An Image Of You. Liz FieldingЧитать онлайн книгу.
away from them. It was vast, beautiful.
George gave herself a mental shake. What on earth was she complaining about? Perhaps being a colourless doormat under the feet of Lukas for two weeks was more than flesh and blood would be able to sustain. But she would certainly try. And she might as well get some amusement from it.
‘I’ve taken lots of family photos,’ she said, hesitantly, making sure to keep her face quite serious. ‘The dogs. My sister’s babies.’ She stole a glance at Lukas. His face was set and hard as he took in her answer. ‘They are very good. Everyone says so.’
‘Dogs and babies.’ His voice was expressionless. ‘I see. Anything else?’
She pretended to think. ‘I took a photograph of the Princess Royal once.’
‘Oh?’ he said, rousing a little more interest.
‘Yes. She came to open a new wing at school. Of course she was just Princess Anne then … I sent her a copy that I printed myself. She wrote and thanked me.’ She counted to three silently. ‘At least her lady-in-waiting did. I kept the letter in my scrapbook. It’s very hot, isn’t it?’ She fanned herself with her hand.
They were descending now and it was a lot warmer. The air had changed from the sharper clarity of the high plateau and there was a warm mustiness about it.
‘It would have been cooler travelling if you hadn’t wanted to eat,’ he replied with some justification. ‘And it will get a lot warmer than this. Nairobi is six thousand feet above sea level, and we’re dropping down three thousand feet.’
‘How long will it take to get to the camp?’ she asked, looking around her and spotting with surprise and pleasure a herd of gazelle grazing near the road.
‘That depends on the traffic.’
‘On what?’ She gasped, her attention re-directed towards Lukas. ‘What traffic?’ The road stretched away straight and clear before them. They were passed only by an occasionally overloaded taxi being driven at a ridiculous speed, and saw the occasional truck driving towards the capital.
‘Not cars or lorries. I was thinking of the odd elephant who didn’t want to get out of the middle of the road.’
‘You’re joking!’
Satisfaction that he had managed to dent her confidence was written in every line of his darkly tanned face. ‘I once had to back five miles down the side of an escarpment, just because an elephant decided it wanted to walk in that direction,’ he said softly. ‘But not more than a couple of hours, I suppose.’
‘Where was that?’
Lukas glanced across at her. ‘The elephant?’ She nodded. ‘Down on the Zambezi.’
Not here. Relief swept over her. ‘And were you taking photographs for a calendar there as well?’
A sudden grin transformed his face. ‘I could have done. There were a lot of very pretty girls.’ Then the smile faded. ‘I was there taking some publicity photographs for Save the Children. They were trying to raise money for polio vaccine.’
‘Oh.’ George was silenced.
Lukas frowned. ‘That surprises you?’
‘No. I hoped that was what you were doing here.’
‘I see. Well, I’m sorry. You’ll have to take it up with your father … it’s his calendar.’ He glanced at her with a slightly puzzled look. ‘It beats dogs and babies any day of the week.’
Knowing the lengths she had had to go to produce the portraits of her nieces and nephews, George didn’t doubt it, but that was not what he meant.
‘Babies and dogs are harmless,’ she countered sharply, and regretted it before the words were half out of her mouth.
‘Some babies, and some dogs,’ he said coldly, and they drove on in silence for a while until they reached a bridge. Lukas pulled over, climbed down and held out a hand to assist her.
‘Why have we stopped?’
‘I’m indulging you in a little sightseeing,’ he said, although there was something about the glint in his eyes that belied that statement. ‘You did want to do some sightseeing, didn’t you, George?’ Hesitantly she placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her down. For a moment they stood in the baking sun, and George was acutely aware of Lukas’s scrutiny, and his warm fingers holding on to her hand. Glad of the protection of her glasses, she broke away from his piercing look and glanced about her.
‘Well? What are we supposed to be looking at?’
‘That,’ he replied, pointing to another bridge a little way up the river. ‘It’s the Tsavo railway bridge.’ She nodded uncertainly, wondering what could be so special about a very ordinary steel railway bridge.
‘It’s lovely. Thank you for showing it to me.’ She turned to climb back up into the jeep. He had kept hold of her hand, tightening his grip.
‘Surely you’ve heard of the man-eaters of Tsavo?’ he asked. ‘Or didn’t you do your homework before you came on this trip?’
‘I wasn’t told until yesterday that I had to come.’
‘Told?’ He shrugged and didn’t wait for a reply. ‘They were a pair of lions who killed and ate more than a hundred men working on a railway bridge.’
‘Good gracious,’ George said with polite interest.
‘That’s the bridge. I thought you’d be interested.’
‘Oh, I am. I love those old stories. They exaggerate so wonderfully.’
He laughed. ‘You think I’m exaggerating, do you? It held up the railway for over a year. There’s an excellent book about it. A personal account written by the chief engineer. I’ll lend it to you if you think you’ll have the time to read it.’
She gave him a long measured look but the hard profile gave nothing away. ‘Thank you.’ Lukas allowed her to pull herself free and she climbed back into the jeep, still not quite sure what Lukas was driving at.
‘They dragged one engineer right out of a railway carriage,’ he said as he pulled himself into the seat alongside her. ‘But most of the victims were Indian workers asleep in their tents.’ He laid the slightest emphasis on the word tent. He said no more, but gently let out the clutch and drove on. ‘Of course lions aren’t necessarily the most dangerous animals in the national park. There are some very nasty dudus.’
‘ Dudus ?’
‘Insects, bugs, creepy crawlies. It’s the Swahili word.’
Feeling cold and clammy, George wiped away the sweat that was gathering under the unaccustomed spectacles. Aware that Lukas was regarding her discomfort with some pleasure, she made an effort to pull herself together. ‘Oh, just look at that road sign. “Beware. Elephants.” Just like ponies in the New Forest.’
Lukas turned to her impatiently, but before he could make some caustic remark his focus shifted and he slowed the jeep.
‘What is it? Why are we stopping?’
‘Quiet. There are elephants ahead. They’re probably just going to cross.’ He gently eased the jeep into reverse in case the herd decided to investigate them.
‘Don’t be silly …’ George started, sure she was being made a fool of. But suddenly she could see them. Just on the edge of the road, merging into the green-grey scrubby trees, she caught the dangerous lifted curve of ivory and the slow movement of great ears. ‘Oh, but that’s incredible.’ Then, aware of his scrutiny, said inanely, ‘You mean they cross just where there’s a sign? How clever.’ Then she abandoned her tiresome alter ego and, longing for her camera, turned to reach her bag in the back, cursing herself for not loading some film before she left.
‘Be