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We’ve had a great week together and I think the growing tenderness between us has been hard to hide from our travelling companions. They’ve all smiled indulgently at us as we’ve become welded to each other’s sides or he has slung his arm around my shoulders, helped me more tenderly from the bus than anyone else. Whenever we’ve been able to, we’ve spent time alone together talking, laughing, learning about each other’s lives and I know that I’ve never felt so at ease with anyone before. I have forgotten all that is familiar, all that is waiting for me at home, and have lived just for the here and now. However, as much as I want to deny and delay it, the time for parting is almost upon us.
When the embers die down and the sounds of the night grow louder – the whoop of the hyenas, the low menacing roar of the lions, the grunting of the warthogs – we all take leave of each other, bracing ourselves for the early start in the morning. In silence, Dominic walks me back to my tent and in the darkness, he holds me in his arms.
‘What will we do?’ I ask him.
‘You will go back to your life, Just Janie, and you will very soon forget me.’
‘No,’ I protest. ‘Never.’
‘We have different lives. What else can we do?’
‘Is that what you want? That I just go home and forget you?’
‘No.’ He strokes my face with his long elegant fingers. ‘I do not.’
‘We’ll work something out,’ I promise. ‘Some way to stay in touch. Can you get access to a computer?’
‘Yes,’ he says. ‘There is one in the nearest town, just a fifteen kilometre walk.’
‘Fifteen kilometres to get to a computer?’
Dominic nods as if this is not a problem.
‘We could do that then, at the very least.’ I realise that I’m clutching at straws. How often are we going to be able to coordinate an instant chat? Dominic is going to have to walk all that way just to pick up a message from me or an email. Will he soon tire of doing that? I can call him. Even in the plains of Africa, there’s excellent mobile phone coverage and Dominic has a phone for work, but he can’t afford to call me or to text me. It’s a ridiculous amount of money and I’d struggle to find the cash for regular calls too. Why does the only man that I’ve ever fallen in love with have to be on the other side of the world, living in a time warp?
‘You must sleep.’
‘No,’ I say, ‘not yet. I want to stay awake all night with you. I want to lie in your arms.’
I would never normally consider doing this, but I have to face the fact that Dominic and I might never get another chance to be together and I can’t let this moment slip through my fingers.
‘Stay with me,’ I beg, unable to help myself. ‘Stay with me tonight.’
In the darkness, I see him nod. We unzip the tent and, together, step inside.
Falling into each other’s arms for the first time, we kiss passionately and with total abandon. Slowly we undress each other, Dominic shrugging off his red tunic, shuka, to stand naked before me. His body is like carved teak and I tremble as I run my fingers over his skin. I lift the strands of beads, his wedding band, from around his neck and lay them carefully on his shuka. He lifts me onto the bed and we lie in each other’s arms. The scent of his skin is intoxicating, alien, and I want to breathe him in for ever. My love smells of musk and spices and the Maasai Mara.
We make love, which is insane, but my body, my heart, can’t help it. I want this man inside me, body and soul. I gasp with pleasure as we join together and I see the answering joy in his eyes. Dominic moves above me in the black night and never before have I felt so fulfilled, so complete as a woman. I had no idea that it was possible to feel like this. Tears roll from my eyes.
He kisses them away. ‘Do not cry, Janie. You must be happy.’
Lying in his arms, my fingers trace the scars on Dominic’s body. ‘Where are these from?’
‘Lions,’ he says. He shows me a livid scar on his thigh. ‘This is where a big lion had its jaws around me. My brother, Joseph, saved me.’
‘You were attacked by a lion?’
My lover shrugs. ‘I hunted a lion,’ he tells me. ‘It was part of the ritual to become ilmoran – a warrior, a man. A way to show your strength.’
‘Wasn’t it terrifying?’
‘Oh, yes,’ he laughs, ‘but you are not allowed to show it. If you show fear then your family will not speak to you for many, many years. It is unforgivable for a Maasai to be weak. People must respect you or the shame is too much to bear.’ Dominic slings his arm above his head. ‘Our customs are changing. We do not hunt lions any more. Now we treat the lion as a brother. If we do not look after the lion then the tourists will not come to see him and the Maasai can no longer live just by their cattle.’ He smiles at me. ‘We need you to come to Kiihu camp.’
