Chapter 17
They arrived in Cusco after dark, courtesy of Rachel’s private plane. The capital city of the Incan Empire was a study in red-brick Spanish architecture, built on grey Incan stone foundations. At night, it was lit up in gold, the streets filled with tourists and locals, the mood welcoming.
Julia pulled her cardigan tight around her as she stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard of their hotel. The building was over five hundred years old and used to be a monastery. The sandstone walls, with its red tile roof so ubiquitous in Cusco, had been built on top of the foundations of an Incan palace. So much history in one spot, and it was nothing compared to the rest of the city. They were in the centre of a cultural capital, the belly button of the Incan world, the staging post of Spanish domination and now a must-see destination for the international traveller. All that history; all those expectations from visitors. She wondered if the locals crumpled under the weight of living there.
“Take another photo of that piece.”
Her grandmother’s voice wafted up the stairs from the living room area of their small suite, to the bedroom mezzanine. She was busy going over the mummy’s textiles with Elle. They were taking photos and scanning the information into Elle’s laptop, where they could look at the images in more detail. They didn’t want to miss a thing. All her grandmother had time to decode while they’d been in La Paz was their next destination—Cusco. Now the rest of the textiles had to be translated. And fast. Time was running out for Alice.
“Hey,” Ryan, their current bodyguard, interrupted the busy women. “You want to go down for dinner or order in?”
“In!” the two women shouted.
They’d flown through dinnertime and it was late, though Julia still didn’t have much of an appetite. Mainly, she was exhausted. She looked at the twin beds behind her with longing. Their soft, cool cotton sheets were calling to her. But with only a balcony rail between the bedroom area and the living area below it, there was no way she could get any sleep.
“Julia,” Ryan called. “What do you want to eat?”
Another problem—she hadn’t checked out the kitchens and wasn’t sure if their standards met hers. She was just too tired.
“Nothing,” she answered as she looked out over the flickering lights of the city to the darkness beyond, where she knew green hills surrounded them. “I think I’m going to take a walk down to the hotel chapel. I’ll pick up something on the way.”
“Stay inside the hotel. Don’t wander.” He thought about it for a second. “Maybe I should go with you.”
“It’s just down there.” Julia pointed. “You can watch me from here.”
“Okay, but if anything spooks you, come straight back.”
Julia let herself out of their room and followed the long corridor to the staircase leading down to the corner where the chapel was situated.
She crossed the courtyard, with its bubbling fountain and flagstone paving. All around her, the arched passageways of the building offered shaded spaces for guests to sit. Some of the arches were now part of the restaurant, and diners sat overlooking the courtyard as they ate. Julia could almost imagine monks scurrying about the place, tending gardens where the patio now stood, sheltering from the midday sun under the arches. It was like walking through history.
The chapel was small, but crammed full of gilt-framed paintings that ran from floor to ceiling. They came in all sizes, but were similar in style, having been painted five hundred years earlier. There were renditions of saints and Bible stories and church leaders. Julia sat in one of the wooden pews, her eyes towards the ornately carved pulpit, and wondered if it was wrong that the sacred space was now a meeting room for hotel guests.
“Is very pretty, no?”
Julia looked up to find a young woman dressed in the hotel uniform.
“Yes.” Julia smiled at her.
“It is very popular for weddings,” the woman said. “We have one booked this weekend. If you are still here, you might enjoy watching the ceremony. You will be able to see most of it from the courtyard.”
“I wonder what the monks would think of their chapel hosting weddings.” Julia was tired, and it loosened her tongue a little, allowing her to relax and chat with someone she’d only just met, rather than become tongue-tied and foolish looking.
“It’s the nature of things, isn’t it?” the woman said. “Before the building was a monastery, it was an Incan palace. In the basement, you can still see the stone walls they built.”
“There’s a basement?” Julia wondered if it was anything like the catacombs she’d longed to see in Lima.
The woman nodded. “We use only part of it for wine storage. I know the owners plan to develop the rest at some point. May I sit?”
Julia nodded, grateful for the diversion from her tense reason for visiting Peru. “Tell me about the history of the place,” she said. “If you have time.”
“I’d love to.” The woman held out a hand. “My name is Maria.”
And for the first time since coming to Peru, Julia felt like a normal person.
Joe found Julia in the chapel, talking to one of the staff. He stood in the shadow of the doorway for a moment, watching her. Although still shy, she was smiling and laughing with the young woman. He knew she was taking a moment out of the trouble that swirled around them. She deserved more than a moment. This situation was stressful for anyone, but for someone like Julia, who struggled when outside of her comfort zone and routine, it must have been hell.
He was so damn proud of her. In her eyes, she was weak and scared, but in his she was courageous. The fact she was there, helping her gran, dealing with everything that was happening, was a testimony to her courage. Joe couldn’t believe she was unable to see that for herself. Julia Collins was one of the bravest women he’d ever known.