by Isobel Chace
'We'd better go back,' she said at last, 'we'll get stuck if we go on much further.'
`But it is dry now,' Okumu pointed out. 'When it is wet, after rain, it is easy to stick, but not now!'
The Range Rover lost momentum and came to a sliding stop. Tentatively, Annot 'slammed the gear-lever into the bottom position and turned the vehicle slowly round. The back of her neck prickled with a fear she couldn't understand and she was hardly surprised at all when Okumu's restraining hand brought them once more to a halt.
`What is it?' she demanded with a tetchiness which she immediately repented.'
'Hush,' he whispered, 'we are between a rhino and her
baby. She doesn't see well, but she hears everything!'
Annot's hand froze on the steering-wheel. She scarcely dared breathe as the enormous armour-plated bulk of the rhinoceros—a black rhino, she noted almost without realising she had done so—trotted round the Range Rover, snorting a warning that she was on the warpath. Her child, however, less concerned than his mother, snorted anxiously back and hurried into position beside his ill-tempered parent. Mollified, she made a false charge on the Range Rover, stopping a mere foot away from the bonnet with a final warning shuffle of her front feet. Then she turned away and went back to browsing for food a few yards away from where they were sitting.
`Now can we go back?' Annot whispered, badly frightened.
'Yes, now we go back,' the Samburu agreed.
Even so it took them all of twenty minutes to get back to the made-up track that went across the lake in dry weather. `Made-up' was a bit of a misnomer; it meant only that an earth-leveller had passed that way some time in the recent past, it did not mean it had been surfaced, or that it was free from potholes or hidden patches of dry, crumbling dust.
Annot's first reaction was one of relief, compounded by a mixture of guilt that she should have forgotten so easily James' warning to stay on the main tracks, and reaction from her first encounter with an angry rhinoceros. It was only slowly that she began to remember what they were doing in the Range Rover in the first place.
`Where's the balloon?' she demanded, her voice sharpened by the thought of James Montgomery being landed somewhere in the blue, without any hope of getting home without her.
`We will find it,' the Samburu said comfortably. 'You don't have to be afraid for the bwana,' he added.
'Afraid for James?' She laughed at the thought. 'But why should poor Norman suffer unnecessarily?'
'He is in more danger,' the African acknowledged. 'He is recently from England and lions are more tempted by the smell of fresh blood—'
'Oh, shut up!' Annot commanded him. 'You're deliberately trying to frighten me! '
Okumu laughed. 'No, it is true! Bwana James would be very angry if I told you anything that was not true!'
Annot digested that in silence. Belatedly, she came to the conclusion he was teasing her and wondered at her own surprise at what she would have expected from anyone else.
'What will happen if we don't find the balloon?' she asked, her voice trembling a little despite herself.
'We shall find it. They will be on the other side of the lake, for the wind is blowing them in that direction. You have no need to worry, mama! If you hurry, we shall soon catch them up.'
But it didn't seem soon. In fact it was several hours before they sighted the orange and yellow shape of the balloon, silhouetted against the fast-setting sun. It was very low over the ground, hovering only a few feet over the whistling thorn bushes that had been practically eaten out by the young giraffes who had been left by their mothers to fend for themselves all day on the top of an incline. Soon the older females would return to suckle their young, having spent the day foraging for themselves on the thorn trees on the lower slopes.
Annot headed straight for the balloon, the lessons of leaving the main track completely forgotten. She rushed over the rough ground like a mad thing, conscious of the wind blowing through the seed-cases of the whistling thorn until she 'could hear nothing else but the shrill, eerie sound and it began to grate on her nerves.
'Slow down, mama,' Okumu advised her, 'the balloon is not down yet.'
'They're coming down among those young giraffes—I know they are!'
`Maybe. It is better than coming down among a pride of lions.' He felt in the fold of his loincloth and produced a small calabash in which he kept his snuff. Carefully, he sniffed a small portion up each nostril, sneezing fiercely to clear his head. 'The Bwana James knows what he is doing.'
