The Best Of Times

by Penny Vincenzi

  “Yes, of course,” said Alex. He smiled at the neurosurgeon. Linda knew that smile. It came with great difficulty. She winked at him, said she’d soon be back, and followed the neurosurgeon across the room.

  Mrs. NS was rather fun: a doctor herself, a GP from Ireland. She was extremely grateful for the rescue-“I really thought I’d pass out with boredom in a minute”-and asked Linda who her husband was.

  “Ah, yes,” she said, squinting across the room, “very sexy, I thought. Touch of the Heathcliffs.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought the first time I saw him,” said Linda. “And the resemblance doesn’t end there. Very dark and brooding, he can be. Not that full of sunshine right this minute, actually. I think he’s cross because I’m ducking out of the programme tomorrow.”

  “I might join you in that. Hate the idea of it. What are you doing instead?”

  “Beautifying myself in the spa.”

  “Sounds good. Well, see you there, maybe. We’ve got to go in to dinner.”

  Alex scowled at Linda as she sat down beside him.

  “Linda, how dare you go round telling people I regard these things as bribery. It’s outrageous.”

  “But you do. You said so.”

  “That was a private remark. Passing it on here is rather like telling your hostess you don’t like her cooking. I can’t believe you can be so socially inept. Not to mention rude.”

  “Sorry,” she said, slightly alarmed at his anger. “I really am. You know, I’m truly enjoying it all; it’s a bit like being back at school.”

  “Well, try not to behave as if you actually were.”

  “Oh, do stop scowling at me, Alex; I’ve said I’m sorry. And you should be glad I’m enjoying myself.”

  “I’m afraid not. Or rather, not the way you’ve chosen.”

  “Oh, God,” she said, putting down her fork, “you really are a miserable bastard, aren’t you? First sign of a bit of a laugh, and you’re down on everyone like a load of shit. I’m glad I don’t work at that hospital of yours.”

  “Linda, you know perfectly well what I mean. It’s very discourteous, setting yourself up in some rebel group like this. You wanted to come and-”

  “Oh, fuck off!” she said, and turned her attention to the man the other side of her.

  “Shall we go to the bar?” she said, finally turning back to Alex.

  “I’d rather not. I’m tired. I’m going upstairs. You can join me if you like.”

  “I’ve had more promising invitations,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

  She had one drink with Martin and his wife, and then said good night to everyone and went up to their room. Alex was in bed, reading.

  “Good book?”

  “Very.”

  She pulled off her clothes, slid into bed beside him.

  “Let me distract you from it.”

  He turned away slightly; she snatched the book from him.

  “Oh, Alex. You’re so sexy when you’re cross.”

  Against all the odds he laughed. “I must be sexy a lot of the time, in that case.”

  “You are. And I’m not the only one who thinks so. Mrs. Neurosurgeon was saying how sexy you were.”

  “Oh, Linda,” he said, switching the light off, taking her in his arms. “I’m sorry. You’re a very generous woman.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes. Sam would never have told me some other woman thought I was attractive. Are we friends again?”

  “I never wasn’t,” she said.

  She managed to behave after that more as Alex would have wished: went on the obligatory shopping trip-not exactly a hardship in the delicious bounty of Cape Town stores-and went on the other major outing, down the winding coast road to Chapman’s Peak, an incredibly beautiful promontory carved out of the cliffs, and then on to Cape Point.

  They were heading north after that, to do a few days’ safari: travelling on the Blue Train for the first leg to Pretoria, where they were picking up a small private plane to Kruger National Park.

  The Blue Train was her idea, and her contribution to the trip.

  “If you think I’m going on an ordinary old plane for two hours when we can do the same thing in total luxury in twenty-four, then you’ve brought the wrong woman.”

