Chapter nineteen Monday, lunchtime: 28thoctober2013 the plan
“Tharie,” Nigel peers at me over his glasses, cup of tea in his hand, in a Museum branded mug of course, “treasure hunting is dirty work, and almost always comes up empty handed.” I give him my friendly determined smile, hoping I selected correctly.
“Getting the appropriate visas, and permissions, bribing officials” I blink as if to add, and……? He takes off his glasses once again, cleans them needlessly. “Setting a network of help just to get transported to the location is a mind numbingly tiresome project in itself.” An additional stage of optical perfection, he holds them up toward the fluorescent to check any missed smears, seems dissatisfied. “And that’s before you even get there,” he decides he has missed some dirt and returns to rubbing them on his handkerchief. “Middle of a place not documented anywhere on any map,” he returns his spectacles to his nose, “Where there’s no documented evidence of any dwelling in no cultures living memory.” He begins counting the difficulties off on each finger in turn. “Bound to be hard terrain, no mobile signal, no rescue, all alone, and on top of that poisonous snakes too, usually.” The Professor tells us returning his hanky back to his pocket, folded neatly first. Shaking my head in a shock of realisation.
“And worse still, no access to tea making facilities!” I try some light-heartedness, “well, ‘adventure' is the one Brownie badge I’m missing, so when do we start?” I say watching his face intently for any signs he is doubtful, I see none.
“Are you seri.....” he looks at my face, I have my resolve look on, I hope he can decipher,
“You are?” Spits the Professor, “then we all go!”
“OK, field trippers,” Daniel interjects “before we get too excited, let’s make a fool-proof plan, Stanley!!” He shouts. Never far away Daniels protector as I’ve come to think of him, steps from the shadows, wearing the smart suit of his uniform of course, dark blue, hands clasped behind his back.
“Daniel?” as if standing to attention awaiting orders, military style. Strange I notice, that I never appreciated how upright he is. I’d suspect he was once a Brownie only he’s a man, and they don’t let those in to my knowledge.
“We need to prepare a little group holiday somewhere between Colombia and Peru,” Daniel begins to dress, starting with pants. “The Doc here will give us a map as soon as he’s done translating me.”
“Nigel,” as he offers Stan his hand, Stan just nods affirmative.
“Consider it done Daniel, and can I add?” He has a fatherly tone to his voice, like he’s been waiting for Daniels mysteries to be solved since he was a boy. “I’ll be glad to find out what all this has been about.” Not used to speaking out of turn Daniel encourages him to finish with a smile, “those drawings are a mystery.” He says this looking only at Daniel.
We all assume Stan means the ink drawings on Daniels body.
“Me too Stan, we tell them about the drawings then?” More a fact than question, Stan nods and pulls sheets of very old paper from his inside suit jacket pocket. “These started appearing in my room when I was a kid,” Daniel explains excitedly taking the leaves from Stan’s outstretched hand, “and I think they might belong to this puzzle, but I was too young and my body was still growing to make a good base for a treasure map.”
The professor grabs the sheets from Daniels proffered hand and immediately begins pouring over their contents. “Yes!” He shouts, “We have a start point for our journey, it’s all here.” He shakes leaves of paper in his tight fist. Moving his acoustic guitar aside to get to the shelves behind, he grabs, large rolled map from a rack on the wall and lays I out on the table top. “Yes, we’d need to...” he runs his finger along the surface of the map, following a route, “start about there….” And the volume decreases and he mumbles to himself once more, engrossed. Making several swift and indecipherable notes in his sketchbook, with a few drawings too.
“Our journey?” Says Daniel, watching Nigel making more and more frantic coded notes in his leather bound sketchbook, excited, talking to himself.
“Well yes,” he looks up from the map, “I’m going with you?” He almost pleads to Daniel, “there may be further translations and studies needed.” He points at the map and the sheaths of papers from Daniels childhood, “translation with the pages, on the way, and route markers for example and I’d be there to help.” His eyes pleading, pointing visibly Nigel deflates with exhaustion from holding his breath in anticipation.
Daniel takes his time to reply, “thank you Professor, we’d be grateful for your help, when can you leave?”
This time from Stan, “I can have the plane ready tomorrow afternoon and your house in the region prepared for our coming.” He says, taking his phone from his pocket, I notice that his too, like mine, has an eagle and ship logo screen saver, strange?
“No Stan,” he puts his palm outward in a stop gesture, “don’t warn anyone we’re coming to the house, just in case.” Clearly he reads Christie too.
“This isn't a Dirk Pitt adventure Daniel where the good guys always win and drink tequila afterward.” I say. “This could be very dangerous.” I look over at Stan for reinforcement.
“I’m not asking you to come Tharie, you’ve got commitments,” Daniel answers sweetly.
