“For a girl?”
“For a….I was going to say for a….” he trailed off as he couldn’t think of the right thing to say.
“Don’t underestimate me Mr Dennis. I can take care of myself.”
“It’s not me you have to worry about. I think it’s George.”
“George?” she sounded surprised. Then in a softer voice she said.
“George is a darling really. He feels very protective over me though I frequently remind him it’s not necessary. He loves his wife very much.”
“What’s she like?”
“Small, hard working, short tempered, especially around him. Not pretty.”
“What about your boss?”
Natalie glanced across at Hutchinson who was now at the sandwich vendor. The construction workers now sitting on empty pallets eating their breakfast nearby.
“Jim is lovely, and his wife Carol. Jim was lecturing at university while I was a student and he took me under his wing. He’s the kindest person I’ve ever met. I like his long suffering wife Carol very much.”
“Long suffering?”
“Jim is married to Carol but more in love with his work. She told me once that in all the decades they’ve been married she could count the number of years he’d actually been home on one hand.”
“Poor woman.”
“What about all the others in your team?”
“Jack and Tom have love affairs with whichever holiday reps are put on the island for the summer. These poor girls go back home after the season thinking they’ve found love or the right ‘one’ only to find that the next time they ring they’ve been dumped.”
“And what about you Natalie. Have you ever found the right one?”
“I’ve never really looked. I’ve had relationships. They’ve all ended. None ever really serious. My career has always gotten in the way.”
Dennis looked out over the water.
“Mine too. I’ve never stayed in any one place long enough.”
“There must have been someone, somewhere.”
“Oh a few. Here, there, just casual flings like yourself, nothing serious.”
Then suddenly, quite unexpectedly, he turned to her and said.
“I must admit Natalie I think I’m falling for you.”
This came as a shock to her.
“What? What did you say?”
Dennis hadn’t meant to say it. It had just slipped out.
“I….I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. Please excuse me.”
She reached out and touched his arm.
“No really, I’m glad you did.”
Their eyes met. Then he was coming in. His lips slightly apart. His eyes on her lips. They were full, sensuous. Her heart was thumping. Her eyes closed. The kiss sent tingles down her spine. They were about to embrace when a voice from behind said.
“Now here we are.”
It was Hutchinson. In his hands a tray of sandwiches, wraps and coffee. Natalie and Dennis smiled, embarrassed, at each other.
“I’ve bought us a selection of sandwiches. There is beef, chicken, cheese. I think that one on the end is turkey. Help yourselves. Natalie and Dennis thanked him and took a sandwich each.
“Grab yourselves a coffee too. George is bringing over bottles of water.”
“Thank you Jim,” Natalie said.
She looked out over the port at the various docked vessels. There was one Greek cruise ship, ferries for the island of Djerba, one very old naval vessel, a gift from the British government. It was in desperate need of a refit and repair. Tunisian naval vessels, much smaller than their British naval counterpart. Various fishing ships, having returned from night fishing, their crews working frantically to unload their catch for the early morning markets. Alone at the far end was a large ship painted white with Russian writing at its bow. At its stern a large crane.
“Our ship, the Volante, is the white one moored away from the others,” Hutchinson told them. He had put the tray down and was now unrolling himself a wrap. He placed his coffee on the roof of the people carrier.
“We’re just waiting for the port authorities to check our passports. They’ll return them after photocopying and then we can move over to the ship. The crew are already on board. They all speak English but how well I don’t know but they’re there to assist you in any way they can so feel free to ask them for anything,” Hutchinson stopped as he glanced around and saw a man in naval uniform approaching carrying a large white envelope, “If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Hutchinson walked off to meet the customs man halfway.
Dennis whistled at the size of the research ship. It was easily over a hundred feet long.
“He doesn’t do anything by halves does he. How much does that cost to hire a day?”
“Oh you mustn’t worry yourself about things like that Mr Dennis,” Natalie said “The institute pays for everything, even those sandwiches we’ve just had.”
“I’m not worried. I’m just….I guess I’m starting to realise for the first time just the scale of this venture.”
“That surprises me considering you wrote that article on it.”
“I know,” he said feeling foolish, “I didn’t mean that it’s just,” he was struggling to explain himself, standing there by the waters edge, “Do you realise that I could be standing in the very same spot my grandfather stood in with the German Colonel all those years ago.”
He moved a few feet to his left.
“Or could it have been here or here or maybe where you’re standing.”
Dennis stopped talking. He tried to imagine the scene. His eyes closed. The sound of gunfire. The British storming the Medina. The final showdown. Johnny Larder there somewhere, where the warehouses now stood, on the ground next to Koenig. That madman Wurtz standing over them. Johnny and Koenig staring down the SS Major’s gun barrel, staring into death. ‘Then miraculously my grandfather saving them with seconds to spare’
“I’m sorry what did you say?”
“I asked you if the German Colonel is still alive.”
“No he’s not. I was able to do some research on him. It was very brief. There were so many officers on both sides. It’s only the really famous ones who can be found in search engines. The Colonel was a Hans Koenig serving directly under a General Von Brockhorst. There was lots of information on him, the General. He served a General Hans Jurgen Von Arnim. He was Field Marshall Rommel’s number one. The leader of the archaeological team was a Werner Von Brest, Doctor Werner Von Brest. I found lots on him. He was Hitler’s personal friend. The top archaeologist of his generation according to the internet. He is listed as being killed in the battle for Gabes, Tunisia. He actually went down with the ship we are looking for. The Colonel, Hans Koenig, I was surprisingly able to find some information on him also. He returned to Germany in 1947 after being held prisoner until the end of the war. He became a schoolteacher and then quickly became headmaster. Tragically his life was cut short in 1952 when he was killed in a car accident. The rest of the captured Germans knew nothing about the identity of the sarcophagus. After Koenig’s death my grandfather was the only survivor to know. He told me on his death bed that he’d never spoken of it ever again. You see my grandfather wasn’t interested in history. He didn’t properly understand the importance of what the Germans had found. He told me he thought Alexander was a Roman or something.”
Natalie giggled into her hand.
“Oh excuse me, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make fun.”
“That’s all right. He was quite naive about certain things. I guess this was one of them at the time.”
“Bless him.”
“Yes,” Dennis said remembering Alf, “You know,” he continued, “When someone special dies, at the time the pain can sometimes be unbearable and then as time goes by and the sorrow eases you find you just love them, that person, for who they really were.”