Carey looked reflective. “Yeah – the original Ark of the Covenant is supposed to be in a church back up north at Axum – brought here by Solomon himself. Almost makes you believe there’s something in it all. Well let me tell you, Lali has a kind of feel about it – tranquillity. It’s a strange place all right. It’s kind of hard to explain – you’ve got to experience it yourself. All I can say is that if there are any secrets to be found, Lali’s the place to find ’em.” He took his hand off the gear shift and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I reckon you’re headed in the right direction, mate, I really do.”
Lalibela was smaller and busier than Dracup expected. They drove past a motley collection of ramshackle houses, peaked huts and tin-roofed buildings, Carey skilfully picking his way through the busy streets clogged with wood-carrying women, farmers, pilgrims and holy men.
“Market day,” Carey observed. “Most of this lot will have set off at dawn to get here. They’ll have walked miles.” He pointed to a group trudging the last few steps to their destination, some pulling makeshift carts behind them, others carrying bags of produce.
Carey swung the jeep around, beeping the horn. Dracup drummed his fingers on the dash. As the jeep pulled up in front of the hotel Dracup was already swinging himself out, one hand on his bag.
“No, let me, boss! Nothing a problem, okay?”
Dracup turned to see a boy of around eleven grinning up at him.
“No problem. Mister let me take the bag.”
Dracup patted his pockets and made an empty-handed gesture.
Carey dispensed a few words in the boy’s direction; he shrugged dismissively in response, throwing back a few choice words of his own. He turned his back on Carey and made as if to leave them in peace, but couldn’t resist a last-ditch attempt. Dracup smiled at his persistence.
“Come on, boss.” He fixed Dracup with a persuasive grin. “I can help you out, man.”
“A bo teu weun!” Carey aimed a kick. The boy yelped and ran off, shouting and waving his fist.
“I take it he’s not wishing you a nice day.” Dracup watched the boy until he disappeared from view.
“Give ’em an inch and they’ll take a hundred miles,” Carey warned. “Do anything if you cross their palm. Trouble is, once you say yes you never get rid of ’em.”
Dracup’s bedroom window overlooked Lalibela’s rooftops and beyond these the distant mountains. The view was spectacular, the contoured peaks undulating like waves across the Ethiopian plains. The sheer immensity of the landscape reminded him of India. His boyhood seemed closer in this climate, the connecting years of adulthood pressed into a dim, grey background. Dracup retrieved his grandfather’s tablet from the suitcase and scanned the markings.
Loc. Remaining part staff, trad. Ethiop.
Ityopp’is – Cush – sn of Ham- fnded Axum.
Match. crest. Lal., Ω 1921, TD,GRC. Left in situ.
Formed basis of expo. 1922 C of Tr.
K. zig. - 7 by 7
1921. Left in situ. Dracup clung to the phrase. Eleven churches to choose from. Or maybe what he was looking for lay hidden elsewhere, perhaps not even here in Lalibela. He drew out a photograph from his pocket. Natasha’s face smiled back at him, small hands clasping her favourite teddy. He had spent a fruitless hour showing the image to the locals. Every approach had produced the same reaction. Dracup didn’t understand the language but simply read the faces. Pretty girl. Yes. Very pretty. Then a sad shake of the head, a sympathetic smile. No. Sorry. I haven’t seen her. He kissed the photograph and replaced it carefully in his breast pocket. Eleven churches. A lot of space to cover. Dracup set his mouth in a determined line. A one in eleven chance was as good as he was likely to get, and there was no time to lose. He needed answers and he needed them now.
Chapter 22
“Sara!” Natasha ran to her, leaving Ruth and Jassim behind. Sara hugged the child, dreading the next question. When it came she tried to smile confidently.
“Is Daddy here?”
She saw the warning look on Ruth’s face. “Not yet, Natasha.” She ignored the disappointed, questioning look and pressed on. “And how are you? What do you think of all this?” Sara lifted her arm and swept it in an expansive movement towards the worked stone roof.
“It’s a bit spooky, but I like it mostly. I miss Mummy.”
Sara looked at Ruth, then Jassim. Their faces were inscrutable. Had Jassim heard of their altercation?
They walked on towards the east passages where Ruth had her quarters. Sara decided to tackle the problem head-on. “Ruth, we must talk.” One arm wrapped protectively around Natasha, she touched Ruth’s shoulder. To her surprise, Ruth’s face softened. She took Sara’s offered hand and clasped it.