  The Blue Train was sheer indulgence, an excessive, elaborate treat that made her feel, she said, like Lauren Bacall in Murder on the Orient Express. She and Alex had their own private suite: a drawing room that converted into a bedroom, complete with immense double bed, and an absurdly elaborate bathroom in which you could take a deep, hot bath and enjoy the landscape at the same time, a peculiarly heady, sexy pleasure. They also had their own butler; all the suites did. Alex didn’t approve, was hating most of it: Linda didn’t care.

  They had the first squabble before lunch, as she tidied up the suite for the third time.

  “Linda, do, for God’s sake, stop that; I can’t stand it.”

  “Well, I can’t stand the mess!”

  “Just sit down and watch the scenery!”

  She sat there, watching the incredible mountain ranges go past, sipping a glass of very nice Sancerre, and felt better tempered; by the time lunch was served she was feeling very sleek and told Alex so.

  “I know what that means,” he said, grinning at her.

  “You do?”

  “Yes. Some considerable activity a little later.”

  “You’re being very presumptuous.”

  “Sorry. Am I wrong?”

  “No, Alex,” she said, closing her eyes briefly and smiling at the intense sensation that quite literally swept through her, leaving her almost dizzy, “no, you’re not wrong.”

  “Thank Christ for that. I was beginning to think I’d never say the right thing again.”

  “I’m not terribly interested in what you say,” she said, reaching under the table, gently massaging his thigh, “not just now. More what you do.”

  “Oh, OK. Linda, do stop that. I can’t enjoy my food while I’m having an erection.”

  “Try,” she said. “It’s my challenge for the afternoon.”

  ***

  Much, much later she sat in the bath with yet another glass of champagne; he sat on the edge and smiled down at her.

  “That was very lovely.”

  “Yes, it was. Oh, look, Alex, there’s some wildebeest. See, there? God, how amazing to sit in a bath drinking champagne and watching wildebeest. I told you it would be wonderful.”

  “You were right,” he said, reaching out, tracing the outline of one of her nipples with his thumb. “It is very wonderful. All of it.”

  “Please, please don’t do that,” she said, reaching down for his hand, kissing it, then replacing it. “You know I can’t bear it.”

  “I thought you liked it.”

  “I love it. But it makes me feel I’ll have to… Oh, God, Alex, I’ll have to… We’ll have to…”

  “Have to what?”

  “You know.” She stood up, her red hair slicked back. He stood up too, lifted her out, bent his head, and kissed her; very slowly she eased off his bathrobe, and then reached out to pull down the bathroom blind.

  “Who do you think’s going to see us?” he said, laughing. “The wildebeest?”

  ***

  It was their first night at the lodge that the trouble really began. Set unfenced in the middle of the park, their hotel consisted of a main building and then a series of bungalows. Beautifully furnished, colonial style, with its own Jacuzzi in its own small garden, and a huge deck lit only by candles and oil lamps, it was, as Linda happily said, like something out of one of the really posh travel magazines.

  Dinner was outside, under the stars, tables set in a horseshoe round a vast fire; afterwards they were escorted back to their room by a guide, complete with rifle.

  “Never do this walk alone at night,” he said. “It’s very dangerous. Remember we’re not fenced. The animals can get in and they’re not pets. They’re wild and they kill. And th
ere are snakes, really nasty pieces of work. Breakfast’s at six,” he added cheerfully. “I’ll knock on the door at five thirty for morning safari.”

  “Oh, wow,” said Linda, wandering into the candlelit room, “this is my idea of true heaven. Such a wonderful idea, Alex. Thank you so, so much. I might not get up at five thirty, though. Give that bit a miss.”

  “Linda, you have to. It’s the reason we’re here, to go on safari, see the animals.”

  “Yeah, OK, but there’s another in the afternoon. I can see them then.”

  “You’re expected to go on both each day. They’re all different.”

  “Alex, I don’t want to. Not tomorrow. I’m tired.”

  “Well, I think that’s a little pathetic,” he said.

  “Oh, don’t be so stuffy. This is a holiday, not an army workout.”

  “Yes, and a very expensive holiday. I was expecting you’d participate rather more fully. I’m disappointed.”

