Jackal's Dance (28 page)

Shame flared in Thea's eyes and she brought both hands to her face.

The row had been her fault. Billy had said they'd discuss the baby later but she persisted. He'd grown impatient and then angry. The cold denunciation of their marriage had been a deliberate attempt to punish and hurt. In Billy's mind, she deserved it. He still could not believe how Thea could allow herself to fall pregnant. She must have known that erratic use of the pill was asking for trouble. Billy convinced himself that his wife had fallen pregnant on purpose. Well, he wasn't going to stand for it.

Billy took a deep breath, trying to calm down. It was essential that he think fast and straight. Fact one, he wanted this job. Fact two, the position required a wife. Fact three, he didn't love Thea. One plus two minus three equals diddly squat. Okay, options. What are they? Find a similar job that didn't require a wife. He discarded that idea as impractical. He'd been fortunate, in the right place at the right time, to get this one. No-one else was likely to take him on with only nine months' experience. The alternative? Stay married to Thea for another year or so, baby and all. Question: Could he do it? Answer: Only one way to find out.

Billy knew he'd have his work cut out trying to convince Thea that he hadn't meant all those things he'd yelled at her. He also realised that if he could talk her into staying he would have to make more effort as a husband in order to make the relationship work. She'd be as skittish as hell right now. Damn! Why was life so bloody complicated? As for the baby – how good an actor could he be? It was fair enough to maintain a display of disapproval
over Thea's deception, but for how long would she put up with it?

Think. For God's sake, how badly do you want this job?
The answer came to him loud and clear. Billy went in search of Thea.

He couldn't find her anywhere. The kitchen staff were of no help, nobody was in the laundry, housekeeping was shut and locked. Perhaps she'd gone down to the generator. Billy headed for the workshop. That was when he discovered that three game-viewing vehicles were in use. Strange. Only ten people should be out this afternoon. He'd taken the bookings and drawn up the rangers' roster himself. Caitlin and Dan were on duty. Chester and Sean had to be around somewhere. Perhaps one of them could explain the missing third vehicle. Diverted from patching things up with Thea, Billy checked the dining room and bar. Like his wife, Sean and Chester were nowhere to be seen. Starting to feel frustrated, he made his way to the line of motel-like rooms that comprised the rangers' accommodation.

Chester's door was shut. Billy rapped once and tried the handle. It was unlocked so he peered around the door. The room was empty. ‘Where is everyone?' he muttered. The next room was Sean's.

The door, kicked shut while he held onto Thea, hadn't caught. Sean didn't notice. It stood slightly ajar. Billy just pushed it open and stepped into the room.

Thea lay naked on the bed, hands covering her face. Sean, wearing only socks, was by her side, one
hand on her arm. Their clothes were scattered all over the floor.

Billy's shock was total. Everything leading up to this moment cleared from his mind. Here was his wife,
his own fucking wife
, in bed with another man. Billy completely forgot that he didn't love her, forgot insisting that they go separate ways. She was his fucking wife! The woman belonged to him. And here she was stark naked in bed with someone else.

Her face was in her hands and as Billy stood unseen and immobilised by disbelief, he heard her muffled words. ‘You took advantage . . . you knew I was upset. I'll never forgive you, never.'

‘I didn't mean . . . It just happened. Thea, look at me, please listen, I would never hurt you. I love you, Thea. I've been in love with you since you got here. Seeing you upset, having you so close, I couldn't help it. It was wrong of me, I know. It was my fault. I'm sorry.'

Thea groaned, then rolled towards him, her arms folding around him. ‘It was my fault too.'

Sean held her tightly. Her face was buried into his neck and, for a few seconds, he thought she was crying. Then realisation dawned. She was forgiving him. ‘It won't happen again,' he said against her hair. ‘Don't let it spoil our friendship.'

She pulled back and looked at him, a rueful smile on her lips. ‘We both know that our friendship –' An indistinct shape on the periphery of her vision came into focus and Thea realised she was staring into the disbelieving eyes of her husband.

Billy found his voice. ‘So this is what you get up to behind my back.'

‘Jesus!' The blasphemy burst involuntarily from Sean, his own shock complete.

