Footprints of Lion

by Beverley Harper

  ‘Each to his own, ’ Lorna murmured, head bent so Gerda could not see her flare of amusement.

  Conversation was stilted until Cameron, and then Duncan, put in an appearance. Both had hastily washed and dressed – Cameron still had water dripping onto his collar.

  ‘So, little brother, ’ Torben addressed Duncan. ‘Where is that young filly I hear you’ve been sporting around?’

  Duncan frowned at Cameron, who shrugged. ‘Not me, old boy.’

  ‘My fault, ’ Lorna owned up. ‘I was telling Torben about the Taylors’ new venture with sisal and it sort of slipped out.’

  ‘No matter, ’ Duncan said lightly. He turned to Torben. ‘Though I don’t sport her around. Tat is a friend.’

  ‘Still call her that, do you? I gather she scrubs up quite nicely these days.’ Torben’s crude response bordered on jealousy.

  Tanith Anita Taylor was one of the most beautiful girls in the district and her affection for Duncan was well known. At twenty-two, Duncan believed he was too young for commitment but, when he was ready, she would be the one.

  ‘Where are the others?’ Torben asked, suddenly peevish. ‘I don’t come here often. You’d think they might be around to say hello.’

  ‘Ellie is in Durban, as you well know, ’ Cameron told him.

  Torben nodded impatiently. ‘I meant Frazer and Meggie.’

  Lorna cut in. ‘Frazer is picking up some birds’ eggs from Will Green in Swaziland. We had a letter from Mister Selous, in Germany, saying he would greatly appreciate some Iseme eggs for his collection. Will has kindly offered to give him a couple.’

  Dallas did not condone the popular practice of bird nesting but, as it was for his friend’s research, he said nothing, even though he knew the huge kori bustard was considered royal game by the Zulus. Subtly, he changed the subject: ‘When Fred was here some years ago, looking for nyala, he saw some of your brother’s bird sketches. Frazer was away at school but his work impressed Selous so much that he wrote to him. The two of them have kept in touch ever since. I think Frazer might be asked to illustrate one of his books.’

  That information silenced even Torben. Frederick Courteney Selous had become a legend within his own lifetime. Arriving in South Africa in 1871 at the age of twenty, the short-statured Englishman started hunting and guiding to make ends meet. Respect for the animals and people of Africa soon overtook a basic desire for adventure and his interests developed into more scientific areas, although this didn’t stop Cecil Rhodes’s British South Africa Company from employing the young man to lead four hundred British pioneers into Mashonaland, ostensibly to thwart Portuguese slavers.

  Through his writing, Selous was now financing his own travels and was recognised by the world-wide hunting brotherhood as the greatest outdoorsman of his time. He was also accepted as an expert on game lore through meticulous research in the field and years spent collating information about each and every animal he encountered. He much admired the Bushmen of southern and central Africa for their extraordinary tracking and bushcraft skills. And while the avaricious nature of the Matabele bothered him, their courage and skill earned his greatest respect.

  Though Selous was not overly enamoured of the Boers – on one occasion writing to his mother, ‘mentally they are the most ignorant and stupid of all white races and have not one-tenth the courage of the Zulus’ – he did admire many aspects of their culture, publicly criticising Britain’s apparent misunderstanding of their motivation. Selous once said to Dallas: ‘How can you judge others unless you live with them and speak their language?’ It was an observation Dallas had never forgotten.

  The new revelation stunned Torben, who immediately felt his own talents should be recognised in a similar fashion. ‘Does Selous need help with the writing?’ he asked.

  ‘I think Fred can manage that on his own, ’ Dallas asserted. ‘It’s what he does best, these days.’

  Torben nodded, though his expression remained thoughtful. ‘And Meggie?’ he asked, changing the subject.

  ‘She’ll be home in the morning. Tanith is having a pyjama party.’ Lorna smiled at Torben’s look. ‘It’s all the rage.’

  ‘What on earth is that?’ Gerda sniffed in derision.

  ‘A girls’ get-together, ’ Lorna explained. ‘They sit around and talk about things. Sounds like fun to me. I wish we’d had something like it when I was their age.’

  ‘They stay out all night? In their sleeping clothes?’ Gerda was scandalised.

