One night, Lizzie went out on a date and Connie couldn’t sleep. Instead of gliding to their bedroom chaise longue, she decamped to the sitting room downstairs. A week later, she would see it as fate. She was asleep on Matt’s old russet-red sofa bed, when the doorbell woke her. She was hardly conscious. She opened the door without looking at Lizzie or her date, and curled back into the foetal position on the sofa. She remembered looking up to see a man looming over her. What she saw in his dark eyes was decisiveness and purpose.
‘You must be Constance.’
She nodded without speaking or sitting up.
‘Why are you sleeping on the sofa?’
‘I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake Luke,’ she hesitated. ‘My boyfriend.’
‘Oh, what’s he done?’ There was no missing the playfulness in his eyes.
‘Nothing, nothing at all.’ She sat up quickly, keen to get away from him. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’
Lizzie reappeared. ‘Much better. I was desperate for a pee.’
They stood awkwardly, the three of them.
‘Connie, you really shouldn’t wear that nightie downstairs,’ Lizzie said sharply. ‘Luke loves to see you semi-naked, but not the rest of us.’
Connie instinctively wrapped her arms across her breasts. ‘Sorry, I’d forgotten you were out. I’m off to bed.’
‘Have you two introduced yourselves?’ Lizzie relented.
‘No. Rudely, I haven’t. Julian Emmerson.’ He held out his large hand, which Connie reluctantly shook, keeping her other hand across her nightie. He held on to it. ‘Wonderful to meet you, Constance.’
Gus was taking them in search of the Southern Pride, which had been spotted by another ranger near a northern watering hole. It would mean they didn’t have time to stop for every animal they spotted along the way. They were keen. Lions gave purpose and excitement to their first drive.
This time, they climbed swiftly into the vehicle. Matt, Katherine and Luke in the first row, while Connie sat between Julian and Dan in the middle, and Sara, Lizzie and Alan in the back. She gratefully noticed that there was an ease to their movements as they placed their cameras, suncream and water bottles in the leather pouches behind the seats in front.
Luke shuffled a large rucksack from between his legs. ‘I’ve got something for you all.’
He brought out a pile of dark grey tissue wrapped items. Each one had a handwritten name tag dangling from a purple ribbon.
‘Matt.’ Luke tossed a package to him.
Matt tore it open and stretched out an elegant taupe-coloured shirt in exquisite cotton. ‘Luke, you’re great, mate.’
‘I don’t believe it.’ Lizzie exclaimed as she opened hers. ‘It looks expensive. Wow, thank you, Luke.’
On the left-hand breast of Connie’s shirt in olive embroidery as if hand scribbled were the words: The Group. On the back was an olive-sketched map with cartoon-style buildings showing Harley Place, Connie’s house in west London, and Adderbury and Gae in the Kalahari.
Connie squeezed his shoulder. ‘You are brilliant. Have you all seen this?’ Connie held up the back of the shirt.
‘That’s great,’ Sara lifted up her shirt. ‘Super-styley. And the right size. Luke, you are a gorgeous boy.’
‘Very thoughtful,’ Dan said.
‘Thanks, Luke. If I ever get lost getting home…’ Julian said.
Luke nodded. His awkwardness was so familiar, it made Connie smile.
They drove through a locked gate in the boundary fence. They left the lodge side of the reserve and drove across thirty metres of no-man’s-land scrub, and then out through another gate into the lions’ side of the reserve. Lions had been introduced relatively recently to Gae, Gus explained. They were segregated to protect other species. Gus shared these details as they drove. He kept up a running commentary, which made Connie feel more involved than the average tourist.
The group of delicate golden antelopes, half-hidden in the grass, were steenbok, he explained. ‘Delicious – similar to your venison. You’ll probably have them on the barbecue tonight.’ He stopped abruptly. ‘A secretary bird taking off up there.’
Connie leaned up and out to the right, not sure what she was looking for. Without moving even his head, Ben murmured to Gus.
‘Ben, thank you, look, another, look. Two secretary birds together about to fly.’
Matt and Katherine sighted them first. ‘Beautiful,’ Katherine cooed. Julian’s rapid camera clicks showed he had spotted them.
