An Image Of You

Cruelly she snatched this straw from his grasp. ‘Now, Mr Lukas …’

‘Lukas, just Lukas!’ he appealed.

‘Oh, yes. Like “just George”.’ She giggled, again. ‘Now Lukas, you remember what I said. Pa said I was to keep you happy. And keep you happy I will. However will you manage if you don’t have someone to hold your light meter? I’ll just go and get my bags, and then we can be off.’

‘Hold my light meter …?’ For a moment she thought he was going to explode. Instead he straightened and with a shrug said, ‘I’ll meet you out front.’

And he was waiting impatiently behind the wheel when she returned. She threw her bags into the back and jumped up beside him. He stared in horror at the floppy hat she had added to her outfit with what, modesty thrown to the four winds, she believed to be a touch of genius. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again in a hard line.

‘Well? What are we waiting for?’ she asked with a happy smile. ‘I thought you were in a hurry.’

He made no reply, started the jeep and executed a vicious U-turn before skidding away from the Norfolk Hotel.

They had travelled several miles before he spoke. ‘That is a terrible hat.’

George touched the offending headgear. ‘Oh. Do you think so? It’s just to keep the sun off. This is hardly Ascot, is it?’

He gave her a sideways glance, taking in her motley attire, and grinned. ‘Hardly. And I certainly wouldn’t want you to get sunstroke. At least the other girls won’t feel threatened.’

‘Girls?’ she repeated, refusing to get angry over his careless personal remark. After all, she told herself, she didn’t care what he thought of her.

‘They’re highly strung creatures. They don’t like competition from non-professionals.’

‘I’m sorry. I don’t understand. What girls?’

Lukas stared at her. ‘The models. There are three of them. Kelly, Amber and Peach.’ He sighed. ‘For the calendar. Your father’s calendar.’

‘Calendar.’ She breathed the word. It wasn’t a question, because she knew now the full extent of her father’s punishment. And half an hour ago she could have escaped. But not now. Now she was headed towards some unknown camp with Lukas. She had a few traveller’s cheques, but no return air ticket, no way of getting home without throwing herself upon her father’s mercy. And that she was not about to do. She was trapped and she would have to make the most of it.

‘Yes, calendar. Didn’t your father tell you?’

She shook her head. ‘He was having a little joke with me. He has quite a sense of humour.’

Lukas glanced at her and almost smiled. ‘Yes, I’d agree with that. So, tell me what you know about photography. What you’ve done.’ He added, a little grimly, ‘If anything.’

She didn’t answer immediately, couldn’t trust herself to, and she dug her nails into the palms of her hand to stop herself saying exactly what she thought. Lukas, it seemed, was in no hurry; his expression was unreadable as he waited for her to collect her thoughts. She sat desperately trying to think of something clever to say as Nairobi dipped below the skyline behind them and they began to drive eastwards across the empty plain.

For a while she had been enjoying the little game she was playing, but suddenly it wasn’t a game. She stared out at the wide horizons, looking for inspiration. The hills over to the right were hazy blue, and the plain rolled away from them. It was vast, beautiful.

George gave herself a mental shake. What on earth was she complaining about? Perhaps being a colourless doormat under the feet of Lukas for two weeks was more than flesh and blood would be able to sustain. But she would certainly try. And she might as well get some amusement from it.

‘I’ve taken lots of family photos,’ she said, hesitantly, making sure to keep her face quite serious. ‘The dogs. My sister’s babies.’ She stole a glance at Lukas. His face was set and hard as he took in her answer. ‘They are very good. Everyone says so.’

‘Dogs and babies.’ His voice was expressionless. ‘I see. Anything else?’

She pretended to think. ‘I took a photograph of the Princess Royal once.’

‘Oh?’ he said, rousing a little more interest.

‘Yes. She came to open a new wing at school. Of course she was just Princess Anne then … I sent her a copy that I printed myself. She wrote and thanked me.’ She counted to three silently. ‘At least her lady-in-waiting did. I kept the letter in my scrapbook. It’s very hot, isn’t it?’ She fanned herself with her hand.

They were descending now and it was a lot warmer. The air had changed from the sharper clarity of the high plateau and there was a warm mustiness about it.

‘It would have been cooler travelling if you hadn’t wanted to eat,’ he replied with some justification. ‘And it will get a lot warmer than this. Nairobi is six thousand feet above sea level, and we’re dropping down three thousand feet.’

‘How long will it take to get to the camp?’ she asked, looking around her and spotting with surprise and pleasure a herd of gazelle grazing near the road.

‘That depends on the traffic.’

‘On what?’ She gasped, her attention re-directed towards Lukas. ‘What traffic?’ The road stretched away straight and clear before them. They were passed only by an occasionally overloaded taxi being driven at a ridiculous speed, and saw the occasional truck driving towards the capital.

‘Not cars or lorries. I was thinking of the odd elephant who didn’t want to get out of the middle of the road.’

‘You’re joking!’

Satisfaction that he had managed to dent her confidence was written in every line of his darkly tanned face. ‘I once had to back five miles down the side of an escarpment, just because an elephant decided it wanted to walk in that direction,’ he said softly. ‘But not more than a couple of hours, I suppose.’

‘Where was that?’

Lukas glanced across at her. ‘The elephant?’ She nodded. ‘Down on the Zambezi.’

Not here. Relief swept over her. ‘And were you taking photographs for a calendar there as well?’

A sudden grin transformed his face. ‘I could have done. There were a lot of very pretty girls.’ Then the smile faded. ‘I was there taking some publicity photographs for Save the Children. They were trying to raise money for polio vaccine.’

‘Oh.’ George was silenced.

Lukas frowned. ‘That surprises you?’

‘No. I hoped that was what you were doing here.’

‘I see. Well, I’m sorry. You’ll have to take it up with your father … it’s his calendar.’ He glanced at her with a slightly puzzled look. ‘It beats dogs and babies any day of the week.’

Knowing the lengths she had had to go to produce the portraits of her nieces and nephews, George didn’t doubt it, but that was not what he meant.

‘Babies and dogs are harmless,’ she countered sharply, and regretted it before the words were half out of her mouth.

‘Some babies, and some dogs,’ he said coldly, and they drove on in silence for a while until they reached a bridge. Lukas pulled over, climbed down and held out a hand to assist her.

‘Why have we stopped?’

‘I’m indulging you in a little sightseeing,’ he said, although there was something about the glint in his eyes that belied that statement. ‘You did want to do some sightseeing, didn’t you, George?’ Hesitantly she placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her down. For a moment they stood in the baking sun, and George was acutely aware of Lukas’s scrutiny, and his warm fingers holding on to her hand. Glad of the protection of her glasses, she broke away from his piercing look and glanced about her.

‘Well? What are we supposed to be looking at?’

‘That,’ he replied, pointing to another bridge a little way up the river. ‘It’s the Tsavo railway bridge.’ She nodded uncertainly, wondering what could be so special about a very ordinary steel railway bridge.

‘It’s lovely. Thank you for showing it to me.’ She turned to climb back up into the jeep. He had kept hold of her hand, tightening his grip.