Chapter Text
The one issue with being able to live as you please, is that freedom and boredom are very close friends.
* * *
She stood by the docks wearing a leather hat, wide brimmed to shade her eyes from the sun and fastened loosely under her chin with cord, a canvas holdall hanging from her shoulder. She had been waiting for what must have been at least an hour, but she seemed uninterested with the time. She wasn’t slouching and lolling about like some of the dockhands seemed to, she stood with purpose, but she stood with an ease about life. As if there was nothing she had to do and nowhere she had to be.
She didn’t.
She had all the time in the world and nothing to do with it except stand and wait. Waiting for someone else? Perhaps. Waiting for the right boat? Possibly. Waiting for the mood to strike her to move from the lovely, shady spot out of the sun? Definitely.
She didn’t really want to move at all, America had grown on her and she supposed she’d stored away all her growing up until she was there. It was more home than anywhere else and the weather was nice enough. But there was only so much interest you could invest in the weather.
There was a growing popularity for sailing and cruises, the fastest way to travel outside the country too. Unless you wanted to get to Mexico. She knew a lot of people who had wanted to get to Mexico but they didn’t always show up on the other side.
Eyes crawling methodically over the crowd to the left, and back slowly over to the right, without moving her head she listened to the clop of smart heels on the ground. The gait of someone who was comfortable being here and knew where he was headed.
She scraped her own feet, clad in heavy boots that hadn’t come off her feet since she succeeded in haggling them from a construction worker for, of all things, a newspaper and a kiss on the cheek. Moving up behind her mark she quickened her pace, tucked her hair under her hat, hunched over her shoulders and took an unlit cigarette out of her pocket.
“We seem set for fine sailing, Captain!”
The Captain turned to see a rather slight crew member addressing him in a rather broad American accent whilst looking over his shoulder. If it weren’t for the cigarette in his hand, he would have accused him of being not much more than a boy.
“Yes, I believe so. Are you one of my crew?”
“That depends, Captain, on which gal you might be sailing and where you might be sailing her to.” The youth winked.
The American sailor’s jaw tensed as he heard his precious vessel being called a ‘gal’, as if she were a tramp and nearly blanched at the wink. But he couldn’t resist standing even straighter as he proudly announced his ship.
“The S.S. Resolute. Bound for the port of Alexandria.”
They tugged their hat down just a little bit father. “I’m working the very same.”
“No one aboard my ship would be caught smoking, young man. You don’t even look old enough to be employed on a passenger ship.” He peered down his nose, a challenge as he was rather on the short side.
“That obvious, is it?” A cheeky grin suddenly appeared from underneath the brim of the hat, the voice grew into a distinctly British accent and the cigarette, still unlit, disappeared back into a pocket. “There ain’t no fooling you, Sir.”
All at once the body unravelled itself and put itself back together. The rolled shoulders straightened up, the legs became taller and the arms swung freely away from the torso. Then it all shook itself into the body of a very tall, scrawny young girl with a youthful twinkle in her eye. The hat was taken off and brown flapper-girl style hair shook out.
“Just who are you, madam? I don’t take children out for jaunts.” The Captain became very crisp, but not without the courtesy even an American must afford any lady of any means.
“’m a potential passenger I hope.” She said scruffily. “You caught me out on the crew act, I was hoping to get on for free.”
He was firm. “I haven’t the time for anyone other than my crew and my paying passengers.”
She ran after him. “I can work for you, I’m not shy of labour, you know.”
“It isn’t procedure.” He was getting very hot under the collar.
“Look I know you’re not like most men, Sir.” She wheedled. If the Captain had hoped to lose his tag-along in the hustle and bustle of a New York port, he was sorely mistaken. She was nimble girl who was tall enough for people to give her a sufficient berth wide to keep up with him. “I know you’ve got more standards than everyone else, I mean who wouldn’t with such a nice ship an’ all, but I really need to get to Alexandria.”
“What’s in Alexandria?” He asked.
Her reply came with a shrug, “Something new. I travel a lot, it’s what I do. Travel around.”
“How old are you? Shouldn’t you be with your parents?”
She laughed a laugh that said only the criminally insane would think that a young girl travelling alone had parents. This earned her a sympathetic glance from the Captain who, softening as he looked at the young girl with a single holdall and a chapped bottom lip, let an unregistered passenger aboard his ship with instructions to stay out of sight and never let him see them again.
She did just that and snuck into the bowls of the ship. Those on the lowest decks cared nothing for her and she walked by them totally ignored. The higher up she got, the more questioning glances she received but if she tipped her hat at them and smiled politely they let her pass. People didn’t like to become involved in things that took more effort than the reward it reaped, kicking a young girl off a ship wasn’t going to make a single difference to their lives.
