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Stanley led Doll over to the bath, and held her hand as she stepped into it.

Mossop then called out to Stanley, ‘Morton, kneel behind the bath. It will mask your lower half.’

The actor did so, and the rolled edge of the hip-bath all but obscured his breeches. He looked naked. Stanley flicked some imaginary water at Doll, just as in the cartoon, and they recited their lines, Stanley first.

‘“Ah, Eve, you are to blame;

To this you enticed me -

My body gives me shame;

For I am naked, it seems to me.”’

Then it was Doll’s turn as Eve.

‘“Alas! Oh, Adam, so am I!”’

That was as far as she got, for she burst into a fit of the giggles, and covered her breasts with her hands. Mossop rushed down to the front of the stage.

‘Eve! Doll, what is the matter?’

Doll could not stop her laughter, merely pointing into the wings. Everyone turned to see what had amused her. The hot faces of the two young stagehands, formerly agog at Doll’s nakedness, suddenly disappeared into the darkness.

That interlude proved the highlight of a long and arduous day’s rehearsal. When the only short break they did have arrived, Doll was steered to one side by Étienne Quatremain, and Malinferno was left to talk to William Bankes. It could have been very enlightening for Malinferno, as he knew Bankes too was a student of hieroglyphics, but the man seemed distracted by Morton Stanley’s deliberate avoidance of him. The actor first complained to Mossop about some minor matter, then deliberately joined Quatremain and Doll rather than talk to Bankes or Malinferno. Bankes was obviously put out, and all he did in response to Malinferno’s questions about the obelisk he had brought back from Egypt was wave a hand and sigh. Malinferno was actually glad when the rehearsal began again in earnest.

Soon, only Doll, Morton, Perceval and Harry were left onstage, and the auditorium was empty but for Malinferno. All the other onlookers, including Bankes, Bromhead and Quatremain had long since gone, driven out by the tedium of actors repeating the same scenes and words over and over again. Mossop had been particularly irritated by Morton Stanley, who seemed unable to remember his words from one run-through to the next. At one point Mossop stalked towards Malinferno cursing under his breath, and making his feelings clear.

‘I would get rid of him if I could. In fact I would murder him, if only I had a replacement.’

But he concealed his annoyance, and patiently called out to the actors to begin again.

Malinferno eventually gave up too, and returned to Creechurch Lane, where he sat down on one of the creaky chairs and awaited Doll’s return. When evening drew on, he sent out for chops and gravy, which a skinny boy delivered on a tray almost as big as he was. But there was no sign of Doll, and Malinferno did not feel like eating alone. Both meals eventually lay cold and congealed on their respective plates. He looked to pass the time until Doll’s return with some more research into hieroglyphs, but was unable to find his notebook. He assumed Doll had misplaced it, as it was she who had been scribbling in it the previous evening. He remembered because she had been excited and had wanted to show him something, but he had been too sulky. He wished he had let her reveal her secret now.

When she finally came in, and flopped on the other chair, much to its creaky consternation, he taxed her with the missing notebook. She flapped a hand wearily.

‘Lawks, Joe, I don’t know where it is. My brain is all a muddle of “move stage right” and “avoid masking the other actor”. Why can’t they use plain English in the theatre?’

Malinferno knew he was being a little hard on her, and knew why too. He was resentful how Doll had become the centre of attention lately, on stage and over the cracking of the hieroglyphic code. But that didn’t stop him chiding her.

‘You had the book last. Where did you put it?’

Doll sighed, knowing that, when Joe was in this sort of mood, he would not give up. She got up and crossed the room.

‘I hid it behind the sherry bottle. I put it there for safety. That sherry-wine is so awful no one would go near it.’

She groped behind the dark brown bottle in question.

‘It’s not there.’

Malinferno groaned. ‘I know it’s not there. That was the first place I looked. It is my hidy-hole too, after all.’

Doll’s face lost the grey weariness that had spoiled her looks when she entered the room. She was now concerned, and peered sharply at the shelf where the bottle stood.

‘The bottle’s been moved. Look, you can see its original sticky ring on the shelf. The bottle is not where it was before. And I had an idea about the bird symbol I wanted to share with you.’ She looked around the room. ‘The papyrus sheets have been disturbed too. I left them stacked up at the back of the table. The one with the cartouche I copied into the notebook was on the top.’ She shuffled through the crackling sheets. ‘It’s gone. The one with the cartouche is gone.’

Malinferno held his head in his hands.

‘All my notes… and yours… gone. We shall have to start again.’ He looked up at his worried companion. ‘What was the idea you had that you wanted to tell me last night?’

‘Oh, yes. The bird symbol. I think Young was wrong, and if you substituted an “a” for the “ke”, you had-’

Suddenly, Doll held a finger to her lips. Joe looked at her quizzically, and she pointed at the door to their rooms.

‘The stairs creaked. There is someone out there,’ she whispered in his ear.

Malinferno tiptoed to the door, and with a glance at Doll, flung it open.

‘Oh, sir, sorry, is your meal finished. I’ve come to fetch the plates.’

It was the chop-house boy, come back with his vast tray, which he now held like a shield. Doll laughed, and ushered him in.

‘The meal, I am afraid, is uneaten. But you can take it away.’ She scanned his skinny frame. ‘Do you think you could find someone who could eat it up, all cold and congealed as it is?’

The boy’s eyes widened at the feast on offer, and nodded eagerly. Once he had cleared all the crockery and left the room, Malinferno turned the key in the lock of the living room door. It was too late, but he knew he would feel safer with no possibility of further intrusions. He still wanted to know Doll’s theory, though, and followed her to the bedroom. But she was already snoring by the time he entered.

The month end had come, and with August arrived, there were only three more days to go before curtain up on The Play of Adam. Rehearsals at the Royal Coburg Theatre were taking on a very serious mood. It was Friday, and the hangers-on were no longer in attendance. Even Malinferno had avoided going, but then he had other concerns. He was trying to resurrect his and Doll’s notes on the papyrus documents, especially the one with the cartouche on it that Doll had almost deciphered. He wracked his brains to recall the sequence of letters she had noted down. Was it ‘-OLT I M KE-KE’? That didn’t look right, but the letters were borrowed from the ones assumed to spell out Ptolemy. He scribbled something else down – ‘-OLE I P KE-KE’. Yes, that was it. It didn’t make sense, but then she had wanted to substitute another letter for the final two. The trouble was, he couldn’t recall what the letter was. He began to retrace his steps through other papyri, searching for other cartouches – those little clusters of hieroglyphs that were supposed to be names from the past. He reached for a damp cloth to cool his throbbing head.

One of the young stagehands hadn’t bothered turning up to the rehearsal, and Jed Lawless had sent a message to the theatre saying that he himself was sick. Will Mossop assumed it was a hangover. Lawless drank too much gin, and he had a mind to fire him again. The trouble was, Lawless knew the ropes inside out at the Royal Coburg – literally. The ropes and pulleys that raised and lowered the backcloths and the counterweighted ropes used to cause actors to seem to fly were Lawless’s private domain. No one knew them better, and besides, he was the best stage manager this side of the river. Mossop was aware that firing him would necessitate re-hiring him the following day. And that would be an exercise in humiliation for Will that he did not wish to undertake.