Annot hoped he did, but she was pretty sure that Norman didn't, and it was Norman who was supposed to be in control of the balloon. She meant to be there when they touched the ground, if only to ease her own mind as to how they were going to manage it.
The giraffes were hurrying now through the red glow of the evening. Their family feeling was not very great, but the mothers allowed their young to suckle and would even suckle another female's child if that mother was not available. The Range Rover came crashing up the hill just in time to see the whole group take fright, as the gas jets exploded over their heads for the balloon to clear the top of an inconvenient tree. Giraffes rushed helter-skelter everywhere, their incredible speed carrying them rapidly over the ground. Only one mother was left behind, a short distance away from the rest. For a moment Annot wondered why she hadn't fled with the others, but then to her horror she saw she was about to give birth. The baby giraffe was dropped from a height on its head to the ground.
`We've killed it!' Annot exclaimed.
Okumu shook his head. 'That's how giraffes are born,' he told her. 'Mostly they survive and only sometimes they do not.'
Annot was not so easily comforted. She felt deeply for the adult giraffe as she stood her ground, refusing to leave
her calf; as the basket of the balloon came floating down towards her she advanced towards it in her turn, using her head as a sledge-hammer in the time-honoured way of her kind if sufficiently pressed. She caught the corner of the basket and sent it rocketing away from her. Annot gasped audibly, but the two men hung on to the handles with everything they had, and another spurt of gas took them up safely above the giraffe's head.
Without thought for her own safety, Annot leaped out of the Range Rover and pointed over towards another clearing in the trees where the balloon could come down with greater safety.
`Right, Annot!' Norman shouted back to her.
'Get back in the car!' James' voice added, as calm and as superior as ever.
'But you'll need help—'
`Get in, Annot ! '
She might have argued the point further if Okumu hadn't forcibly dragged her back into the vehicle.
'He is all right, mama, the giraffe has done him no harm. Drive over there and he will be waiting for us. It will soon be all over.'
He is all right! What about Norman? Didn't anyone care what happened to him? Annot opened her mouth to protest that he was every bit as important as James, but the words died away in her throat. He ought to matter as much, but he didn't and he never would. And if that was the truth, it was something far better kept to herself. She didn't trust Okumu not to repeat to James every word she said to him, and this was something she couldn't bear for James to know, not now, not ever! It was something she refused to admit even to herself. She would go on disliking him just as though nothing had happened, because nothing had happened, except for a split second of time when she had thought—when it had seemed as though James was
much more important than any other man could possibly be to her.
Afterwards she had no recollection of driving the Range Rover to the clearing to which she had directed the men in the balloon. Indeed, she remembered very little about their landing, the series of hiccups in the smoothness of their descent caused by the wind catching in the material of the balloon, and the final, resounding thump when they hit the earth, the balloon, the hot air having cooled down, crumpling up over the top of them.
Norman stepped out of th
e basket, a broad grin of triumph on his face. 'Fantastic! James is a natural—'
The basket overbalanced and James, who had been replacing the cover on the lens of the camera, was spilt out on to the ground, a tangle of limbs, spare film, and extra lenses. He sat up, rubbing the back of his head indignantly, and Annot began to laugh.
`Dammit, woman, it's nothing to laugh at!' he berated her, getting to his feet and brushing the worst of the undergrowth off his trousers.
But she only laughed the more. 'I told you to mind your step!' she reminded him.
He came over to the door of the car. `So you did! Move over and let me in, my girl, and then we'll see who's laughing!'
CHAPTER SEVEN
`You've caught the sun.'
Annot averted her face. She wasn't sure it was the sun that had reddened her face, but she certainly hoped it was. Surely it couldn't be the close proximity of James Montgomery that had affected her?
`The sun?' she echoed.