For the most part, the journey was pleasant, rolling seas and clipping at quite a nice pace. Passengers hungered for a holiday in exotic lands, not a long time spent at sea. They were not afraid to spend whatever it took to ensure a speedy trip. The toffs were a little over-bearing, silly, giggly women in groups with overly big, fluffy coats who never wore long skirts and then complained when their stockings got wet. The men were a little better, a smart suit for every occasion, who politely greeted her because she was a woman. Then politely avoided her because she was a woman alone. At least she wasn’t a woman for sale, she was convinced there were a few of them about the ship, but she was more interested in the sea than hunting down prostitutes.
The sea. She remembered the first time she had crossed the Atlantic, being amazed at the smell of the salt and the vastness of the ocean. It was heaven to look at the horizon and see it unblemished, just a seam in between two different shades of blue. This time it was subtly different; the air was colder and whilst she enjoyed it no less, there was something disturbing that had settled itself into the waves. The hypnotic rocking of the boat as she slept did nothing to sway away the pit of apprehension in her gut.
Was it excitement about new adventures? Perhaps. Did that make her feel any better? Absolutely not.
Not that it mattered, they made their crossing in a matter of two weeks and she set foot in the port with a single, gleeful wave at the Captain, who afforded her a trace of a smile before forgetting she existed. She liked it that way.
She set off for Cairo, hitching a ride in the cargo hold of a train bound for the capital city, then following the path of the merchants on camels and horseback. She was used to walking, she had done so much of it over the years that she barely noticed the road beneath her. She found the night time an issue however, dressed only in a single layer with a thin blanket in her holdall the cold found no difficulty in sneaking under her skin. For a country that was so hot and unbearably dry during the day there was a treacherous, freezing wind at night.
Along the way she desperately tried to find a group of travellers or at least transport that would tolerate a tagalong. A lone white girl was an unusual sight to many of the people she shared the roads with, avoided by native Egyptians as dangerous, and avoided by other white folk as suspicious.
This was no different in Cairo, but there were even more people to ignore her, a huge, bustling city of commerce. The river seemed the best place to be if she was ever going to get anywhere in this sweltering new country. But the beauty of it was, that was all she wanted; anywhere, just somewhere new and Egyptian. She had her pick of parties to join, and she was prepared to juggle to get one.
“Afternoon gentlemen.” She strolled up to a band of men who were getting a weedy looking character to help them carry their bags onto a river boat. “Fancy a hand?”
The most intellectual-looking one spared her little time. “Away with you child, we haven’t time for games and we are not interested in anything you have to sell.”
“Aw, come on, you haven’t heard my pitch yet.” Her mouth pricked into a jaunty smirk abstained from showing irritation at being called a child. “I’m offering you good gentlemen free labour, all I want is to get wherever you’re going.”
“We’re off hunting for treasure in the lost City of the Dead. I don’t think you’d be interested girlie.” The blonde one laughed at her.
She spread her hands wide, innocuously. “I’m after adventure and travel. And if you’re going on one of those digs that are so popular, you’ll need an extra pair of hands. I’m quite nifty you know.”
Blonde put his bag down. “We don’t want your help.”
“You just don’t know me is all.” She continued, misdirecting his line of eyesight with a sloppy pass at his luggage before relieving him of the gun tucked in its holster.
“Hey!”
“Do you want this back?”
Henderson scowled at the laughter of his colleagues and grabbed his gun back.
The shortest one asked, “You interested any in gold, lady? Someone who can lift a man’s weapon without blinking is someone I’d be worried about leaving valuables with. Things can go missing.”
“I only want as much as can keep me on the move, I don’t want fame and fortune like you, don’t settle too well with me.”
He rubbed his jaw, considering matters, then pointed at her bag. “That all you own?”
“Why? You expecting me to have a wardrobe stashed away somewhere? I’m no pretty woman on a jolly, Sir.”
She threw her bag at him when he gestured for it with open hands, watching as he rifled through it. He found nothing more than a few spare bits of clothes and trinkets. There was a small leather pouch that he took out and emptied. There were a few US coins in there, all the good it would do her in Egypt.
“You’re no thief either. Not even a pistol on you.”
A man with glasses ruffled her hair. “Scamp just wants a good time and a boat ride. If she’s not after any treasure I’m fine with her tagging along.”
Henderson scoffed, and the intellectual man who had dismissed her to begin with remained aloof.