  “Alex, you are joking, aren’t you? No, you’re not. Expensive indeed! Is that supposed to make me change my mind?”

  “I’d have thought it was a factor.”

  “Well, I’m sorry if I’m a disappointment to you, but I hadn’t expected to have to earn my stay here.”

  “That’s a filthy thing to say!”

  “It’s pretty filthy talking to me about how much it cost. Remind me to write you a cheque when we get back.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. I’m going to bed.”

  “Good. Because I’m going back to the bar. And don’t worry; I’ll pay for my own drinks.”

  She phoned for the escort and slammed the door after her.

  ***

  In the morning when she woke, he was gone; she turned over, went back to sleep, and was sitting in the Jacuzzi when he returned.

  “Good safari?”

  “Very good.”

  “What did you see?”

  “Animals. Wild animals,” he said stiffly. “I’m going to have breakfast. I’ll see you later.”

  Linda stuck out her tongue at his back. It spoke of huge hostility, that back. In fact, it was the most expressive back she knew.

  Later they made up, lunched by the pool, and went out on the evening safari together. It was very wonderful. Nothing could have prepared Linda for the moment when a pride of lions walked by in a long, sinuous line, so close to the Land Rover they could have touched them. Or when two giraffes stalked languidly past them supermodel-style, heads held high, eyes on some far horizon, totally ignoring them. She’d somehow expected the animals to be about two hundred yards away, not within blinking distance. It was astonishing enough to get her up at five thirty the following day for more.

  The highlight of that morning’s safari was an elephant and her baby; just a few days old, the baby was being caressed and urged along by its mother’s swishing trunk.

  “So sweet,” Linda said to the ranger, “and so gentle. But elephants always are, aren’t they?”

  “Until they’re threatened. Let her think you might hurt that little chap and you’d have three tons of aggression heaped onto you.”

  Probably because Linda was tired, they quarrelled dramatically that afternoon, so dramatically indeed that when they emerged from their bungalow for dinner-having missed the safari-they realised from their slightly embarrassed expressions that their fellow guests must have heard them. The initial cause was Linda’s getting sunburnt; Alex told her she was a fool to lie out at midday; she told him he was a stuffy old fart; he said he had seen enough skin cancer cases to make him cautious; she accused him of being overdramatic and depressing. Somehow after that they got onto the children, with him informing her it was as well she’d never become a mother, given her total irresponsibility of attitude: which was, she informed him, so far below the belt as to be totally obscene.

  He did apologise at that; they had a making up of sorts, and braved dinner; but afterwards, alone in the bungalow, she said, “Just as a matter of interest, Alex, why have you never allowed me to meet your children?”

  “What do you mean, never?” he said. “We’ve known each other only a few weeks.”

  “Months. Actually.”

  “All right. But we don’t meet very frequently. It just hasn’t been practical.”

  “I hope that is the reason. I’d have thought if you were in the least serious about me, you’d have realised I’d like to meet them. And them me.”

  “Linda, you know I’m serious about you. Neither of us would be here if I wasn’t.”

  “OK, then. Maybe it’s even worse than that; maybe you think they won’t like me.”

  “They probably won’t.”

  “Oh, what? Alex, how can you talk to me like that? You are-”

  “I mean, of course, they won’t like you because you’re not their mother. They’re bound to be hostile to any new girlfriend.”

  “What about her boyfriend?”

  “Yes, well, they certainly don’t like him.”

  “I thought they lived with him.”

  “No, they don’t. His house is in Marlow; Sam has her own near Cirencester.”

  “But they do see him?”

  “They have to.”

  “Well, why don’t they have to see me?”

  “Linda, this is absurd. Of course they don’t have to see you… I’m not in a permanent relationship with you.”

  “Well, thanks for that. I’m glad to have it spelt out.”

  Whereupon she pulled on a jacket, opened the door, and walked out into the darkness.

  Alex waited for a few minutes; he was sure she’d be back. The bar was closed; there was nowhere for her to go. And she’d never dare walk far without an escort. An escort with a gun.