He touched her cheek with a gentle finger. 'Isn't it the sun? I think by tomorrow you'll be peeling nicely. Have you anything to put on it?'
She shook her head. 'I never burn,' she claimed, flying in the face of the evidence. 'At least,' she amended, `if I do, it never hurts.'
'I hope you're right. It's a long time since you were out all day in the African sun; I should have warned you this morning. Prevention is always better than cure—even if it doesn't hurt!'
She shrugged, feeling ungracious. 'It's my face!'
`I consider I have an interest in it. I don't want it to come to any harm.'
'I still think that's my business!'
James gave her a sidelong look. 'You have a lot to learn, sweetheart,' he said.
`About balloons, everything!' she agreed with a heartiness that made her wince. 'Shouldn't we be helping with folding it up?'
'They aren't ready for us yet.' He drummed his fingers against the steering-wheel while he closely observed her, noting with interest her restiveness under his gaze. 'You look tired,' he spoke at last. 'Another reason for having an early night tonight, don't you agree?'
Annot gave him a rebellious glare. 'I want to see the honey-badgers again!'
He looked amused. 'I keep forgetting you're not much more grown-up than Dorcas,' he smiled. 'I bet you used to invent exactly the same sort of excuses for your parents when they told you it was time for bed!'
'I don't remember them ever telling me such a thing!' she denied.
'No? They spoilt you rotten, I suppose?'
She didn't like his teasing. 'I don't think so. They treated me as an adult—I'm not used to being dismissed as a mindless child!'
'Is that what I do?' She caught the underlying laughter in his voice and wished she had not thought to make the complaint in the first place. He obviously wasn't disposed to take anything she said seriously.
'You hardly treat me as a grown-up with a mind of my own!' she rebuked him sharply.
'I'll try to do better,' he drawled, 'but you can take it from me, I think of you as quite grown-up, Annot Lindsay. Too grown-up for my comfort most of the time!'
'And what's that supposed to mean?'
'It means, my dear, exactly what you suppose it to mean, that I am well aware of every movement you make and am hard put to it not to end this little game you're playing in the best way for both of us!'
Her eyes widened in dismay. 'I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about!' she exclaimed.
He smiled, but not with amusement, and her breath quickened. Surely he could not mean that?
'But I do! he affirmed. 'I keep thinking about what it would be like to kiss you, and one of these days I will, but not while your face is raw from the sun and you look tired enough to sleep for a week!' He bent his head closer to hers. 'Did you spend the whole day worrying about me? It
wasn't necessary, you know. Norman is a better balloon pilot than I would have given him credit for.'
'I wasn't worried at all,' Annot denied. 'We had our own adventures—and with something much more dangerous than a giraffe!'
'I saw you,' he said dryly. 'Serve you right for disobeying orders. Didn't I tell you to keep to the main trails? If I hadn't known you were all right with Okumu with you, I'd have taken you to task for that, tired or not! Little fool! I hope you did get a good fright!'
`How kind of you!' she retorted. 'I was a bit frightened, but it was much worse when we thought we'd lost you!' She could have bitten out her tongue the moment, she had spoken. What kind of a fool was she to tell him a thing like that? She must be tired and every bit as half-witted as he thought her!
James' expression softened. 'You won't lose me easily,' he assured her.
'Unfortunately not! How about Judith? She may not even want to lose you!'
His eyes flashed. 'How you do love to stir it up! I can't think why I allow you to get away with it. Why don't you let Judith look after herself? She's well able to, and far better qualified to manage her affairs than you are —'
'Meaning that she kisses you back, I suppose?' Annot said bitterly.
His features froze. Slowly, he turned and looked at her, lifting a frigid eyebrow. 'And you won't?'
'I'm not in love with you!'
'And you think Judith is? Don't be childish, Annot! You don't know the first thing about it. I doubt if you even know how you feel yourself. That, quite as much as your washed-out state, is the only thing that's making me hold back from trying out your particular brand of kisses. Satisfied?'
