Page 44 of Sacrifice
Twenty-Four
Eve’s lifeseemed to have become a weird parody of itself. From the mundane day-to-day, which had verged on bleak, now she was riding so high, she hardly dared to look down. The new responsibility of the exhibition, attending the charity ball, the Paris trip in all its wonderful detail, and the incredible sexual relationship building between her and the billionaire renowned archaeologist, Lucien Knight, all added up to an unprecedented life change that left Eve’s head spinning. All that and the bizarre connection she had experienced with some of the artefacts. Ishtar’s crown and the Venus dagger had both brought about alternate mental states. How and why was a mystery she was still processing.
She hadn’t seen Lucien for a few days. He was, of course, extraordinarily busy, Eve knew that. Obviously, he had more important things to do than spend time with her, but over the week that had elapsed since their return from Paris, she had not seen him even once. After the incredibly intense weekend they’d spent together, it was a wrench.
She was trying not to be unnerved.
Lucien burned so dazzlingly bright in her otherwise dull life; it had blinded her.
He’s turned your head,she said to herself. It was just the sort of thing her grandmother would say, Eve realized, and her conscience stung. It had been a good long while since Eve had visited her gran, and she thought touching base with normality could be just what she needed. The Saturday afternoon that, ordinarily, would have seen her chained to the museum gift shop, in her new role opened out before her, free and clear.
Granny Joan lived in an Edwardian villa a short hop from Camden station and a long way from where you might expect to find an octogenarian. Still as happy to mill about with the crowds surrounding the market as she was to sip at a gin and tonic in the garden of the pub by the lock, Gran was an elegant addition to the tie-dyed masses and didn’t mind a bit that she stuck out like a sore thumb.
Today, Eve trailed behind her as she watered the many plants in her conservatory. Eve’s job; to wipe dust from leaves as and when instructed.
“That one’s a bit tall for me,” Gran said, wafting a hand at the upper leaves of a rubber plant. “They’re so much happier if they can suck up the light.” She gave Eve a little pat on her forearm and moved on to water the next pot along.
“Looks pretty happy to me already,” Eve said and gave it a polish. “In fact, I’d say there’s not a pissed off plant in here.”
The entire space was jam-packed with frothing ferns, long spiky leaved yucca types and abundantly flowering orchids, their tentacle-like roots escaping from pots to trail in staccato loops to table-tops. Eve didn’t know much about plants, but she knew a happy indoor garden when she saw one.
Granny Joan smiled around herself happily, “Yes, I do seem to have a bit of a knack. It’s all about getting the location right with plants, isn’t it, so the sun can find them in the right way? Knowing what they want, that’s the thing, what they like. Eitheryou’ve got it or you haven’t.” She picked up one of Eve’s hands and examined the fingers.
“Nothing green there,” she said. “Never mind.” Gran grinned, her cheeks rounding into marshmallow-soft balls. She chucked Eve under her chin.
It was a standing joke. Eve didn’t own a single plant, and Gran always ribbed her about it. Eve didn’t get what the fuss was about. “So, how’ve you been?” she asked, changing the subject.
Gran strode to the other side of the room and picked wilting flowers from an orchid. “W.I. had their winter whist drive last week, which was a bit of a giggle, and I brought home one of Betty’s apple cakes.” She pulled an expression of longing at the thought of it. “But blah blah blah, I want to hear about you. Your mum tells me you’ve got a wonderful new job at the museum.”
“Yeah.”
Being asked to talk about it brought an uncomfortable fluttering to Eve’s chest. Gran had always had an inconvenient ability to see right through her. She steeled herself for cross examination.
“There’s a particular benefactor funding an exhibit on rituals to the gods. A lot of middle eastern content, so right up my alley. Almost like it was made for me, really.” Eve turned her eyes away from her grandmother and ran them around the room. He’s very enthusiastic. I’ve already accompanied him to Paris and a ball at the Dorchester to help secure exhibits.”
You’re babbling. Stop babbling.
Eve flicked her eyes to Gran. She was watching her from beneath arched eyebrows.
“Oh, yes? Pay rise?”
“No. Not yet. its early days. I’m still proving myself.”
“Well, don’t let them take advantage of you. I bet this promise of a better job has got you working twice as hard already. Don’t be suckered by the patriarchy.”
“Oh no,” Eve allowed herself a little smile, “Lucien would never take advantage.” She bit her lip, thinking about their exploits in Paris.
Gran rolled her eyes. “Lucien, is it? Bit of a looker? Well, you can’t really help it. UsKarimiwomen have always had a soft spot for the men. You take after me.”
Eve choked out a laugh. “Granny! I don’t know what you mean.”
“Okey dokey. Whatever you say.” She made for the door, back into the house, silky kaftan swishing out behind her. “Tea? And maybe a bit of that apple cake.”
She cut quite a pace through the house to the kitchen and Eve dragged along in her wake, not entirely sure if she wanted to catch up.
How does she do that?
Eve dawdled through the living room, running the duster over already polished furniture, and avoiding her grandmother’s inquisitive gaze. She picked up framed photos as she passed to give them a buff and lingered on one of Gran in her heyday.