  Five minutes later, he was growing anxious; only a few months ago a tourist had been savaged by a lion when he had got out of the Land Rover (totally against instruction) and crept up on a lioness and her cub to take photographs. Both lioness and lion had been shot.

  They had all sat soberly in the Land Rover while the scout told them this story, shocked. And now here was Linda, doing something even more insane, out in the darkness, endangering not only her own life but those of the people who must find her. Stupid, bloody-minded, stubborn woman. Arrogant beyond belief. Self-centred, over-dramatic; she deserved all she got.

  Alex rang for help.

  ***

  There was a track leading away from the lodge; one way it broadened into a wide dirt road, the other into the track the Land Rovers drove along on safari. Linda could see that might be a little dangerous; she simply could not imagine the road could be in any way so. They would exaggerate the dangers to make everything more exciting, and so that people didn’t take silly risks. There certainly hadn’t been anything more aggressive than an impala as they drove along it on their way.

  Fucking Alex; God, she hated him. How dared he talk to her like some patronising father figure, and then tell her his children wouldn’t like her. That had been hugely hurtful. Thank God tomorrow it would be over and they would be going home. She realised she was crying-as much as at the disappointment of the trip, which she had so hoped would be happy and fun, as at the hurt he had just slung at her. Thank God they weren’t in much of a relationship; they could part at the airport and never meet again. Apart from the toothbrush and razor he kept at her flat, there would be no trace of him left in her life. Bastard! Bloody arrogant, bad-tempered bastard! She hated him. She…

  Linda turned; better not go too far; it was very black, and it was the middle of the night. The park was noisy, sound cutting through the thick darkness, the raw cries of the birds and the chattering of the monkeys mixed with the occasional bellow or roar. Something moved on the ground horribly close to her; she jumped. Couldn’t have been a snake. Could it? No, of course not. She heard, from about fifty yards away, a rustling, pushing in the undergrowth; nothing dangerous, she was sure, a bird probably. But still… best get back.

  She turned and realised that she had actually wan
dered off the main track, had taken, in the darkness, a minor one; grass brushed at her ankles. Damn. Bloody silly. Well, she couldn’t be far from the compound; she’d been walking only a few minutes. Actually, looking at her watch, nearly ten. You could walk quite a way in ten minutes. Still, she was fine; it was fine. The hotel lights were… shit, where were they? The track sloped slightly; she must just walk back down it, rather than up, and she’d hit the main track. Then she could easily…

  Fuck. She couldn’t easily see anything. It was pitch-black-she hadn’t even had the sense to bring the torch. Well, that was Alex’s fault; she’d been too upset to think. She walked a few steps tentatively; was that up- or downhill? Hard to tell; the slope was very slight. She could be walking farther into the bush, or out of it. It was impossible to tell. Maybe she should shout… shout for help. But if she did, an animal could hear her. A hungry animal. Like the lion that had caught the tourist. Or the mother elephant, startled into defending her baby. What had the ranger said? Three tons of aggression. So… no shouting then. Just keep calm, Linda; walk steadily back. But… she didn’t know which way was back.

  She stood there, willing herself not to panic, her mouth dry, her heart thudding. What should she do? What the fuck should she do?

  ***

  “Several of us will go,” the ranger told Alex, “since you have no idea where she went.” His voice was calm, but cold. He was obviously very angry: with good reason.

  “Yes. Thank you. I’m so… so sorry. Should I come with you?”

  “Absolutely not. No. Stay here. If she turns up, if you find she’s just sitting by the pool or something, tell them at the hotel. And they can radio us.”

  “Of course,” said Alex. He was absolutely confident Linda was not sitting by the pool. Or the bar. Or anywhere. She was out there in all that danger, possibly even now being savaged by something, her lovely body being ripped quite literally apart, and it was his fault for being so harsh with her, so critical, so cruel. Sam had been right: he really wasn’t worth having a relationship with.