She was certainly shocked by his plain speaking. 'I can't
be very attractive if I look so tired and washed-out. I'm surprised you bother!'
He cupped her chin with a firm hand, turning her face up to his. 'Don't be provocative, Annot, it doesn't suit you.' He touched his lips to hers. 'And you might get more than you bargained for in return.' He kissed her lightly again. 'What would you do then, my love?'
Annot knew the answer to that. She would panic as she was beginning to panic now, and she didn't like it at all! She liked to be fully in control of herself and her emotions, not to find herself at the mercy of someone else—someone she didn't even like!
'I didn't mean to be provocative,' she said almost humbly.
'Did you not?' The sardonic twist to his lips made her blush. 'Possibly not,' he went on. 'I keep forgetting what an innocent abroad you are!'
Annot sighed. 'You make me out to be a fool,' she complained, 'and I'm not! I may not be very experienced in some ways, but I know much more than you think about—' She came to a full stop, clinging to her dignity with a desperation born of the fear that she might take the easy way out and burst into tears, a course she knew she would later despise.
'About love?'
'That sort of thing,' she compromised. 'I've had boyfriends galore!'
She wondered why he laughed, a great shout of laughter that made Norman look up from what he was doing and stare at them with disapproval.
'Don't you believe me?' Annot demanded. It was suddenly very important to her to convince him that she was every bit as capable as Judith was at looking after herself.
James stepped out of the Range Rover. 'No, my sweet, I don't.'
She followed him out, a little nervous at stepping out of
the protection of the vehicle, but she couldn't hear any animals, and so she could only hope there were none close enough to matter.
'Why not?'
He paused, considering the question, his head a little on one side. You take fright too easily to be at home in the ways of men,' he answered. 'I'd stake my last shilling on your innocence. Am I right?'
Annot dropped her eyes to the ground, unnerved by his perception. 'All the same ' she began, and then stopped. 'Oh, never mind, what does it matter? Why should I care what you think?'
'That's what I'm wondering,' he agreed smugly. 'I'd say you were on the brink of growing up, Annot Lindsay, and not before time!'
She stooped to re-tie her shoelace. 'I hate you!' she mut
tered in muffled tones. 'I hate you more than anyone else I've ever met!'
James waited for her to stand upright again, his hands on his hips, the very picture of male arrogance. 'Good,' he said. 'I can live with a little hatred from you—if you're sure it is hatred that you feel?'
'What else would it be?'
He didn't bother to answer. He didn't have to—the look on his face was answer enough. He knew! But what did he know? Annot considered the problem, trying to still the increasing turmoil inside her at the same time. She threw him a timid look, trying to make up her mind whether it would pay her to take the war into the enemy's camp and ask him exactly how he felt about her. But her spirits failed her. If only she could be as indifferent as she had been when she had first walked into his house, thinking blithely that it was Jeremy's home she was entering! But she most certainly didn't feel indifferent about anything to do with James
Montgomery, and if it wasn't hatred she felt for him, then what was it?
He put an affectionate arm across her shoulders. 'What else indeed?' he said in her ear. 'You'd better get back into the car and leave the hard work to the men,' he added. 'You look fit to drop!'
`Charming,' she said, making a face at him. 'Your compliments are enough to turn any girl's head!'
'Oh, I haven't started yet,' he grinned back at her. 'I could tell you that you have beautiful hair and that it looks simply gorgeous when it's just been washed and kicks up all over the place; or I could tell you that the combination of that hair with your wide, dark eyes is fascinating even to a hardened bachelor like myself, but—'
Annot held her breath. 'But?'
`But I won't. You might believe me, and then where would I be?'
She shrugged. 'Nowhere. It would take more than that to get you anywhere with me!' She stuck her nose in the air, trying to ignore his laughter. 'Anyway,' she added unwisely, 'you don't know anything about my hair!'