‘How long has it been going on?'

‘Billy . . .' Thea's throat constricted and she couldn't speak.

‘Billy,' he mimicked. ‘Yes it's me, Billy. Who were you expecting, your next customer? And I asked you a question.'

Sean was desperate to defend Thea, but before that, he needed to find his underpants. He had never felt so vulnerable as he did now with Billy's eyes raking over his nudity. There was no way to get around the situation with any degree of grace but somehow he had the presence of mind not to be panicked into an undignified scramble. Swinging his legs off the bed, Sean felt an indescribable surge of relief when he saw salvation at his feet. With his manhood safely out of sight, Sean sought to make the best of a very bad situation.

‘Don't blame Thea. This was my fault entirely.'

‘How magnanimous,' Billy sneered. ‘Didn't look to me like little Miss-Butter-Wouldn't-Melt-In-Her-Mouth had any objections.'

Sean tossed his T-shirt to Thea who gratefully pulled it on. ‘I took advantage of her. She was very upset. It's never happened before.'

‘And I'm supposed to believe that? Even if I did, do you really think it'll make me feel better?'

Sean's eyes locked with Billy's. ‘It's the truth,' he said softly.

‘So that's why you were telling my wife how much you loved her.'

Sean didn't flinch. ‘I do.'

‘Let me try and get this straight. You're in love with my wife. I catch you having sex with her. You expect me to believe it's just a one-off fuck?'

Sean's voice turned hard. ‘Believe what you like. You're the one who wants a divorce.'

Billy ignored that. His eyes bored in to Thea. ‘Whose baby
are
you carrying?'

The crude and unfair implication cut through Thea's shock. She turned white. ‘Don't,' she pleaded. ‘You know it's yours.'

‘Do I? You waited long enough to tell me. How do I know it's mine? From what I've just seen, it could be anybody's.'

Sean's fists bunched but he stayed where he was.

Thea started crying again, great wracking sobs shaking her.

Billy remained unmoved. ‘Get dressed. Go to the cottage. I'll deal with you later.' She didn't move. ‘Hurry it up. Get out of my sight, you disgusting whore. To think I was looking for you to apologise. One little spat and you head straight for the arms of lover boy. By Christ, you'll be sorry for this.'

Sean had been goaded far enough. Physical or emotional abuse, whatever Billy's meaning, the threat was clear. ‘Touch her, or upset her any more than you already have, and it's me you'll be dealing with.'

By now Billy had worked himself into such a
rage that Sean's words only added fuel. ‘Not before I deal with you, you won't.'

Sean had managed to make twenty-six without ever having to use his fists. The prospect didn't frighten him, nor did it hold any particular appeal. Billy's injured outrage was probably justified, despite the fact that he didn't love Thea. If roles were reversed, Sean would have reacted the same way. But Billy wasn't fit. Sean understood himself well enough to know that in a fist fight he'd probably lose his temper and inflict real damage on the lodge manager. He had two options. Back away from confrontation and make himself look like a coward, or take the initiative and knock the wind out of Billy's sails. Sean was only human. His right hand shot out and a clenched fist caught Billy squarely under the chin. The result exceeded even Sean's expectations. Billy flew backwards, hit the wall, slid down it and slumped to the floor.

‘Billy!' Thea screamed, jumping up and rushing to him.

Sean stood back, rubbing his fist. He hadn't expected the encounter to hurt quite as much.

‘Why did you do that? You hit him when he wasn't ready.'

‘Thea! He'll be okay. I didn't think . . . Oh shit, what a mess.'

‘How could you?' She bent over Billy. ‘Billy, darling. Are you . . ?' She looked up at Sean. ‘You might have killed him.'

‘He threatened you.' Sean stared at Thea. ‘You don't think . . ? He's not dead, is he?'

Billy moaned.

Thea looked relieved, then horrified, as her state of undress hit home. She seized at her scattered clothes, pulling them on haphazardly. ‘For God's sake, get dressed.'

She was still wearing Sean's T-shirt but he found his shorts and put them on.

