Free The Visitors by Sally Beauman Page B

here, and the remaining six winged their way home to Lord Carnarvon’s country seat… I guess they’re now part of his collection at Highclere Castle. That’s a poor reward for the kind of money he’s been spending. Carnarvon wants a royal tomb, even dreams of an intact one, I suspect – and so does Carter. So, as you can see, they’re both optimists and romantics – because if they should find such a thing, it would be a first. Every single tomb ever discovered in the Valley has been robbed – very thoroughly robbed – in antiquity.’
    ‘Well, that is true, of course,’ said Miss Mack, nodding sagely. ‘But perhaps they’ll make a breakthrough even so,’ she added: she too was an optimist and a romantic. ‘After all, the Valley is a mysterious place. It may yet have more secrets to reveal!’
    ‘Let us hope so,’ Winlock replied in a dry tone. It was difficult to tell whether he thought Carter deluded, or a man who was on to something. ‘Anyway, last year Carter was clearing the ground by the tomb of Ramesses VI, but that area’s infested with tourists and it’s now the height of the season. So he’s switched locations, and when we make our trip, we’ll find him slaving away in a different part of the Valley altogether. Eve will be there – she never leaves her father’s side, so, if Carter’s in one of his foul moods, we can always talk to her… Or to Lordy.’
    ‘Lordy?’ Miss Mack’s eyebrows rose.
    ‘Lord Carnarvon has a surfeit of names, Miss Mackenzie.’ Winlock smiled. ‘No less than five birth names, plus his title, plus “Pups”, as Eve calls him; plus “Porchy”, which is what his family calls him – his courtesy title was Viscount Porchester before he inherited the earldom, you know. That makes a grand total of eight names. That’s more than the pharaohs: even they stuck at a modest five. So we Met renegades call him “Lordy”.’ Winlock’s smile widened. ‘Not to his face, naturally. He’s an interesting guy, and I have a lot of time for him – but, put it this way, I wouldn’t want to risk lèse-majesté. ’
     
    When Miss Mack and I travelled on to Luxor, we were to stay at the Winter Palace Hotel on the banks of the Nile, looking west across the river towards the Theban hills – that much had now been decided. Once there, our time was limited, for the date of our return to England was fixed. Even so, we would go everywhere and see everything. Only one aspect of the master plan remained undecided: how should we travel upriver? The Winlocks, Mrs d’Erlanger and Lady Evelyn, together with her father, who was due to arrive from England very soon, would all be travelling by the overnight Wagons Lits train, which would cover the journey in some twelve hours. Howard Carter would also be journeying to Luxor by train, going ahead of the Carnarvons to get the dig under way.
    This uniformity of choice alarmed Miss Mack: the alternative to the White Train was to travel upriver by boat, always her preference. But should we journey in a swift, economic way via a Thomas Cook steamboat, or by the more expensive, picturesque means of a houseboat or dahabiyeh ? After days of indecision, Miss Mack finally made up her mind: both the train (dull and commonplace) and the dahabiyeh (slow and extravagant) were ruled out: QED, the Cook’s steamboat it had to be. I reported this plan to Frances immediately.
    ‘A hard decision,’ Miss Mack cried, over dinner at Shepheard’s, on the first occasion this decision was publicly discussed. ‘I was tempted, Lady Evelyn – I first sailed up the Nile with my father on a dahabiyeh called Kleopatra . I shall never forget it! We flew the Stars and Stripes, and we had a piano, and our own library… Ah, the dawns I saw! The pelicans diving for fish! In fact, it was such a wonderful experience, I mean to write it up as a memoir one of these days. But times change, and I must be realistic. The young man at Cook’s was most helpful. So I’ve