Gus turned round. ‘They are carnivores, eh. They kill their prey by stamping them to death.’
The secretary birds had a fantastic orange splash across their heads. They were four-foot tall, like hawks with long legs. Fanning their wide grey and black wings, they took off at speed. Connie had never seen any bird like them before. Watching them was like meditation, she thought. She stared until they were faint dots in the sky.
Everyone seemed transfixed, except for Lizzie, who was bending down in between Alan and Sara, trying to pick up her species checklist from the metal floor.
‘They are vast aren’t they?’ murmured Luke.
‘It’s hard to believe that they are real,’ murmured Sara.
‘Extraordinarily huge,’ Dan agreed.
‘They were incredible,’ Connie added.
Connie smiled. It reminded her of how skiing holidays bonded people together. It was the shared experience. Only here, what they were sharing was exciting and extraordinary.
Lizzie squeezed back up as the birds disappeared. Alan had picked up her species checklist.
‘Thank you, Alan. You are sweet.’ Lizzie smiled. ‘Sagittarius serpentarius.’
They headed up over a sand dune densely packed with grasses and thorny bushes, which reminded Connie of a Norfolk beach. She checked herself: there was no comparison. The track was brightening to an angry orange in the last light. From the top, they could see three hundred and sixty degrees of vastness. The grassland filled most of the picture: green, patchy and dead flat. Two bronzed hills folded behind it, pencil outlines of half hexagons. Against the blue sky, they were stark and lunar.
As Gus drove on down the other side, he gave them the ‘lion rules’. Lions weren’t bothered by the vehicles: they were bulky nuisances, no more. They saw the whole vehicle and the guests inside it as one object, but that didn’t mean that they were tame. Any sudden movements, or body parts out of the vehicle, or shouting could annoy or threaten them.
Gus stopped at the shaded water hole, where the lions had been spotted early that morning. Julian swung nonchalantly out of the vehicle with his vast camera and long lens.
‘Julian, you need to get back in the vehicle,’ Gus insisted.
‘Hey, Julian. What are you doing?’ Katherine added. ‘Get back in.’
‘Julian, mate,’ Matt said, ‘get back in, for God’s sake.’
Julian ignored them. Gus looked annoyed.
‘One second, Gus. Please, Bristol babes and boys, quick can you look this way. Say carnivore,’ said Julian grinning.
As they looked obediently in Julian’s direction, willing him to take it and get back in, Connie saw three lion cubs under the Camel Thorn tree a few metres behind him. She was anxious, but she would never command Julian back into the vehicle. Ben silently slid from his seat on the bonnet and into the vehicle beside Gus.
‘Get in,’ Gus voice was authoritative.
‘Julian! Lions,’ It was Dan, who was first to articulate what they saw. He sounded petrified. ‘Behind you. Lions. Get in quick.’
Dan’s voice was usually calm, though Connie knew underneath he was more turbulent. Instinctively, Connie wasn’t frightened, though she realised Julian had taken an unnecessary risk.
‘Stay calm, Dan,’ stated Gus, ‘It’s okay, eh?’
His words were designed to be soothing, but Connie sensed Gus was irritated by Julian and the unnecessary issue he had created. Julian moved quicker than Connie ever remembered. His face coloured with excit
ement. ‘Really sorry, Gus. Close shave. I had one this morning. No need for another.’
Without acknowledging Julian’s apology, Gus started the engine, turned into a crooked three-point turn and then crept backwards towards the Camel Thorn tree. Dan squeezed her hand – he was drained of colour. He seemed genuinely terrified, whereas Julian looked exhilarated.
‘Let me get my species checklist out. One big tick: lion.’ Lizzie sounded louder in the now silent vehicle. ‘Panthera leo.’
‘Lizzie, shush,’ insisted Dan, turning gently towards her. ‘Please, sweetheart.’
Sara whispered, ‘They are devouring some animal’s brains.’
Lizzie poorly stage-whispered, ‘Look, everyone, look.’
Katherine, Matt and Dan hissed at her.
