Claire's Prayer

by Yvonne Cloete

  Maybe, Claire thought, her vulnerability was due to the emotional state she was in already when arriving in Zimbabwe. Her parents gone, maybe she just needed someone – anyone – to fill the emptiness in her heart. Even as the thought passed through her mind, though, Claire knew it wasn’t true. Even now she had to acknowledge that Seth Henderson was not just anyone. He was one of a kind, for better or for worse… and she just hated the thought of him being with Carol tonight. Would he kiss her? Hold her? Make love to her? Unable to handle her thoughts, Claire slammed the lodge door closed. Determindly humming a tune, she had a hot shower and then forced herself to concentrate on the book Naomi had lent her. She’d just exhaust herself past the point of contemplation, she decided – and, before long, was indebted to her vivid imagination for becoming totally involved in the plot.

  The light burned until the early hours of the morning. Claire read until she could not keep her eyes open any longer, and the words blurred. Finally, exhausted, she slept… but her efforts had had no effect. As difficult as it had been to block Seth out of her conscious mind, it was absolutely impossible to get him out of her subconscious. He walked through her dreams, tempting and tormenting her; showing her the way home and then deserting her in the wilderness.

  The seven-thirty knock on her door forced Claire to leave the bed. With no appetite, she made herself eat a slice of toast. With a twinge of guilt, Claire fed the rest of the meal that Joseph had left her to the insatiable monkeys. They were slowly getting braver, darting forward and approaching her open window, almost to touching distance, to grab at tasty morsels of bacon. Penetrating her gloom, unrestrained laughter bubbled from her as she watched a cheeky male dart forward and grab a piece of egg yolk, stuffing it into his mouth even as he fled. The monkey suddenly stopped, spat out the egg and stared at it in disgust before scurrying off again. The expression on the monkey’s face was absolutely comical. Still laughing, Claire threw her last scrap of toast into the huddle and turned away from the window. Dressing comfortably in tracksuit bottoms and a loose, wide-necked Victoria Falls t-shirt, Claire concentrated on Shoko. She spent time sketching her backgrounds, giving the impenetrable trees shadows like faces and branches like reaching arms, emphasizing the scary darkness of the bush veldt.

  Sighing and stretching out her shoulders, Claire stopped to make a pot of tea at ten o’clock, and reviewed what she’d created. This book would be good, she knew with confident certainty. There was something about the story that was really gripping her, and her involvement was evident on paper.

  Joseph brought lunch to the lodge at about twelve thirty. He’d been thinking about Claire during the morning, and about what seemed to him to be her self-imposed exile – but, he reminded himself, there was no point getting himself involved in the problems of visitors. He’d decided long ago he preferred to keep himself to himself. But, still, there did seem something different about this one… Pushing aside most of his concern, Joseph limited himself to asking her, “You all right on your own here, Miss Claire?”

  Assuring him that she was getting lots of work done, Claire realised she wasn’t just offering platitudes: her work had genuinely made her feel better. As Joseph closed the door behind him, she remembered her earlier lack of appetite and tentatively tasted the food on her plate. She realized she was starving. Finding that Joseph had prepared thin strips of liver devilled with onions, tomatoes and mushrooms in a thick sauce, she ravenously ate it all.

  Afterwards, feeling solidly contented and too full to sit down and work again, she closed the lodge door behind her and walked along the pathway from the lodge, away from the main house and further out into the bush. Breathing deeply of the fresh air, she appreciated how much she loved walking through this landscape. Nothing could beat the quietness, the uniqueness, of the Zimbabwean veldt. Claire had been walking for half an hour when a car horn intruded into her thoughts. As though it had signalled her time up, she turned decisively and walked back to the lodge, to plunge further into her work.

  The insistent hooting from behind his Jeep had caused Seth to come back to the present with a jolt. He been so absorbed in recalling the previous evening that he’d been oblivious to the herd of impala that was crossing the road ahead. Braking sharply, pulling over and waving his thanks for the alert to the driver behind him, Seth angrily pushed Carol and her taunts from his mind.

