by Liz Fielding
‘Well, George. What a very invigorating effect you’re having on the boss. But don’t you think you’d better follow him? He’ll be looking for someone to fling orders at.’
George sighed. ‘So long as that’s all he flings,’ she said, and set off in his wake. She found him in the store tent checking his camera and lenses.
‘What took you so long?’ He indicated a small refrigerator. ‘Load some film. A couple of Polaroids. And some transparencies. It’ll help keep the film cool if we do it in here.’
George, on safer ground with the nitty-gritty of photographic hardware, deftly did as instructed and placed the backs carefully in the cold bag, aware all the time that Lukas was covertly watching her. ‘What next?’ she asked.
He picked up a light meter and slipped the cord over her head. ‘Look after this. Don’t lose it,’ he warned. ‘If a crocodile swallows it, I expect you to go in after it.’ He was standing very close, almost touching her, and she felt her breath tightening, a flush darkening her cheeks.
‘Is that what happened to your last assistant?’ she asked flippantly.
His fingers were still on the cord and they tightened. ‘It’s an odd thing, George. I could have sworn you wouldn’t have known a lens from your elbow when I saw that brand-new camera you brought with you. Perhaps I was wrong.’
George almost relaxed. So that was what all this aggravation had been about. ‘I had a bit of an accident with my own camera a couple of days ago. I didn’t want to come to Africa without one.’
His eyes narrowed, and he demanded anxiously, ‘An accident? What happened to it?’
It was thrown to the pavement and two large men took it in turn to jump on it. No, she definitely wasn’t going to tell him that. ‘I dropped it,’ she hedged. It wasn’t exactly a lie. That brute had barged into her and she had, well, dropped it.
‘Dropped it?’
‘It was insured,’ she said reassuringly, as she realised that he was staring at her horror-struck.
‘Just make sure you don’t have “a bit of an accident” with mine,’ he warned. ‘No amount of insurance will save you from the consequences.’
‘I’ll be very careful,’ she promised, as he released the cord and let her go. And she would be. There was an animal force about him that made him as dangerous as any crocodile. She had experienced his annoyance once before, but she had the feeling that the loss of his camera would upset him a great deal more than a bag of flour.
They loaded the jeep in silence while the rest of the team climbed up front. ‘Michael used to sit behind with the equipment,’ he said half apologetically as George realised that with Lukas driving there would be no room for her on the seats.
She shrugged. ‘Whatever Michael can do,’ she said, and climbed up among a jumble of cold bags and other assorted clutter.
Kelly turned round in the back seat and smiled. ‘Are you all right back there? We could squeeze up.’
‘She’ll be fine,’ Lukas assured them, as he shut the door on her. ‘Won’t you?’ She glared at his retreating back.
George had thought it was bumpy riding in the front of the jeep, but it was nothing to sitting on the floor in the back as he bounced over the rough track. By the time she climbed down, stiff and aching, every bone in her body felt bruised from the jolting ride.
She stood and stretched her limbs for a moment, trying to get the circulation flowing in a normal direction. Lukas appeared beside her and shouldered the drinks bag and the tripod.
‘This is as far as we can get with the jeep. We walk the rest.’ With that he turned and scrambled down the river bank, helping the models, his voice floating back to her. ‘Take your time, girls, I don’t want any bruises.’
George picked up the cold bag with the films and the camera case and looked down the steep bank. There was no way she could manage to carry everything down at once and arrive in one piece. Aware that Lukas was watching her, waiting for her to ask for help, she put the film box down and carried the camera box carefully to the river bed. Ignoring him completely, she repeated the journey, by which time she was hot and breathless and painfully aware of damp patches on the back of her floppy T-shirt and dust-covered trousers.
But there was no respite. ‘About time,’ Lukas drawled, and set off at a pace that his long legs made deceptively fast. Her arms felt as if they were being dragged from their sockets and her legs were continually bumped by the load she carried.