Connie smiled. She wasn’t scared. She was comfortable with all animals, even these lions. She hadn’t been on safari. She hadn’t travelled much. She got married at twenty-one and had Leo when she was twenty-two. So she savoured this experience.
‘They have a fresh kill,’ whispered Gus, stopping the vehicle three metres from the tree under which they were sheltering. ‘It’s a… Ben?’
Ben murmured with a slight nod of his head.
‘It’s a warthog,’ Gus translated. ‘They are eating the head.’
Their silence intensified the moment. Normally excitement would have made them chatty and loud in their appreciation. Instead they snapped away, looking up periodically from their cameras, as if undecided whether photo memories or physical ones were more powerful.
The lion cubs had their front legs stretched out in front of them. Hector’s cat Rolo – who was an established member of their family before Lou’s boyfriend of the same name appeared on the scene – adopted the same pose. Well fed and shaded, they looked happy. One of the lions had had more than his share of warthog brains. The other pawed his head in a not unfriendly cuff, before grabbing the remaining warthog chunk and moving a few feet away to assert his ownership of the rest of supper.
‘They are male lions about two and a half years old,’ Gus explained. ‘Still not fully grown.’
Mere babes. Connie felt a longing she quickly dismissed. Her family had a largesse, which delighted Connie. Each child added more. Connie loved being pregnant. Her bump had pressed up against her ribs forcing her body to widen, generously expand to make space for the new person pushing its way into their family. The larger she became, the more significant she felt. She became greater than the sum of her own shy, skinny parts. She was born to have children. It was her happy contribution to this world. She couldn’t get enough of it until she had Hector. Four was her number. Connie couldn’t imagine having another baby. Not now. The time had passed.
‘It’s great to see them after a fresh kill, eh?’ Gus said. He appeared to harbour no grudge about Julian’s behaviour.
Connie echoed her appreciation. ‘It’s amazing. How extraordinary to be so close to lions. We are lucky.’
She felt a warmth towards Gus, who had brought them here.
‘Julian,’ Dan called, as Julian leaned a whole arm and lens out. ‘Could you possibly not do that…’
‘Julian, please. I made it clear you need to keep your limbs inside the vehicle.’ Gus stated.
‘Hold on, getting a thirty-second video. Okay, gang, a soundbite on seeing a large cat eating warthog brains for tea?’
Sara instantly spread her arms for the camera. ‘It is extraordinary to be feet from such powerful animals. Hugely grateful they show no interest Sara Wilson au vin.’ She raised her eyebrows.
Julian moved back inside the vehicle, nodding to Gus to acknowledge his point.
Gus relented and smiled. ‘An American tourist freaked out.’
Connie smiled back. She was proud that she wasn’t that American tourist. She was drawn to these magnificent creatures and trusting of Gus and Ben’s instincts.
Gus spoke in quick-fire Afrikaans, Ben replied. ‘Over there?’ Gus responded.
They turned to look. A large female lion was standing a metre from the back of the vehicle, walking slowly but deliberately towards them.
Lizzie burst out, ‘Gigantic beast alert.’
‘Thank God for you, sweetheart,’ Alan teased.
‘It’s okay, Lizzie,’ Gus said immediately. ‘She’s absolutely fine. If I thought there was any danger, I would get you out of here, okay?’
The female lion strolled nonchalantly along the side of the vehicle. Connie believed that she was looking at each and every one of its occupants, contemplating their features. Dan shrank away from the side, pressing in against her. His leg shook convulsively. She stroked his hand as she did with Hector when he was tiny. He squeezed hers back.
‘She is waiting until her cubs have eaten,’ whispered Gus. ‘Then she will have her dinner.’
‘What a fantastic mom,’ murmured Katherine.
Luke twisted round to face her. ‘This is incredible, Connie,’ he whispered. ‘Thank you.’
Connie grinned back. ‘It’s great.’
‘Shush, shush, shush,’ Dan repeated. The mantra seemed to reassure him.
Connie looked at him sympathetically. She glanced into the back seat at Alan, who seemed oblivious to Dan’s meltdown. She couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed Dan’s state. If so, did he not care?