  ‘No, silly goose, ’ Lorna said, showing some exasperation. ‘The party is at the Taylors’ house.’

  ‘Even so, it’s quite unseemly, don’t you think so, darling?’

  Darling was too busy making up his mind to actually answer.

  ‘Why?’ Lorna challenged.

  Dallas braced himself with a look towards Cameron and Duncan.

  ‘Well, ’ Gerda blustered. ‘In their sleeping clothes?’

  Lorna ticked off points on her long, tapered fingers. ‘Slippers, peignoirs, neck-to-ankle nightdresses, nightcaps. What on earth is your objection? They sit in Tanith’s room, eat cakes and giggle about things they can’t speak of anywhere else.’

  ‘Perhaps there’s a good reason for that, ’ Gerda opined. ‘Some things are best left unsaid.’

  ‘Rubbish!’ Lorna cried, with a despairing look at her husband.

  Dallas was out of his depth but Duncan leapt into the fray. ‘I think it’s harmless enough, Gerda.’

  ‘You would. Nothing shocks you.’

  Duncan left it. The truth was that he had been Gerda’s first love. At sixteen, when he was eighteen, she’d confessed that whilst fond of Torben, her heart belonged to Duncan. This revelation frightened the wits out of him. Gerda was, Duncan thought, deceitful, full of family-learned prejudice, and likely to turn into a shrew in later years – a prediction which was becoming apparent even though she was only twenty.

  The rest of the family assumed the tendency for these two to bicker was a result of their similarity in ages plus the fact that Gerda often appeared to pick on Duncan. He, just as obstinately, would react in kind. Only a few months ago, Cameron had come close to guessing the real reason. ‘Anyone would think the two of you were married, the way you go at each other, ’ he said.

  ‘Don’t be stupid, ’ Duncan had snapped back more harshly than he intended. ‘She irritates the hell out of me, that’s all.’

  Cameron had thrown up his hands and walked away, chuckling at his brother’s momentary loss of composure. But the remark had stayed with him. Duncan was now more careful than ever around his sister-in-law.

  It was a mercy that, at that moment, Mister David rang the bell for dinner. Knowing Gerda expected the full courtesy treatment, Dallas offered her his arm. Torben took Lorna’s, leaving Cameron and Duncan to ham it up behind them with grotesque mincing steps, mimicking Gerda’s swaying rear-end. Mister David’s look as they entered the dining room was enough to stop their play-acting.

  For all her disapproval of the pyjama party, Gerda was not bothered about generously displaying her cleavage during the meal. As she bent forwards towards Duncan more often than necessary, Dallas wondered if a nipple would end up in the guinea-fowl soup. By some miracle, both stayed put.

  After dinner, Gerda and Lorna retired to sit by a fire in the other room, leaving all four men around the table with port and cigars.

  ‘Now, son, what is it you wished to discuss?’ Dallas figured they might as well get it over with.

  Torben looked uncomfortable. ‘I rather wished to speak to you about it in private, Father.’

  ‘It affects us all.’ Dallas felt his chin go out. He couldn’t help it, Torben made him defensive.

  Faced with three sets of inquisitive eyes, Torben backed down. ‘It can wait.’

  ‘It can, ’ Dallas agreed. ‘But you’ll still have to speak to all of us. I told you before, son, any more financial assistance from me is at the expense of your inheritance. I’m not a bloody bank and I will not allo
w you to treat this family as though I am.’

  ‘I ...’

  ‘If you cannot speak of it now, then my heart tells me you are not committed. I’m not interested in hearing about another half-baked idea. Spit it out, boy, or stay quiet. It’s up to you.’

  He knew he was putting Torben on the spot. A sense of fair play towards the rest of the family was his prime consideration. The lad had to learn that money did not grow on trees – not even the metaphoric ones so often used by Mister David to illustrate a story or Zulu belief.

  ‘No ...now is not the time. You’re right, Father, I’m having second thoughts. I can see a few flaws in the plan.’

  Dallas noted the change of tack. Torben was still thinking about Frederick Selous and book writing. His next words confirmed it. ‘When is Frazer due back?’

  ‘I’ve no idea, but if you’re thinking of what we spoke of before dinner – remember, this is his opportunity.’