  He had just left her and Simon. The ranchers’ meeting during the afternoon had gone well: his concerned neighbours had met with the Park officials to discuss how they could assist the Wildlife Department with the cull. Seth felt a dull sickness as he thought of all the huge, gentle elephants that had to be killed – humanely killed, but killed nonetheless. He hated the idea of taking any life, but this was a very necessary evil. The meeting had not been the problem. Seth’s hands clenched on the steering wheel as he remembered the scene he’d had with Carol later on that night. She’d seemed to think that they could just pick up where they’d left off, as though the row at the braai had never happened. He’d been amenable at first, too… only when it came right down to it, he’d found he just didn’t want her any more.

  He’d sat up until late with Simon, tasting some whiskies he’d had imported and discussing the coming season. Seth enjoyed Simon’s company, and knew that his friend hadn’t stopped feeling lonely since his wife had passed away – if anything, it seemed he felt it more when Carol was at home. Carol had glued herself to Seth’s side throughout and, despite having little to offer to the conversation, would not budge. Hot colour flushed up from Seth’s neck, flooding to shade his whole face as he remembered what had happened after they’d gone to bed.

  Coming out of his room’s adjoining shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, he had immediately seen Carol draped over his bed in a slinky nightdress that left nothing at all to his imagination. She was, he’d had to acknowledge, a lovely woman, her figure full and alluring. Leaving the bed as Seth had entered the room, she’d come to him. The dimmed lights bathed her statuesque figure in a golden glow as she raised her eager, seeking mouth to his and then sank back onto the bed. The frustrations Claire had imposed on Seth should have sparked hunger in him for release but, even while looking at Carol, it had died.

  Running his hand over his flushed face and opening the Jeep window, he remembered closing his eyes and trying to imagine that Carol was Claire. But as soon as Carol had spoken she’d dragged him out of his dream state: it was not Claire in front of him; it was Carol – and he did not want her: not now, not ever.

  As Carol had begun spitting angry words at him, Seth had gripped the towel tightly. It was the only thing protecting his nakedness. In a deadly quiet voice, he had told her to get out of the room. Uncontrollably angry now, Carol had slithered off the bed. She’d stormed to the door and, pulling it open, had suddenly stopped.

  Turning to face him, rejection twisting her features into an ugly mask, she had hissed, “It’s her, isn’t it, Seth? That little Irish innocent. She’s the reason you don’t want me any more? Well, good luck to you getting her knees apart.” Looking him up and down contemptuously as she left the room, she added. “I prefer a man who can function like a man, not a…” The door slammed, drowning out her last few words.

  Shaking his head in order to block out Carol’s hideous words, Seth leaned forward and turned over the cassette in his tape deck. What had amazed him more even than the strange behaviour of his body was his total inability to retaliate – and his genuine, outraged offense at Carol’s insult to Claire. He couldn’t help comparing it with his own attitude to her when he’d asked her… He could hardly bear to remember.

  The impala had passed. As he pulled off back in the direction of Impunzi, Seth finally allowed himself to dwell on the repercussions of Claire’s effect on him, and what it might mean for his future. How could she command such a hold over him, even when she was miles away? Even at this moment, though, Seth could not see beyond the ache of his body. Far from giving him time and space to think, his n
ight away had only made his desire for her more acute. Could he pull off and head straight to her lodge? No. Squashing his need to see Claire – trying, in a way, to get control of his life – Seth defiantly made a u-turn. Even though he had told Tony he’d be back in time for dinner, he would go and eat in town. Until he could understand whatever it was he was feeling, he would not give in to it, and his best plan was simply to avoid her. He had never felt this absolute need for anyone before, and he did not like it. Need like this sucked a person in and consumed them, and he swore that wasn’t going to happen to him.

  Back in front of Shoko, so engrossed had Claire become in her story that it took the loud boom of the dinner gong to break her train of thought. Quickly, she ran a comb through her hair and ran to the main house. The amount of work she had managed to achieve had left her feeling very pleased with herself, and ready to face the world – even Seth. But when she arrived she found Tony and Naomi still awaiting him in the lounge, while Joseph kept the food warm. After a hour, Seth had still not shown up. Naomi went to tell Joseph to serve dinner anyway, and to put Seth’s in the warmer – “If you think he deserves it, Joseph!” she’d called. To her surprise, Claire had found herself really not caring whether Seth was there or not.

