Dracup returned his attention to the letters, but his mind refused to cooperate. What if he had been in England? What if Natasha had been at home? What if Yvonne had answered the phone when he had called from the hotel? What if –
“Hey.” Sara sat on the arm of his chair. “She’ll be all right, Simon. It’ll be okay.” She squeezed his shoulder and withdrew her hand as Dracup gave a gasp of pain. “Sorry, I forgot.”
“It’s just bruising.” Dracup ran his hand through Sara’s hair. She was so beautiful. He wished he could share her optimism. He looked at the pile of letters and rubbed his eyes; a dull, throbbing headache was taking root in his temple. He pushed his chair back and took Sara’s hand in his. “I need to maintain focus. Keep occupied.”
“Well, there’s no shortage of material here. I’ve never seen so much packed into a bureau.” Sara waved a rubber-banded sheaf of papers. “Look at this lot.”
“Anything so far?”
“There’s some old photos – nothing unusual. It would help if I knew what I was looking for.”
“Let’s see.” Dracup took the bundle and quickly flicked through the photographs. “Yes. This is my grandfather – Theodore.” He held the photo up for inspection. The faded image showed a frail-looking man in his early thirties sitting in a chair by a garden pond. A young woman had a hand on his shoulder, smiling bravely for the camera although it was clear that all was not well with the sitting figure. He looked old before his time, hunched and defeated. “That’s my aunt standing next to him,” Dracup said. “This must have been at the old house – my grandfather’s – after he was institutionalized. She used to take him home at weekends. She felt it gave him some dignity. And she was sure that he felt at peace there.”
Sara took a long look at the photograph. “She has a kind face – a family trait, obviously.” She looked at Dracup and the photograph in turn.
“I don’t know about that,” Dracup said. “I can be very unpleasant when push comes to shove.”
“Usually when you’re hungry, I seem to remember,” Sara said. “Shall I slip down to the corner shop? And Farrell, make yourself useful –see if you can get a fire going. There must be a few logs in the garden – some coal in the bunker. Something tells me this is going to be a long haul.”
Farrell nodded. “Sure. I’ll walk you down when you’re ready. Leave the fire to me.” He left the room and they heard his footsteps on the stairs. The front door opened and closed.
“He’s driving me up the wall,” Sara said with a grimace. “Our all-American high school baseball star.”
Dracup raised his eyebrows. “I think he likes you, though... Anyway, I’m happy to have him around. We’re not the only ones interested in Theodore’s legacy.”
They settled around the small table. Dracup studied the American closely. How much did he know? He swallowed a mouthful of egg and opened with a general question. “Tell me, Farrell; are you up to speed with the 1920 expedition?”
“Yes sir. Mr Potzner has briefed me.”
“Surprised that the Ark was found?” Dracup kept his voice conversational and pleasant. Hopefully Farrell would come out with something useful.
Farrell finished his eggs and wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. He looked at Dracup and Sara in turn. “Well, you know, sir; I was brought up in the Southern states. I was right there in Sunday school from way back. I remember the stories we used to hear about Noah and all. I didn’t think a lot of it at the time, ’cause, you know, when you’re a kid, you kind of believe what the adults are telling you. There’s that trust that they’re telling you the truth. But when you get a little older, you begin to question it, you know what I mean?” He reached over and popped a can of coke.
Dracup nodded. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“And then, I remember one weekend we had this visiting preacher come to our church. He spoke about the Ark and I remember thinking – wow, that’s not how I understood it at all before.”
“What was different?” Sara asked.
“Well, ma’am, he began by explaining the shape and size of this thing. People have kind of a funny notion that it was a little houseboat with giraffe poking their heads up an’ all. But it wasn’t like that. Not anyhow.”
Dracup’s curiosity was aroused, his cutlery idle on the plate.
Sara prodded him with a fork. “Eat. It’ll go cold.”
He resumed the meal automatically, waved his knife at Farrell. “Go on.”