On either side of the river bank were tall trees, with a sickly green bark. ‘Did you call those fever trees?’ she asked finally, to break the uncomfortable silence.
‘It’s just a local nickname,’ he replied. ‘Early travellers in these parts camped by the water where the trees grow, and then went down with malaria. They didn’t know about mosquitoes. They thought the trees were the cause.’
‘Who could blame them?’ George shuddered.
Mark had dropped back beside them. ‘I’ll carry that for you,’ he offered and took the cold bag containing the film.
She smiled. ‘Thanks.’
Lukas glared at him. ‘The going a bit tough for you already, George?’ he asked, and picked up the pace until she was half running.
‘Just a trifle warm,’ she panted.
The party had in fact come to a standstill by the time they caught up. George put down the camera box with relief and stretched her arm.
‘It’s not much further,’ Lukas said abruptly. ‘You can rest when we get there. Mark! Give these girls a drink for God’s sake!’ He opened the bag he was carrying and handed him a few cans. George would have liked a drink, but suspected that the term ‘girls’ did not include her and she wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of asking. Lukas was already moving on and George shouldered the camera case and scooted after him. Keeping on his good side professionally was more important than a drink right now. A quarter of an hour later, with George fit to drop from his punishing pace, they reached a pile of rocks in the river bed around which a stream ran like a moat.
George had a dry mouth and her lungs felt as if they would burst from breathing air that seemed to get hotter with every lungful. She thought longingly of the drinks given to the girls and hoped there would be something for the workers.
‘It’s a bit like trying to work in a sauna, isn’t it?’ Lukas remarked.
George smiled a little wanly. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never tried.’
‘I have. It’s difficult. The lenses keep steaming up.’
‘So why do you waste your time on this rubbish, Lukas?’
He looked up, suddenly angry. ‘Some of us have rent to pay,’ he said curtly. ‘And you’re here. What’s your excuse?’
She blinked, furious with herself. She just wasn’t used to keeping her feelings to herself. Perhaps it was time she learned. ‘You’ll want the camera about here,’ she said, changing the subject.
‘It’ll do for a start.’
George turned to set up the tripod and froze, feeling the blood drain from her face as she spotted a green lizard regarding her from the shadow of a pile of stones. As she stared it darted into the shadows.
Amber, discussing the shot with Lukas, caught the sudden movement. ‘A snake!’ she cried. ‘I saw a snake!’ She clung to him.
‘It was only a lizard,’ George said, trying to repress a shudder.
‘No!’ Amber was near hysteria. ‘I saw it. It’s under the rock!’
‘Get it out, George, there’s a good girl. I’ve got my hands full.’ She looked up at him, not believing her ears. ‘Or we won’t get anything done today.’
He had thrown down a challenge, daring her to refuse. She swallowed, but her throat was dry, and she wiped her hands on the seat of her trousers. Then slowly she bent down and stared into the shadow under the rock. The lizard stared back. She made a sudden lunge and caught something under her hand. She hung on to it and staggered to her feet.
‘Here.’ She thrust it blindly at Lukas.
‘All right, Amber? See, i
t was a lizard. It got away, but left George its tail.’
‘Poor little thing,’ Amber murmured and wandered away.
George caught Lukas staring at her with something like admiration. It was a look that made her tremble in a way that no lizard could. She widened her mouth into a self-mocking little smile, and without any warning he smiled back. Quickly she dropped her head to the tripod, but her fingers weren’t quite steady as she tightened a nut. Her heart was beating painfully fast and although she would have liked to put it down to the exertion she knew she would be kidding herself.
‘I hope you’ll be able to undo those,’ Lukas broke into her thoughts, making her jump once more. ‘Here, have a drink.’ He handed her a can.
‘Thank you.’ She took it gratefully, and tipped the cold liquid down her throat.
‘You need to keep topped up. This is a bad time of day to start work.’ He took the can from her. ‘If you’re finished, we’ll take some Polaroids.’
