The Deceit

51

‘I never even knew there was a collection here,’ said Karen, gazing across the sunny quadrangle. They were sitting on the great stone steps, almost alone. The college was largely deserted because of the Easter holidays.

Ryan nodded. ‘It’s the third biggest collection of Egyptian antiquities in the world. Flinders-Petrie gave it all to UCL.’ He reached and fumbled for his plastic cup of coffee on the granite steps; Karen found it and handed it to him, wrapping his fingers around the cup.

With a smile, Ryan thanked her. ‘I have partial sight now. It’s no longer improving, but it’s better than total blindness.’ He gestured at the classical buildings to their left. ‘We have the earliest example of metal from all of ancient Egypt, two magnificent lions from the temple of Min at Coptos, and a fine pair of socks from Alexandria. Probably Roman.’

Karen said, ‘You like working here.’

‘Yes I do. And of course, this is where I attended Sassoon’s lectures, which is poignant.’

Karen gazed at him. It was four months since the explosion. ‘Obviously you’re not going to go back to Egypt?’

‘Even if they’d let me in? No. I couldn’t function anyway.’

‘And Helen?’

‘She’s fine, she’s great. She looks after me. We have very little money, but we are OK.’

‘That’s good.’ Karen hesitated, then pressed on. ‘The blindness. It was meant to be irreversible. And terminal. You were meant to die?’

Ryan sipped his coffee. ‘Yes, but we worked this out. Acts, Chapter Nine.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Saul, the persecutor of Christians, is visited by a flaming vision of God. “And Saul arose from the earth; and when his eyes were opened, he saw no man: but they led him by the hand, and brought him into Damascus. And he was three days without sight …” But then a few days later he is visited by the Holy Ghost. “And immediately there fell from his eyes as it had been scales: and he received sight forthwith, and arose, and was baptized.”’ Ryan shrugged. ‘It seems the blindness of the conversion experience can be temporary, even reversible. Or maybe it really is a miracle? Maybe God works through the God Parasite. How can we know?’ He acknowledged her expression of surprise. ‘Yes. The irony of it all is that I do believe. The parasite has done its work. And belief is good. I like it.’ He sighed, but not unhappily. ‘Anyway, Herzog lied. Guess he just wanted me in his lab to test his parasite-killer, the parasiticide, the one he intended to use against the faithful.’

The traffic of Bloomsbury rumbled beyond the railings. Ryan added, ‘What’s more, I can use disabled parking bays. So it’s not all bad, not at all. Especially when you consider the alternative.’

Karen gently smiled. ‘I suppose that’s true.’ She reached in her bag. ‘By the way, I mustn’t forget this: it’s one reason I wanted to see you.’

He was gazing at her, frowning; she hurried on.

‘You know we are still sifting the evidence at Rescorla, at the site of the explosion? Well, we found this digital camera. It was in the burned remains of Helen’s bag. It looks quite intact, and it seems to work. We’ve finished with it, certainly for the moment.’

She handed it over, placing it carefully in his hands. Ryan squinted at the camera, with an astonished expression.

The pause was slightly awkward. Perhaps it was time to go.

Ryan threaded his arm through hers, and they strolled towards the gates of the quad.

‘Eleanor is good?’

‘She is. We’re going down to Cornwall, for Easter.’ Karen checked her watch. ‘I’m picking her up from the childminder’s, we’re meeting the cousins down there. Should be a nice break.’

Ryan smiled. ‘I’d like to have kids one day.’

‘I hope you do. They are the very worst and very best thing that can happen to you. At the same time.’

For a few moments, the two of them chatted about families and children. Then Ryan frowned. ‘By the way, how is Zara Parkinson?’

‘She’s fine. Considering. Traumatized of course, but alive.’

‘That’s good.’

‘She owes her life to you.’

Ryan shook his head. ‘No, she doesn’t … I just … did what I could. I still wonder why Rothley didn’t try and escape, once he’d lost the girl.’

Karen nodded. ‘It is a bit strange. Best guess is he was just crazy, in the end — handling all those parasites, it must have got to him. We’d have liked to test his body for antigens, but there isn’t a lot to go on; in fact, nothing. He was vaporized. It happens with big explosions.’ Another silence. Less awkward, but a silence. It really was time to leave.

They said their goodbyes and Karen stepped into the urban melee of Gower Street. Her car was parked very close, by the university library. Turning the ignition, she drove to the childminder’s, collected an excited and chirruping Eleanor, and they began the five-hour journey to Cornwall.

Leaving the day before Good Friday meant the traffic was not too bad. So they arrived at twilight, cresting the hill at Carbis Bay just in time to see the sun setting over St Ives, where she and Eleanor — and Alan and Julie and the twins — had all rented a holiday apartment.

The following day dawned blue and fine. Ideal weather for a picnic on Maenporth Beach.

The children played on the sands in the sun, writing their names with big sticks. Karen sat on the blanket and chatted with Alan and Julie. As the kids chased the surf, Karen turned and gazed at the cliffs behind, where a small Cornish chapel, ancient and humble, stood in its seaside graveyard.

She recalled the comparison she had once made, between chapels and tin mines, both remnants of an exhausted industry, the ruins of what was no more.

But was that true?

This morning she had read in the local paper a report that claimed there was, supposedly, more tin under Cornwall still waiting to be mined than all the tin taken out so far. It was just inaccessible.

But one day they might find a way to tap into the seams.