Billy tried to sit up, one hand feeling for blood, opening and shutting his mouth experimentally. He looked at Sean through slitted eyes. ‘You're out of a job, Hudson.'

‘That's not your decision, Abbott.' Sean knew he was in the wrong, horribly in the wrong, but he'd be damned if this creep was going to bully him.

Thea found her shoes. ‘Shut up, both of you. Are you all right, Billy? Here, let me help you.'

Sean felt like a spectator, involved but not involved. He'd stepped between husband and wife in the worst possible way, and would do it again if Billy hurt Thea, but he was still an outsider. The realisation was painful.

Thea helped Billy to his feet. With no words, or even a look back, they left Sean's room.

Groaning, he sank onto the bed. What a mess! What a damned fool he'd been. He should never have allowed his feelings for Thea to surface. She'd come to him as a friend and he'd betrayed that friendship, taking advantage of her distress. And now? She probably considered him as a dishonourable womaniser who thought nothing of making love to another man's pregnant wife. Sean buried his face in both hands. What a stupid prick
he was. Any chance he might have had with Thea was well and truly blown. Even with her marriage to Billy in tatters, even if she were free to love someone else, it would never be him.

He could smell the scent of her on his hands. It was almost more than he could bear.

Chester had switched on the walkway's soft, low voltage lights which were powered by a solar-boosted battery. As they heard the group approaching, the trackers supplemented this with the vehicles' headlights. By the time everyone got back to the Land Rovers, beyond the circle of illumination it was a fully dark, black velvet night.

Gayle, so excited by the proximity of elephant and lion that she'd completely forgotten about another drink, was talking quietly to Matt about making a return trip next year.

‘Just imagine,' James said to Mal. ‘Those animals could be no more than a few feet away on the other side of this fence.'

Caitlin heard and smiled. There was no mistaking nervousness in the American's voice. She knew, however, that perceived danger in the man's mind would grow with time and translate into sparkling dinner conversation, emotive stuff that could very well result in others wanting to come and see for themselves. It happened time and again. There was sound business wisdom in allowing a degree of fear to roam through a tourist's imagination – not too much, just enough to
stimulate some embellishment and improvisation in the tales taken home.

Philip settled himself beside Felicity and asked, ‘If you had two lines only to describe those lion, what would they be?'

‘The trouble with lion is that

They're not just an overgrown cat.'

Felicity hadn't hesitated, horribly misquoting Ogden Nash.

Philip wasn't familiar with the American poet's work and laughed delightedly. ‘Very good.'

‘Not strictly my own,' Felicity admitted. ‘How about you?'

‘Poetry?' Philip pulled a face.

‘Give it a try.'

He frowned, pretending to think hard. Then,

‘I once met a lion in the bush
,

And ran like hell.'

Felicity groaned.

‘I'm reliably informed that poetry doesn't have to rhyme.'

‘True,' she grinned. ‘But it does have to flow. Want some good advice?'

‘Don't give up my day job?'

‘Took the words right out of my mouth.'

Three engines roared into life and the vehicles drove off, each taking a different route back to the lodge.

Twelve pairs of eyes watched the Land Rovers leave. Twelve men hidden in the bush just fifty metres from the enclosure. Once the tourists were
out of sight, their leader rose and gestured that the others should follow. Their destination lay thirteen kilometres to the east – Logans Island Lodge.

They walked in single file, heavily weighed down with backpacks and weapons, and they made scarcely any sound at all. These men, hardened by years of living rough, were members of the National Union for the Total Liberation of Angola, or UNITA as it was more commonly called. Declared enemies of the state in Angola, all were accustomed to the inconvenience of life in hiding.

The 1994 British-brokered Lusaka Peace Accord had been successfully negotiated and signed by UNITA's leader, Dr Jonas Savimbi, and the Angolan government. But Savimbi was a man without a conscience. He ignored the accord's intent and UNITA went underground, recruiting in secret, paying for modern weapons with diamonds stolen from mines in areas of Angola where they still carried clout. Despite being certified as demobilised and disarmed by the Tripartite Commission of America, Russia and Portugal, UNITA actually built up a fighting force of some sixty-thousand loyal followers.