  At that moment, something seemed to change for Claire. She found some of the resolution for which she’d prayed, and the peace for which she’d come to Zimbabwe. For the next days, she kept quite happily to herself. The time slipped by, punctuated by cups of tea and Joseph’s distractingly tasty dishes as usual, but Claire felt genuinely as though her storm was passing. She gained satisfaction from the fact that she could mail off her next manuscript before her deadline, and tranquility from her surroundings. The days were still warm, but with a chill in the early mornings and evenings that made her feel cosy wrapped up in her bedclothes with her novels. Mostly she saw only Joseph; sometimes Naomi popped in, bringing an engaging bubble of chatter and news on her approaching wedding. Claire wrote long letters, too, to Aunt Ellen and Kacey, although Ireland seemed so far away now. In such a short space of time, her life had come to revolve around this place of heat and wildness. Zimbabwe had spoiled her: she felt that nowhere else, least of all Ireland, would ever seem like home again.

  Seth she saw only briefly at dinnertimes, if then, and Claire thought she’d noticed a change in him, too. Since he’d returned from Carol’s, he’d been distant and coldly polite to her – which was fine by her, Claire thought. They avoided each other as if by silent mutual agreement, and only once had their hands accidently touched and their eyes met, recalling the electricity that threatened yet to burn them both. It should have reminded Claire not to lull herself into too deep a sense of security.

  Claire’s retreat had been unnerving for her always-active hostess. Naomi, although largely preoccupied with dresses, flowers and her guest list, had been plotting. At dinner one night she looked around the table at her guest, brother and fiancé, and suggested enthusiastically, “Seth, I think we should all go to Hwange National Park for a few days. The wedding is pretty much sorting itself, and Claire hasn’t seen the game park yet – it’s the one thing I promised her we’ve still to do! You do want to see it, don’t you, Claire?”

  Claire was surprised. She’d settled into her routine so happily that she’d almost forgotten she had tourist duties to perform – but, having said that, she had longed to see lions in Africa. Swallowing a piece of juicy steak, Claire answered. “I’d love to see some of the National Park. I’ve seen so much wildlife so far, but there are a few animals I’d really hate to miss – especially the lions!”

  Meeting Claire’s eyes with the rush they’d both hoped had faded, and taking in the eagerness in her voice, Seth reluctantly agreed. “Okay, Naomi – see if you can book the three of us in at Sinamatella Camp for a few days.” He looked over and Tony and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Tony; you’ll have to stay and mind the fort. When we get back maybe you and Naomi can go away for a weekend?” Tony, as ever, was agreeable.

  Naomi telephoned the reservations office right after they’d finished eating. Waving a piece of paper as she came back into the room, she said cheerfully. “Well! We’re off tomorrow, Claire. I managed to book us in for two nights. I booked a twin lodge for us ladies to share, and a single for you, Seth. That okay by you two?” Grunting some sort of reply as Claire nodded happily, Seth left the room.

  Finishing her coffee, Claire wished Naomi and Tony goodnight, and decided to go and pack a bag for the trip. She was feeling pensive. That lurch in her stomach as Seth had looked at her was not good news. She’d have to work harder not to look at him… Watching the way the rays of moonlight played on the glitterstone pathway back to her lodge, Claire did not see Seth standing immobile with his back to her until she had walked straight into him. Giving a startled scream, she immediately turned to run. Her mind had not had time to register that it was not some ferocious animal of the night that she’d walked into.

  Seth spun around, and reached for her arm as she tried to dash back to the safety of the house. Feeling her genuine panic in the dark, and easily reading fear in the gleam of her wide, staring eyes, he pulled her closer to show her her impact had been with him.

  “It’s okay, Claire! Sorry; I didn’t hear you coming or I would’ve warned you I was here.”

