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‘Ah.’ The look on Jolene’s face as she nodded said it all. ‘He’s still not keen on you going?’
Freya shook her head. ‘I think he’s rather hoping I don’t get it.’
Jolene nodded in agreement. ‘The thing is, though, it’s only three months. Perhaps you’ll get it out of your system.’
They both stared at each other and shared a knowing smile. There would be no getting it out of her system. Freya loved her job. She wanted to be a museum curator. That was her dream, but more than that, she wanted to go to Alexandria, visit the library and the Alexandria National Museum and learn how the curators in the world-famous museum catalogued their precious inventory. She’d read about their vast collection of artefacts – almost two thousand. If she had the opportunity, she wanted to visit the museum in Cairo too.
‘I’m on my way up to the dean now – she’s called me to her office.’
‘I’d say it’s in the bag, wouldn’t you?’
Freya put her clipboard down on the long wooden table in the middle of the room. ‘I hope so.’ She thought it boded well. She was meant to be getting an email confirmation. The fact that she’d been summoned to the dean’s office made it seem more official. She imagined there would be paperwork to complete, things to sign to set up a visitor pass or visas, or whatever was required for her trip. She looked at her watch. ‘God, I’m so excited!’
Jolene laughed. ‘I bet you are. Why don’t you head off and I’ll finish up here?’
She glanced at her clipboard and frowned. ‘Sorry, there’s so much to do. We were supposed to get some extra help down here, but no one has materialised. There was talk of an intern for a few weeks over the summer, but that didn’t happen.’
Jolene nodded. ‘I remember. Now it’s February already and still they haven’t found anyone.’ The university had been loaned a collection of artefacts for a special exhibition in the museum. It was extra work they could all do without, so they desperately needed another pair of hands.
It was quite wonderful that an eminent Egyptian professor from Alexandria, who must have had some ties to the university, had thought of their museum when he’d sent the artefacts over to England. Unfortunately, the timing hadn’t been great. Freya, although only part-time, knew they couldn’t really afford to lose her while she was on secondment. They would not only have to find someone to replace her, but yet another person to help with the workload.
Freya’s expression darkened. ‘I thought there would have been no shortage of applicants.’
‘Yes, but then it’s not like the university has advertised the position.’
‘Oh, really?’
‘Strange isn’t it?’ said Jolene.
‘I’ll say.’
‘I only found out because I saw someone take down a poster in the student union, and they said the position was no longer available.’
Freya frowned. ‘That’s odd.’ They both shook their heads and glanced around the cavernous, warehouse-like room, taking in the crates of artefacts that had travelled all the way from Egypt and were still waiting to be unpacked. It would take a lot of work to get them all catalogued and put on display. Despite knowing she was needed there, Freya still wanted to go on the secondment.
Freya looked at the time. ‘Well, I’m off now.’ She handed Jolene the clipboard with the list of the inventory. ‘I’ll be back soon to help out.’ Freya had no idea how long she’d be. She imagined the dean would run through her itinerary, working out what flights she’d need to book and where she’d stay in Alexandria – although she knew the university there had student accommodation. It was all too exciting.
Freya took the hairband out of her long brown hair, nipped into the ladies’ toilets outside in the hall, and ran a brush through her hair before she made her way upstairs. She felt as though she was going for an interview. She knew she wasn’t, but she still wanted to look her best. She glanced at her reflection, checking her mascara and eyeliner hadn’t smudged around her large chocolate-brown eyes. A dab of lipstick and a little blusher was all she needed. Like Jolene, she had freckles, but they didn’t show as much, as she didn’t have her best friend’s fair complexion. Freya had always tanned easily, and when she was younger and had spent her summers in France, she had always come back looking as though she’d been somewhere hotter, like the Far East.
Freya smiled. ‘That’ll do.’ She put her hairbrush back in her bag, wishing she’d worn something other than her dungarees, a t-shirt, and a black hoodie. Her outfit was comfortable and practical for her work down in the basement of the museum, but if she’d known she would be called to the dean’s office today, she would have chosen something different.
Almost immediately after stepping out of the ladies’ toilets, Freya was back again, putting her hair up with the hairband, thinking that with her outfit she’d look a bit more professional if she put her hair up. She pursed her lips. She’d had an idea, but she’d have to be quick.
‘What are we doing?’ Jolene said a moment later, after Freya had returned and dragged her back into the toilets. ‘Look, I need to borrow your outfit.’
Jolene looked at her. ‘What outfit?’
Freya looked at her friend. Jolene was taller than her, and slimmer, but it might just work.
‘Wait – you want to wear this?’ Jolene gestured at her clothes.
A few moments later, they’d changed into each other’s outfits, and Freya was standing in front of the mirror, smiling at Jolene, who was standing behind her. The dungarees were too short for her long legs, and the hoodie was hanging off her slender frame.
Freya turned around. ‘What do you think?’ Jolene had been wearing office-style grey trousers and a pretty white shirt with delicate grey and yellow flowers. It wasn’t an outfit that Jolene would wear while cataloguing artefacts, but she wasn’t meant to be doing that today. She’d been volunteering upstairs at reception.
Jolene was looking her up and down.
‘What is it?’ Freya asked. She’d had to hitch the trousers up a little too high to stop them dragging on the floor and had needed to roll the sleeves up on the shirt. ‘This isn’t going to work,’ she said glumly as she slipped on the flat black shoes. They were a size too big, but were the one part of the outfit she could get away with. She could tell by the way Jolene stood that her trainers were pinching Jolene’s toes.
