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‘He left me for someone else over a year ago,’ I add, not sure why I’m telling the story of my failed love life to this handsome stranger.
‘That is a very bad thing to do,’ he concludes.
Shrugging my shoulders, I say, ‘It was probably for the best. He’s happier now.’ It reminds me of Paul’s impending marriage, of the child on its way, of how I have been left behind. ‘I think I am too.’
‘There is another man?’
I think of Mike, my friend, my neighbour, and his halting, uncertain and very unexpected kiss at the airport. What will happen with Mike when I go home? Will we pick up where we left off? Will things be different between us? Will we have that dinner date and suddenly see each other in a different light? It’s too complicated to think about myself, let alone explain to anyone else.
‘No,’ I say. ‘No other man.’ The conversation has dwelt on my inadequacies for too long so I ask, ‘Do you have family, Dominic? A wife? Children?’
He shakes his head. ‘This necklace,’ he lifts the strands of colourful beads around his throat to show me, ‘this is the necklace of a married man. I had taken a wife,’ he says, ‘when I became a warrior. That is our way. That is what we must do. Our marriage was arranged by our parents when we were very small. We were very happy together but my wife, she died two years later during the birth of our child. The child, a boy child, died too.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
Now it is Dominic’s turn to shrug. ‘It is the way of Maasai men to take a great number of wives. But I find that I cannot, Just Janie. It is the way of my people, my culture, but it is not my way.’ Dominic throws another log on the fire and the sparks fly up. ‘My daddy has four wives. That is a good thing. A man must have many cows and many wives and many children to be a rich man. I have many cattle, Just Janie. I could afford to buy many wives. I should have many children. That is important to my people. Now I wear the necklace of a married man, but I live alone.’
‘Perhaps you’re just not ready,’ I suggest.
‘It has been a long time. That is seen as weakness.’
‘Not where I come from.’ I smile at him in the darkness.
He returns it. ‘We have talked for a long time. Now you must go to bed or you will be too tired for your day.’
I stand and go to walk away.
‘You must let me take you home.’
Oh, God. The lions. How could I forget that?
So he escorts me to my tent and once we’re beyond the light of the fire, I can hardly see an inch in front of me whereas Dominic is still foot-sure. His hand under my elbow comforts and steers me. Eventually, we reach my tent and I sigh with relief. Together, we stand on the veranda in the pitch darkness.
‘Thank you, Dominic. Asante.’
‘Karibu. You are most welcome, Just Janie.’
Then there’s the most fearsome noise that vibrates through the night air, shattering the silence. It rumbles under the ground and strikes terror in my heart. I resist the urge to jump into Dominic’s arms. ‘What’s that?’
He laughs. ‘It is our lady lions. Do not be afraid. They are just telling everyone that they are out on the town. They are far away yet.’
‘How far?’
‘Two kilometres.’
‘That sounds very near to me.’
‘Soon they will be near.’
‘They’re coming this way?’
‘Yes.’ Dominic nods. ‘Lie in your bed and enjoy the sounds of the night. You will be safe, Just Janie. I am here.’
And, I know, just know, that I’m not going to get a wink of sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I force myself to undress. If I’m going to get eaten by a lady lion and her friends then I’m not entirely sure I want to be in my pyjamas while they do it.
Ridiculously, I make sure that my tent is securely zipped up – as if that’s going to save me from a marauding pride of hungry lions. Then I slither down in the bed, sweating and not just because the hot-water bottle in here is still scalding. I’ve never camped before, even in a posh tent, and I’m not sure that doing it alone – particularly for the first time and, more particularly, for the first time surrounded by lions and such – is the best idea.
Reluctantly, I turn off the light. The blackest, blackest pitch black I’ve ever known fills my vision and I check that I have actually got my eyes open because I can see nothing, nothing at all. I’m very glad that I gave the tent a thorough bug inspection and didn’t find anything with copious legs before I settled down.
Sitting around the campfire, the crackling of the flames and the spitting of the logs, plus the low murmur of conversation coming from Dominic and me, helped to disguise the many noises of the African bush at night. Now, right outside my tent, right by my head, I can hear something moving slowly through the scrub, chomping at the bushes as it goes and it sounds like something big.