  Seeing her mistake, Claire calmed down quickly – but a new kind of tension flowed through her now. Seth’s big hand was rubbing her shoulder firmly as she heard his deep voice speak. Laughing at her foolishness, she knew she ought to back away and bid Seth goodnight – but her feet were taking her in the wrong direction.

  Holding her slightly away from him, Seth looked at her searchingly. To protect and comfort her had been an instinctive reaction to her bewilderment and fear. But now the fear was gone, and the green eyes staring fixedly into his both begged and pleaded at the same time… for what, Seth could barely think. Unable to stop himself now that she was so near, Seth pulled her unresistingly back within the circle of his arms. Claire mumbled something dazedly, as if giving up the will to resist him anymore. She slid her hands over the light jersey he wore, and held him.

  Claire felt a slow, spreading warmth flow through her whole body, and a new kind of feverish panic claimed her senses despite the still of their bodies. Claire quivered inside as Seth’s warm hands traced each indentation of her spine. An almost-inaudible groan escaped his lips, expressing the intoxicating weakness that was enveloping Claire. She knew if it were not for him holding her, she would crumple and fall. In a weak-voiced plea, she begged him breathlessly, “Seth, please… oh… Seth, what’s happening?”

  Seth looked down at her, his face darkly flushed, and stared at her with disturbing intensity. In a voice that trembled slightly, he said, “Claire… I’m so sorry about the way I said it before, but…” He broke off, and sighed heavily. “What now, Claire? Where do we go from here?” Then, after a brief, electric silence in which Claire didn’t respond, he stepped away from her. “I can’t do this,” he said harshly. “I’m a man, and I want you as a man wants a woman. I can’t cope with this… you… playing with me, leading me on like this.”

  He murmured the last deadly words at her as he swung away, stalking off into the night and leaving Claire with a deep sense of desolation. Feeling confused and intensely alone, Claire raised shaking hands to her face. Shuddering with a deep need that actually hurt, she stumbled blindly to the safety of the lodge. Locking the door behind her, she fell trembling onto the bed. Drawing up her legs, trying to assuage her deep inner ache, she tried to understand what had happened. That embrace – and it had been only an embrace – had been more intense and disorientating even than the last time they’d… This time, she could read little wrong into her actions. But her feelings…? Why was it all so confusing, so unsettling – why did she still have these devastating, uncontrollable feelings for Seth?

  Seth walked for hours, and still the hunger in his mind raged. Walking around the side of the house, he spott
ed the crystal-clear, icy-cold swimming pool. Acting on impulse he pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes, lastly stepping out of his trousers. Striding determinedly to the deep end, he drew in a deep breath and dived. The shock of the icy water engulfing his warm body, driving the breath from his lungs. Ignoring his rebellious muscles’ reaction to the freezing water, he started across its length with a smooth, fast crawl. Soon he was oblivious to the numbing coldness, his arms slicing through the water. Only an hour later did he drag his exhausted body out of the pool. Lying flat on his back, Seth gasped oxygen into his burning lungs. Eyes closed, fists clenched tightly at his sides, he didn’t notice the chill in the air, or see the beauty of the stars in the inky-black sky. Forcing himself to his feet, Seth rubbed himself as best he could with his shirt. Beginning to shiver, he picked up the rest of his clothes and quickly entered the house. His tired muscles relaxed long before his mind eventually closed down and allowed him to sleep for the night.

  Chapter Thirteen

  For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.

  (Jeremiah 29:11)

  Claire vaguely heard the knock on her door… but snuggled deeper under the covers, choosing to ignore it. A hour later, it was the sound of birdsong and monkey chatter that finally brought her out of her sleepy state. Stripping off the clothes in which she’d slept, she pulled on her dressing gown. Her breakfast tray had been deposited outside her door. The eggs had congealed, and one slice of toast had become soggy due to the now cold fried tomato on it. Sighing, Claire carried the tray inside and made a pot of tea. Salvaging what she could, she ate some of the meal. After this unappetising start, Claire stepped under the piping-hot shower water to acclimatise herself to the day. Even though she had, so far, managed to block Seth out of her mind, her skin still remembered the touch of his hands. Roughly towelling herself dry, Claire tried to regain some sort of peace of mind.