  ‘He’s my brother, ’ Torben protested. ‘I just want to see him.’

  Cameron had been unusually quiet but now spoke up. ‘Really, Torben, this is too much. You use people with no regard for their own good. Let Frazer be. This could make him successful. Be happy for him and leave it at that.’

  ‘I resent your tone, ’ Torben flared. ‘It’s all right for you, sitting on the fat of the land. What about me?’

  ‘What about you? All you ever do is complain, connive and make excuses.’ Cameron was winding up. ‘The rest of us work like hell.’

  ‘Boys!’ Dallas held up his hands. ‘Enough. Let us have at least one family gathering where we don’t fight.’ Trying to ease the tension, he smiled across at Cameron. ‘Have you told Torben your news?’

  But Cameron had risen. ‘I don’t imagine my engagement to Virginia will be of any interest to Torben – there’s nothing in it for him.’

  Torben stared up at him. ‘Virginia! Well, well! I gave her credit for more sense.’ Greedy eyes bored into his brother’s. ‘Where did you get the ring?’

  ‘Same as you.’

  ‘Which one did you choose?’

  Cameron shook his head and left the room.

  ‘Why must you always do that?’ Duncan asked.

  ‘Do what? I merely posed a question.’

  ‘It wasn’t so much the question as the way you asked it.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  Dallas was fed up. ‘Actually, it was one of mine. Now, if one of you would be good enough to give me a hand, I think we should join your mother and Gerda.’

  ‘Yes, Father, why not?’ Torben answered. ‘Let us, as usual, allow the women in this family to diffuse anything potentially unpleasant. An excellent solution.’

  God! What drove the boy? Dallas had no idea. He said as much to Lorna as they made ready for bed.

  ‘We’ve been through that one time and again. I have no idea, ’ Lorna admitted. ‘I’m bloody sick of it and I’m bloody sick of Gerda and, yes, Cameron may well have been given a ring with more stones than the one Torben wanted but only because it was the one Gerda asked for, and I’m sick of that subject too. Dammit, Dallas, those two make my blood boil sometimes.’

  He wrapped his arms round Lorna’s waist and hugged her into his body. ‘I hesitate to say it but the main thing is they’re happy.’

  ‘Yes.’ She breathed in the smell of him, loving it. ‘It’s the only thing preventing me from doing something drastic.’

  ‘You?’ He grinned and kissed her. ‘Never.’

  They laughed together.

  In the room next door, Torben heard them. ‘Listen to that. They’re like newlyweds.’

  ‘It’s disgusting, ’ Gerda told him. ‘We won’t be like that.’

  This had not been what he meant and her response worried him. He let it go.

  THREE

  Meggie crossed her legs and made herself more comfortable on the sofa in Tanith Taylor’s spacious bedroom. Despite generous proportions, the room seemed cluttered with five girls and their accumulated belongings – bags containing all manner of night creams, chocolate snacks normally denied to them, magazines showing the latest London fashions and, wonder of wonders, Tanith had managed to place her hands on a publication devoted to women’s hairstyles.

  ‘This one.’ She held up an illustration. ‘What do you think?’

  Four pairs of eyes regarded the page, turned to Tanith’s perfectly oval face, then back. They all agreed. ‘Mmm. Looks good. It would suit you. Who could cut it?’

  The question was rhetorical. The girls ranged in age from sixteen to eighteen and their mothers still had the last say on anything they wore or adopted.

  Meggie grinned at her best friend. ‘You could ask Madame le Penn, ’ she suggested wickedly, as the others collapsed into giggles. The said Madame le Penn was a borderline hairstylist-cum-lady of the night and, as such, mention of her name was banned in polite society.

  Tanith tossed her luxurious brown hair. ‘Think I won’t?’

  The response came as a chorus: ‘Yes.’

  Their hostess, older than the next by nearly a full year, looked crestfallen. She liked to think of herself as the leader of these girls. However, Meggie, the youngest, was – more than likely– wiser than any of them.

  ‘Have you set a date for coming out, Tanny?’