Alan had met Dan on a job six years ago. Dan was restoring a walled kitchen garden near Chipping Norton, where Alan worked as a gardener. The group never believed that Alan was good enough for Dan. Connie reasoned with Sara that no one would match up to Dan. Sara didn’t agree, insisting he had compromised.
When they were living together, they had seen compromise as the cardinal sin. Their life at university was predicated on the principle of never compromising over anything. Not sex, love, fun or friendship. They were dismissive of everything they believed wasn’t worthy of their efforts. Perhaps that was why they loved each other. Their friendship was representative of this time when only the big things mattered. The small things had yet to grind them down.
‘Alan, it’s amazing isn’t it?’ She turned, conscious she didn’t make enough effort with him.
He nodded, ‘Yeah.’ She waited for him to add more, but he didn’t.
She sensed that, along with Sara, he was the most reluctant to be here. Then she caught Sara’s eye. She smiled broadly and stuck two thumbs up at Connie.
Connie was elated by her reaction.
Chapter 4
The sun was blistering behind a zigzag of soft peaked hills folding across the horizon. Gus had ‘parked’ bang in the middle of the track. No meter men, no traffic, Matt thought with a wry smile. Gus and Ben meticulously laid out a white pressed tablecloth over a small wooden foldaway table, twenty feet in front of the vehicle. Matt expected to be offered a warmish beer. Forget that. Out of a canvas holdall came half a dozen tall metal containers. They lunged for drinks, no longer self-conscious. They were all keen to process what they had seen, celebrate and savour it. Everyone had a slightly different take on seeing the lions: their proximity, the thrill, the fear. Cameras were out; photos shared; Lizzie insisted on replaying Julian’s video several times. They rapidly ate all the canapés: mozzarella and tomato balls on tiny cocktail sticks, and mini spicy meat kebabs.
Katherine looked enthusiastically at the bottle of vodka. ‘Hey, Gus, I would love one more. Only a little vodka though, please.’
Katherine gave her girlie smile that made Matt happy. Happy to be here, and above all, happy to be with Katherine enjoying herself after all the stress of the last few months.
‘Oh yes please, Matt, same as Katherine,’ Lizzie smiled enthusiastically. ‘I can’t believe it: a full complimentary bar in the middle of nowhere. What about you, Alan?’ She linked arms with him. They seemed to have struck up an odd sort of bond.
‘Lizzie, mine’s another large one. Same poison as you, love.’
‘We’re like twins, aren’t we?’ added Lizzie enthusiastically.
‘Too righ
t,’ Alan grinned back.
‘Is that gin?’ asked Connie.
‘Mother’s ruin, Connie,’ mumbled Luke, as he grabbed a bottle of South African Castle lager and the bottle opener from the holdall.
‘Luke, are you saying I look ruined?’ Connie eyed him.
Matt was irritated. A classic Luke comment. He wasn’t aware of the effect of his words on their audience. Katherine insisted he lacked ‘emotional intelligence’ and that he only got away with it because he was handsome. She had met hundreds of Lukes in New York: socially stunted, Internet goofballs.
Privately, Matt disagreed with Katherine. He believed Luke had never got over Connie splitting up with him.
Lizzie started taking photos. Connie and Luke posed like storks on the roof of the vehicle, Lizzie and Alan wrapped their arms round each other and took a selfie in their sunglasses, while Sara twisted her head to glare coquettishly over one shoulder.
Katherine moved decisively to stand beside Matt, the ends of her long hair touching his left shoulder. ‘Hon.’
Matt wanted to stall her somehow. He had prevaricated about telling his friends and family for months. But Katherine had had enough. She wanted to share their news. He didn’t. He couldn’t tell her that, to be honest, he was embarrassed, although he knew that she sensed his reluctance. He was a straightforward, uncomplicated bloke. He wanted a life that conformed to the norm, which he took to mean mirror the life of his stockbroker father and housewife mother. When he married his first wife, Annabel, a fellow solicitor at his law firm, Clifford Chance, he had thought his life would mirror Connie and Julian’s with a large family and a nice house in one of the Home Counties.
The Art of Unpacking Your Life Page 3