‘I’ll get the film.’
Mark looked up from laying out his colours in the lid of the make-up box.
‘Sorry to bother you, but I need the film bag,’ she asked.
‘Film bag?’
‘You carried it for me,’ she prompted.
‘Oh, that. I carried it for a while.’ He thought for a moment. ‘When we stopped for a drink I put it down. You took it from there,’ he said carelessly.
George froze. ‘No, Mark, I didn’t stop.’
‘Didn’t you?’ He shifted uncomfortably. ‘Sorry, George. I’d go back for you, but I have to get on with the make-up.’
George felt cold. Standing in the blazing African heat, she shivered. ‘Of course. You get on with what you’re doing. I’ll find it.’
She spent a few moments looking around before facing the inevitable explosion. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Lukas watching her. Waiting impatiently. There was no point in putting the moment off. The bag had been left back on the river bed. And she was going to have to face him.
As she walked across the hot space, she knew how prisoners going to the scaffold must have felt. An inevitable, unavoidable fate was awaiting her.
‘Well? Where’s the film?’
She drew a deep breath. ‘Back there, somewhere. Where the girls stopped for a drink.’
‘I see.’ Those two small words told her very plainly that she was an incompetent fool, but that he had never expected anything better. She flushed with humiliation.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’m sure you are. But not as sorry as you’re going to be,’ he warned. ‘Meanwhile, you’d better do something about the film so that we can get some work done today.’ With that, he turned and walked to the shade where he sat down, leaned back against a tree, and closed his eyes.
George dragged her eyes from him and stared back along the river bed for a moment, conscious of the sudden silence that had descended upon the group. Then, head high, she started to walk briskly back in the direction from which they had come.
She didn’t slow, or shift her head to left or right, until a bend in the river hid her from their view. Then and only then did she pull a handkerchief from her trouser pocket and blow her nose. A group of vultures, nightmare creatures with bare heads and hunched shoulders, flapped awkwardly from a thicket of trees at this disturbance.
She took to her heels and ran, furious with Mark, with Lukas, but most of all herself for getting into such a mess. She should never have let the wretched bag out of her hand. She sank finally, on to her knees, breathing heavily, her heart thumping, her shirt sticking to her clammily. She didn’t think she had ever felt so wretched in her life.
How could she have been so stupid? She sat back on her heels and pounded her fist against her knee in frustration. She knew that one day she would laugh at the ridiculous spectacle she was making of herself. But not now. Instead she took off the horrible hat and dipped it into a pool, and, trying not to think about what might be in the water, she dumped it back on her head. Then she started to hunt for the bag.
She didn’t have to look for long. It was in the shade of a rock, easily forgotten by someone whose life did not depend upon it. She picked it up and began the hot walk back to face Lukas.
It seemed forever before she turned the bend in the river and saw them. Lukas and Walter, deep in discussion, turned as she approached.
She went straight to the camera and replaced its back with one she had previously loaded with Polaroid film.
‘You’d better have a drink, George,’ Walter suggested.
‘Later,’ Lukas snapped, brushing him aside. ‘We’ve wasted enough time.’
Kelly rose majestically from the rug where she had been sitting cross-legged, draped in a light cotton wrap. She shrugged it off to reveal the native fabric draped about her hips and a magnificent choker threaded from the tiny nuts and cogs. She walked with an arrow-straight back to the rock. As she lay back upon it Suzy whisked away her sandals and left her, like Andromeda, to await her fate at the jaws of some imaginary dragon. Lukas, staring through the camera, called out instructions to her, taking Polaroids and passing them to George to peel them free of their backings.
After that everything just became a blur as she constantly checked light, held reflectors, replaced film, film and more film.
Finally Lukas was satisfied and Kelly climbed down. ‘That rock is hard,’ was all the comment she made a she walked stiffly back to her rug. George found herself admiring the girl’s professionalism. There was a lack of nonsense about the way she had done exactly what was wanted, in uncomfortable circumstances, with the absolute minimum of fuss.