The man with her bag agreed. “We could use an extra pair of hands for all our gear, we won’t get any other help until we’re at Hamunaptra. And she’s sly too, she can keep an eye out for any real pickpockets that might come looking for easy pickings. You’re hired.”
She beamed at them and Glasses shook her hand.
“I’m Burns. Welcome to the greatest archaeological dig of all time.” He drawled, his accent reminding her of the country she’d only just left.
Pulling out a cigarette packet he opened it up. “Daniels did you take my last gasper?”
‘The scamp’ pulled a cigarette out of her pocket, she didn’t even smoke them but they were handy when you needed the trust of those who did.
“’ere you are, Sir.” She handed it to Glasses and took a box full of hammers and chisels onto the boat, spending another half hour helping them load insane amounts of boxes, crates, bags and bulky equipment. This could be a grand adventure indeed, provided this fabled City of the Dead was less lost, more just hard to find.
The guide spent the entire time leering at her. Once or twice he had attempted some sort of conversation with her but after a while he gave up, unhappy with her brief replies, and called her impudent before vanishing somewhere near the camels. She mistrusted him entirely. The twisting, nervous feeling that had rooted in her on the journey to Egypt only took further hold in the presence of the odious little man. Forever such a simpering smile, and a high-pitched voice that grated on her ears. But for adventure she would put up with anything.
The boat itself was nice, and she ended up with an actual room that was, for once, hers, bought and paid for. That in itself made her smile, it wasn’t often she slept somewhere where someone knocked on the door and gently woke her to invite her down to dinner.
Sat next to her in the small dining room of the river boat was a British woman like herself, although much more intellectual and fascinating.
“How do you do? Evelyn Carnahan.” She offered her hand.
“Uh, hi.” She shook it firmly, the slightly older woman seemed off-put by a man’s rough handshake coming from a lanky girl. “Magdalene. But don’t call me that.”
“You’re English, how marvellous! What should I call you then?”
Magdalene bit at her already overly chapped lip and concentrated on stabbing at her plate of food. She had no idea what it was. “You probably won’t know me long enough to call me anything. Maddie, I guess, if you ‘ave ta talk to me. Magdalene makes me sound like some old dame.”
Evelyn was daintily progressing through her own plate, poised like a true middle-class lady of quality. “Then you may call me Evy, well it’s lovely to meet you. What brings you to Egypt?”
“Adventure.”
“You’re an explorer?”
“No.” Magdalene laughed. “I travel wherever I want, I was in America and I ended up here.”
“Fancy that.” Evy became extraordinarily animated, and tapped insistently on the arm of the man next to her at the table. “Mr O’Connell, this young lady has been travelling in America.”
A tall, surly, attractive man with vibrant eyes turned to lift her a mildly pained smile. “A pleasure.”
“Likewise.” Magdalene responded in an equally dull tone.
“Why’d you make the mistake to come here?” He asked, whiskey glass in hand.
“Everywhere else got boring.” She lifted her own glass of gin and sipped. “I’ve snagged a ride as a hand for a bunch of Americans, loud as anything and obsessed with treasure. They’re travelling with some stuck up Prof or something.”
His brow darkened and he lifted himself out of his seat to head towards the smoking area. “Excuse me ladies.”
Magdalene snorted at being called a lady.
As Mr O’Connell left the dining room, Evy resumed her unique brand of conversational chatter. Magdalene couldn’t help but beg her to go on as she spoke of all she knew on Ancient Egypt, she sensed the adventure looming.
“So, you’re going to this Hamunaptra place?” she asked. “The American lot I’m working for are going to the very same place, is it really real?”
Evy smiled brightly, her perfect teeth showing. “Absolutely, Mr O’Connell has been there himself. Supposedly it’s the resting place of the richest Pharaoh of them all, Seti the first.”
“That would be why the Americans are going.” She tipped the rest of her drink down her throat and they headed out onto a table where they could drink in the breeze off the Nile and Evy could still read by the lights of the boat. “Now why’d a woman like you get with a gun-blazing type like O’Connell?”
“I hired him. He knows where he’s going, supposedly.” Evy pursed her lips. “And the map we found was half burnt. Without a guide, we can only get half of the way there.”
“Maybe we shall see each other there.” Magdalene smiled and slung her canvas bag back over her shoulder by the tattered leather strap.
“What’s in the bag?” The debut explorer asked.
“Just my things. When you travel constantly you need everything with you, sometimes you don’t get time to pack up a library before you go.” A subtle jibe at the monstrosity of books Evy had brought aboard. “Night Miss Evy.”
“Goodnight Maddie.” Evy’s warm smile at her was almost reminiscent of sisterly affection. Most likely a sense of companionship as they were both British.