Free Birds of the Nile by N E. David Page B

pitted against a professional – the ‘passion’ she had mentioned at dinner would guarantee that.
    Blake found himself sympathising with the Egyptian. He was not the only one who had been subjected to the force of her character and had been obliged to bow before it – they both now bore the scars. But his pity soon evaporated as a pang of jealousy tugged at him. Whether he had won or lost, the young man was fortunate to have the sole attention of this remarkable girl. She was young, bright and beautiful and seemed happy to be alive – and for all her forward manner and lack of inhibition, the confidence and innocence she’d shown were to be much admired. The mysteries of the world lay in front of her, she had yet to be tainted by it and that in itself was something to be treasured. How exciting her voyage of discovery would be Blake could only imagine, and at that moment there was nothing he would not have given to share it with her.
    A cloud passed over his heart. When had he last stood next to such a woman and inhaled the heady scent of beauty bound to intellect? He struggled to recall. Once perhaps, many years ago…But it was too far in the past for him to want to remember and he grieved at its passing as if some part of him had died and had left him incomplete. Lee Yong had her ‘passion’ and he had his, but now it was only for birds of the feathered kind. Moments such as the one he was witnessing would never come his way again andit saddened him to think of it.
    Toward the concrete dam, a quiet calm had settled over the waters of the Nile. The calling of the boat crews and those on the shore had abated and in a moment the others would come looking for him. But the sight of Lee Yong and the young Egyptian had already become too much for him to bear and before his companions could return and glimpse his sorrow, he decided to go below and take himself to bed.

Chapter Eight
    The following morning Blake woke early and rather than go out on deck, he decided to head straight down to breakfast. The dining room was deserted and the cold buffet of fruit, ham and yoghurt lay as yet untouched in its covering of clingfilm. From somewhere in the adjacent kitchen came the strangled wail of a popular Egyptian song as blithely unaware of his presence, a member of staff sang happily while he worked.
    This time Blake chose to sit by the window (or rather, porthole, as it was barely above the surface of the water) where he could watch the Nile glide peacefully by and reflect on yesterday’s events. He’d brought his notebook and a pen with him with the firm intention of completing the bird list he’d begun the previous afternoon. He risked being disturbed, but preferred the openness of the dining room to the confines of his cabin and had determined that even if the others arrived, he would stick doggedly to his task.
    He used the word ‘others’ as if there were already some form of relationship between them and to an extent he supposed it was true. Personally, he was not finding it unpleasant. In fact, it was a major point of interest – they all had characteristics he could readily observe and before long he found himself wondering that if they were to come back in another life as birds, just exactly what birds they would be. Soon, he found himself gazing dreamily out of the porthole and his mind began to drift as if mesmerised by the steadily flowing water.
    Suddenly, he came to as the voice from the kitchen re-erupted. On the table in front of him his notebook lay open, his pen next to it. So far, he’d been there for a good ten minutes and had managed only the one additional entry. But instead of Spur–winged Plover, as he’d originally intended, two quite different words stared up at him as he realised he had written down the name of Lee Yong. Annoyed with himself and embarrassedat his mistake, he crossed it out and determined to start again. But try as he might, he could not bring himself to remember what other