‘That’s a tough way to make a living,’ she said, as she packed the exposed film back into the cold bag.
‘Is there an easy way?’ Kelly asked, yawning. ‘Oh, God, this sun is so tiring.’
‘Yes,’ George agreed, pulling a face, suddenly conscious of a thumping headache and a pain behind her eyes from the sun.
Kelly looked concerned. ‘Are you all right? Here, have a swig of this, you must be parched.’
Gratefully George took the proffered can. It wasn’t very cold, but it was wet and she was grateful. ‘So,’ she asked, ‘what next?’
‘We go back to camp,’ Lukas said, coming up behind them. ‘Some of us have earned a rest.’ He picked up the cold box and turned away.
‘I’ll carry that,’ George said. ‘It’s my job.’
He turned and regarded her steadily. ‘A pity you didn’t think of that earlier.’
‘I shan’t make the same mistake again. Please leave it to me.’ She tried to keep the pleading out of her voice, but it was a matter of pride. He dropped the box at her feet.
‘If you’re sure. I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.’
‘Quite sure.’ Her voice wasn’t quite steady, as he held her for a moment in his gaze. Then he shrugged and walked away.
‘Whew!’ Kelly said, with feeling. ‘Who’s rattled his cage?’
‘I’ll give you three guesses,’ George murmured. She emptied the can, and threw it back into the box.
‘Come on,’ Kelly said. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’
George smiled, truly grateful for the girl’s offer. ‘I think perhaps I’d better do my penance to the bitter end, don’t you?’ she said, lightly. ‘But thanks. I appreciate the offer.’
Lukas was strolling away with Walter as George dismantled the tripod and packed it away in its case. It had the bulk and weight of a small set of golf clubs. Lukas had carried it from the jeep but while she had been working he and Walter had disappeared. The camera had already been packed by Lukas. George, not to be caught out twice in one day, checked that it was all there. Satisfied, she gathered her equipment and with the tripod over her shoulder and a bag in each hand she began a slow trudge back to the jeep, not even attempting to catch up with the others.
By the time the jeep appeared above her, with Lukas and Walter sitting comfortably in camp chairs under the trees, Geo
rge was beyond feeling. The bank loomed ahead of her and she knew she wasn’t going to make it. And she didn’t care.
She understood vaguely that the bags had been taken from her, that the weight had gone from her shoulders, but that made no difference. Her legs were jelly, and spots were converging before her eyes. She wondered, without much interest, if they would leave her behind.
‘George!’ Lukas sounded a long way away. ‘George, are you all right?’ But that couldn’t be right because his arms were around her. As he lifted her, her hat fell off. Her last thought, before everything went dark, was that she mustn’t lose her hat.
Chapter Four
‘George! George!’ The voice was urgent and George knew that she really ought to do something about it. ‘She’s coining round. For heaven’s sake give her some air, everyone.’ George made a supreme effort and opened her eyes. For a moment she was quite content to lie there. Then Lukas swam into focus and with him the remembrance of the last disastrous twenty-four hours. She tried to sit up, but his hand on her shoulder restrained her.
‘Just keep still for a minute. Here, try a sip of this.’ He pressed a can of something cold against her lips and she gulped as the liquid fizzed into her mouth, then struggled up, coughing and spluttering and gasping for air.
‘God give me strength!’ George found herself hauled unceremoniously over his shoulder and her back slapped sharply. The coughing stopped. She leaned weakly against him, her head resting upon his shoulder, his arm around her, holding her close against his chest. For a moment she was content to rest there while she willed her limbs into some sort of life. ‘Better?’ he demanded. She would have laughed if she had had the strength.
When she didn’t answer he turned and looked at her, concerned grey eyes so close that for a moment she was mesmerised by them. Then a small frown creased his forehead and George remembered with a start exactly where she was. The speculative look that had sharpened his gaze was more reviving than any amount of first aid.