  This subject kept them busy for a long time. Where, when, gowns, hair, food, music, men they admired – all needed to be dissected minutely and discussed seriously. Tanith had deliberately delayed her public passage into womanhood, citing her education – which had been lengthened by a year due to a fall from a horse – as the reason. In truth, Tanith wanted Duncan to realise she had no interest in declaring herself available to other suitors. Nothing seemed to work, however. Meggie’s brother appeared determined to treat her as no more than a friend, which didn’t stop him dallying with others’ feminine delights. So she waited, knowing he liked and respected her, patiently believing that he would be hers in the long run.

  Tanith had a special rapport with Meggie. Despite an almost two-year gap in their ages, a large difference so early in life, she found the younger girl to have more common sense in one finger than most of her friends had in their entire body. She was refreshingly outspoken as well, something Tanith appreciated.

  Meggie took after her mother in many ways but appearance wasn’t one of them. She was the spitting image of her father. Curly black hair had a life of its own whichever way she wore it. Up, and bits tumbled around her face; down, it swirled between her shoulderblades; caught back, it was a wild and bushy cascade. Meggie had the kind of face often described as cherubic when she was younger – a perfect rosebud mouth, small straight nose and dark, almost black, eyes that could burn when hurt or shine with happiness. As she matured, the innocence of youth was being replaced by a delicate grace, but she still resembled a young colt, long-legged and ready to bolt. The tomboy in her was merely an added diversion in a long list of attributes still coming together to make up the whole person – a process which fascinated both her parents.

  There was already so much more to Meggie than met the eye. On the surface, she might have gone through life as one of the privileged few blessed with good looks, charm and breeding. But as she grew older, her emotions deepened and she was overtaken by a desire to help others. This may well have stemmed from the family’s one true tragedy – the death of Kate. Seven years older than Meggie, Kate’s passing left a gaping void in everyone’s lives. Meggie took it upon herself, young as she was, to try to bridge that gap.

  Kate had been seventeen and happily anticipating her own coming-out party. Gentle and beautiful Katie. Wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly Katie. The black mamba that bit her remained indifferent to the life it snuffed out. Kate was human and, as such, an enemy: one who had come too close to its nest. Rearing up behind her as she passed, all Kate felt was a sudden impact on her shoulder. It had been so lightning fast that she thought the snake had missed her – until the pain started. The quick-acting neurotoxic poison had ov
er two hours in which to work before Kate could reach professional medical care. Black mamba venom can kill within that time and it was too late. She died of heart failure as her respiratory system deteriorated and finally collapsed, deep-purple disfigurement and two near-invisible puncture marks the only external evidence of a concerned mother protecting her young.

  Kate, who took on the ills and pains of every member of the family, was helpless to save herself. She left this world with tears rolling down her cheeks, a quiet smile of inevitability written on her shiny, sweat-soaked face. The family had been devastated. Katie was their little angel – the one they took their woes to; the girl who listened; the sister they trusted with intimate secrets; the daughter who filled her parents with a glow of special pride. It was Kate to whom Cameron first confessed his love for Virginia. Meggie would snuggle against her and whisper girlish hopes and dreams. She was the only one who could draw Torben out of his often secretive self. Even Lorna relied on her pragmatic wisdom and Dallas ...well, because she was physically a mirror of Lorna, Katie could do no wrong in his eyes.

  With a legacy of sorrow burning in her heart, Meggie stepped into the void. She was ten years old. Somehow, no-one knew how, she managed to remain sunny, young, yet mature beyond her years. Without exception, the family let her take over from Kate, and Meggie flourished under the unexpected and uninvited extra responsibility. Which was why she became close to Tanith Taylor. Mentally her equal, although physically far behind, Meggie wasn’t in the least bit interested in boys, although she good-naturedly accepted that could always change.

  The pyjama party was hugely successful. Tanith’s coming out dominated conversation but the girls managed to discuss all manner of other, hitherto prohibited, subjects, albeit in a whisper in case parents overheard. Three drifted off to sleep where they sat or sprawled, leaving Meggie and Tanith to sort out what was left of the world.

  ‘Won’t Torben be disappointed you’re not there?’

  Meggie looked disturbed for a moment. ‘He has to get used to the idea that we’re not at his beck and call. He treats us as if we’re ...’ She threw out her hands. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes he acts as if he’s the only one who counts.’ She gave a half-apologetic smile. ‘I feel guilty about not being there but, at the same time, I’d regret it if I weren’t here.’