“You’re not leaving me behind like some desk jokey, I want in, let me text Jinni to do the horses, I’ll tell her I’ll be gone a week and ask her to buy more cat food too.....” I wander away to finish my complicated message. In the background I hear the boys making plans and list of equipment needed. Stan seems to be taking control, Daniel bowing to his drivers’ greater experience, I wonder if he was Special Forces? My imagination again?
Liza, taps my arm. “You're not really going on this journey are you?” She says to me, “you don’t even know this man, how can you trust him.” In a whisper, “though I understand the appeal…” she gazes over at him, brows raised in appreciation.
“I trust what I know about him” I tell her hoping I sound as sure am I’m attempting to feel.
“And the weekend?” There’s a reason Liza is a champion, she’s focused.
“What about the weekend?” I play innocence.
“Kidding? All that hard work Tharie.” She asks seriously.
“The boys will love a weekend off.” I tell her, she nods in fake understanding, but an idea is beginning to bloom behind her eyes, a plan face, I recognise it. In the background Daniel is dressing back into his black jeans, Doc Martens and Ramones band t-shirt with a Prada shirt worn over it. I miss the naked man suddenly. Stop thinking Tharie, I scold myself. I reconnect with the conversation.
Note to self, learn to concentrate.
“Really?” She asks me, her hand on my arm, a real friend.
“I trust the little I know about him Liza, that’s enough.” I hope I’m right.
Shaking her head she turns to leave us to work, I call out to her, “Liza?” she spins round, an expectant look, “you’re coming with us aren't you?” I ask her.
“Well...I Don’t…”
“Please say yes, we could use your...” my brows rise, “expertise out there, wherever it is we’re headed.” I appeal in the best way I can, “and your horse could use a weekend off too,” but judging by her expression, she’s already considered that possibility, and accepted it. “So, you coming?”
“It’s the Prix St. George Tharie.” There's clearly fighting is going on inside her head, “you need me? No, you mean you might need my skills.” Everyone looks over at us, Daniel takes a step closer so he can hear.
“Yes,” I laugh tilting my head as if to say I give up, “and your anthropological insight too of course, please say you’ll come.” I fake beg her because I already know she won’t be able to resist this incredible opportunity, mental conflict or no. Another Pony Clubber, we just can’t resist a challenge, on horseback or off.
“OK, if you think I can help.” she fake relents in response, she grabs her phone to make arrangements.
“Guys!” I yell, “Liza will come too, she’ll be very helpful, and plus that’ll be two girls.”
TC: “I’m going away for a few days” I’m telling you so you can break it to the matriarch herself.
HC: “Sounds interesting, and very last minute for you, where?” He knows me well.
TC: “Peru I think” sounds as exciting as a tour bus with a rock band?
HC: “Kidding? Peru?” Yes, maybe it is, I’m not sure, its maps again remember?
TC: “Be good” as if.
HC: “OK, I’ll tell Mum” that's what I meant, good boy.
I get another text from the very woman I’d been referring to.
EC: “Shall I expect you at the weekend sometime?” I must be the worst daughter ever.
TC: “Mum, I’ll be going out of the country tomorrow, I’ll have to cancel dinner at the weekend, sorry” fingers crossed.
EC: “Typical, I didn’t get anything special for dinner yet…just in case, I must have known” subtle.
TC: “Sorry Mum” I mean it.
EC: “You know I am your Mother?” how could I forget.
TC: “It’s a work trip” which is almost true
EC: “You’re not going on your own are you?” She always worries about the wrong things.
TC: “I’m going with my boss Mum, and a few people from work” I don’t tell her everything, which would be like inviting her criticism about more of my choices.
EC: “Did you get your haircut? That’s what I mean.
TC: “Not yet, love you”
Note to self, get your bloody haircut.
Back to my Brother, when did family get so complicated? Secretly I love it.
TC: “Really, back in a few days” please tell Mum that, I’ve tried several times.
HC: “See ya Sis Hx”
“Thank you.” In honest appreciation from Daniel, he shakes her hand. She seems embarrassed having seen him naked, “nice…. erm, jeans.” She says instead, eyebrow raised...then I wonder whether asking her along was a good idea. And as if reading my mind Daniel kisses me softly on the lips, in a display of affection.
“So you two have been friends for years?” His eyes look from her to me like a tennis match, asking her.
I answer to head any story about my youth off at the pass, “Liza and I met at school.” I shrug my shoulders as if any normal person would be satisfied with a simplistic explanation.
I am wrong as it turns out and getting close to me his eyes ask me to continue, I don’t respond straight away so he has to reinforce with words, “…and?”
I give up, “we both took the same exercise class twice a week” his twinkle of mischief clear in the liquid surface of his eyes, he’s not letting me off until I tell him more, but I get my stubbornness from my Grandma, she was a pro. Conversation over.
Now, where’s the kettle?