me.’
‘You’ll have to wait,’ she said. ‘I only have time for one dodgy character at a time.’
The evening was a big success. Freya would gladly have stayed later, but she could see Amos trying to suppress a yawn and not succeeding. When Janine squeezed his hand he rose to follow her without protest.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Freya said. ‘Goodnight, everyone.’
‘Goodnight,’ Jackson said. ‘Sleep well. We’ve got a heavy day tomorrow.’
Debra, sitting beside him, giggled and clutched his arm. Freya turned quickly away.
Upstairs, she and Janine worked at making Amos comfortable, to which he responded with the comment, ‘Stop fussing, you two. I’m all right.’
‘Of course you are,’ Freya said. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
She kissed her mother and departed. Now she badly wanted to be alone and it was a relief to escape to her room. Once inside she didn’t put on the light, but opened the glass door onto the balcony and went out into the night air.
A soft light still gleamed on the pyramids, making them glow faintly. Entranced, she stood watching, enjoying the feeling that she was witnessing a mystery that stretched back centuries. It was a sweet, magical feeling that seemed to take her back to another time, when the world itself had seemed imbued by magic.
But what folly that had been. And how quickly, how brutally it had ended.
She was swept by a strange mood; deep inside her there was a kind of anguish—not for Dan himself, but for what he had seemed to represent: hope,