Sweet and Bright took forever deciding on an appetizer; I had already ordered so I had leisure to inspect the room. The murals covering the walls were copies of famous tomb reliefs – not scenes of death and judgement, but bright, cheerful depictions of birds and animals and scenes of daily life. The one on the wall next to our table showed two pretty Egyptian maidens with long black hair and diaphanous robes, playing musical instruments. The third pretty maiden wasn’t wearing anything except a few beads. Sweet goggled appreciatively at her.

Jen was speaking to me. I turned to her with an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry, I was admiring the murals. They are excellent copies, aren’t they?’

‘Morbid,’ Jen said decidedly. ‘Pictures from tombs are not suitable for a dining room.’

Her lips had tightened and her brows had drawn together. It was a forbidding expression, and I remembered a comment John had made about his mother: ‘She looks like Judith Anderson playing a demented housekeeper.’ The wild surmise that entered my mind was equally demented. Ridiculous, I told myself. Chicanery isn’t hereditary.

Sweet had finished ordering. ‘But Mrs Tregarth, the paintings show the Egyptians’ enjoyment of the pleasures of life. What could be more appropriate for such an occasion as this?’ Jen turned The Look on him; he swallowed and said, ‘People are much more interesting though, aren’t they? Tell us about yourself, Dr Bliss.’

‘I will if you will,’ I said coyly. ‘What business are you in, Mr Sweet?’

He manufactured nuts and bolts. Very special nuts and bolts, for a specific kind of machine. Don’t ask me what kind. I was no more interested than Mr Sweet appeared to be. After rattling off a description of the process, he explained that he and Mr Bright were partners in business as well as in their passion for archaeology. ‘When we heard of this cruise we knew it was an opportunity not to be missed,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘To see so many sites that are normally closed to tourists, and of course the pièce de résistance – the tomb of Queen Tetisheri. We are the first visitors to behold the restoration of the paintings. The work has taken years – ’

‘And a great deal of money that might have been spent on more worthy causes,’ said Jen, with a loud sniff.

‘Mr Blenkiron has contributed munificently to a number of worthy causes,’ Sweet protested.

‘That is a matter of opinion,’ Jen said. An opinion, her expression made clear, that she did not share.

‘Is he here? Which one is he?’ I swivelled around.

‘Don’t stare,’ Jen said.

My head snapped back into position. It was pure reflex – shades of Aunt Ermintrude. Sweet gave me a wink and a knowing smile. ‘We are all staring,’ he said amiably. ‘It’s only natural, Mrs Tregarth, that we should take an interest in our fellow travellers. For long weeks we will be together in a little world all our own, separated from our friends and families, thrown together in an artificial intimacy. Which of these strangers is to be cultivated, which to be avoided? Will some of these passing encounters result in lasting friendships, or even in – er – more intense relationships?’