Page 8 of Death and Desire

What drew her to this fascinating place? Was it truly only the lingering tie to her mother’s memory? Or was there something more waiting for her?

Once settled on the train, Violet cradled the locket in her fist as they pulled away from the station. A comforting caress of calm soothed her overwrought mind. Her father sat with his spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose as he read the paper while her brother conversed with David at the bar.

She relaxed into her seat and accepted a glass of brandy from the server. Sipping the warming liquid, she watched scenery pass in a blur, seeing nothing but exciting possibilities before her.

Whatever awaited her in Egypt, she would welcome it with open arms.

Chapter Two

Violet abhorred flying, much preferring train travel to the uncertainty of being foisted into the air and hurtled around in a tin can like a sardine. Twice she was sick and vowed she would rather walk back to England than board the horrid monstrosity again. She could taste lingering bitterness in the back of her throat. Flying was not for a weak constitution.

Her father assured her she would grow accustomed to it. While their flights from Paris to Cairo over the past two days left both her and her brother shaken, David and her father seemed unbothered. The moment she set foot on the ground in Cairo, her legs nearly gave out beneath her. Catching herself against Isaac, she inhaled to find her bearings after being airborne for what felt like weeks.

A warm breeze drifted across her skin—quite different from the cool autumn days at their estate outside of Birmingham and a drastic shift from London. She wiped sweat from her brow as she shielded her eyes from the sun.

“Is it always this warm?” she asked the young man standing beside their waiting car.

He nodded with a smile. “You’ll get used to it.”

She climbed into the vehicle and settled into the seat. There was no top on the car, which allowed a breeze to cool her overheated skin and ruffle her hair beneath a wide-brimmed hat.

Violet ignored the chatter of her brother and his friend as they drove, instead admiring the architecture, marveling at the differences between this city and London. Some styles she recognized as modern Italian or French designs, but there were hints of older designs hidden in the winding streets of Cairo. Here in the heart of Egypt lay a vibrant community full of new adventures.

She struggled to constrain her excitement at finally being in Egypt.

A familiar tug in her mind pulled her attention to a towering mosque as they passed. Beyond it, she glimpsed a synagogue, and several streets later, a Coptic Orthodox Church rose into view. Her eyes grew wider with every passing moment, and she tried to take in as much as possible.

Her mother had told her stories of her trip to Egypt. Of the spice markets and bazaars. The mingling cultures in the heart of Cairo. What little Violet knew had given her the distinct impression she’d find all the comforts of home upon their arrival.

But she didn’t long for the comforts of England, or even the continent. She craved what lay beyond the fancy trappings. Why else would one come to Egypt but to uncover mysteries? To experience something new and exotic?

A wandering curiosity unfolded before her as they turned onto a wide street. Ahead, she could see a cultivated garden in the square, complete with a fountain and lush greenery. Across from it stood the stalwart Continental-Savoy, nearly encompassing the entire block. Her heart beat faster with each breath.

As the car turned, Violet tipped her head back to take in the massive structure of the hotel. White concrete and marble glinted in the afternoon sunlight, almost blinding in its brilliance. Above, rippling in the gentle breeze, three regional flags stood at attention on the rooftop.

To the right lay another garden with dining patrons and milling staff in white coats. People sipped tea and conversed beneath umbrella-shaded tables with a quartet playing in the background. Violet’s stomach growled at the thought of food. The troubles of her flight had shifted to the back of her mind, allowing hunger to return.

---