Fucking Alex; God, she hated him. How dared he talk to her like some patronising father figure, and then tell her his children wouldn’t like her. That had been hugely hurtful. Thank God tomorrow it would be over and they would be going home. She realised she was crying-as much as at the disappointment of the trip, which she had so hoped would be happy and fun, as at the hurt he had just slung at her. Thank God they weren’t in much of a relationship; they could part at the airport and never meet again. Apart from the toothbrush and razor he kept at her flat, there would be no trace of him left in her life. Bastard! Bloody arrogant, bad-tempered bastard! She hated him. She…

Linda turned; better not go too far; it was very black, and it was the middle of the night. The park was noisy, sound cutting through the thick darkness, the raw cries of the birds and the chattering of the monkeys mixed with the occasional bellow or roar. Something moved on the ground horribly close to her; she jumped. Couldn’t have been a snake. Could it? No, of course not. She heard, from about fifty yards away, a rustling, pushing in the undergrowth; nothing dangerous, she was sure, a bird probably. But still… best get back.

She turned and realised that she had actually wandered off the main track, had taken, in the darkness, a minor one; grass brushed at her ankles. Damn. Bloody silly. Well, she couldn’t be far from the compound; she’d been walking only a few minutes. Actually, looking at her watch, nearly ten. You could walk quite a way in ten minutes. Still, she was fine; it was fine. The hotel lights were… shit, where were they? The track sloped slightly; she must just walk back down it, rather than up, and she’d hit the main track. Then she could easily…

Fuck. She couldn’t easily see anything. It was pitch-black-she hadn’t even had the sense to bring the torch. Well, that was Alex’s fault; she’d been too upset to think. She walked a few steps tentatively; was that up- or downhill? Hard to tell; the slope was very slight. She could be walking farther into the bush, or out of it. It was impossible to tell. Maybe she should shout… shout for help. But if she did, an animal could hear her. A hungry animal. Like the lion that had caught the tourist. Or the mother elephant, startled into defending her baby. What had the ranger said? Three tons of aggression. So… no shouting then. Just keep calm, Linda; walk steadily back. But… she didn’t know which way was back.

She stood there, willing herself not to panic, her mouth dry, her heart thudding. What should she do? What the fuck should she do?

“Several of us will go,” the ranger told Alex, “since you have no idea where she went.” His voice was calm, but cold. He was obviously very angry: with good reason.

“Yes. Thank you. I’m so… so sorry. Should I come with you?”

“Absolutely not. No. Stay here. If she turns up, if you find she’s just sitting by the pool or something, tell them at the hotel. And they can radio us.”

“Of course,” said Alex. He was absolutely confident Linda was not sitting by the pool. Or the bar. Or anywhere. She was out there in all that danger, possibly even now being savaged by something, her lovely body being ripped quite literally apart, and it was his fault for being so harsh with her, so critical, so cruel. Sam had been right: he really wasn’t worth having a relationship with.

He stood at the doorway, the light of the room behind him, that gentle, sweet candlelight, so at odds with what he was feeling, what was happening. He strained his eyes into the darkness. He couldn’t see or hear anything, except the Land Rovers that the rangers had taken. Jesus, those lions the other day had been only a mile or so away. Several of the other bungalows were lit up; he could see faces at the windows. What stories these people would have to tell when they got home: about this misfit couple who fought endlessly, put the safety of the whole camp and all the rangers at risk…

He tensed; he could hear the Land Rover now, drawing nearer. It pulled into the courtyard, its engine silenced. Alex stood, unable to move, more fearful than he could ever remember. They had called off the search; she had been found dead or horribly mutilated; no one could find her, she-

“Right, Alex. Here she is. Safe and sound, although she might not have been much longer; something quite big out there, could have been anything, leopard, lion… Please don’t do that again, Linda; you’re putting us at risk as well as yourself. Good night.”

“Good night.” Linda’s face was drawn and tearstained, distorted by fear and remorse. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“That’s OK. Night.”

He looked pretty cheesed off, Alex thought. He would have been, too. Some silly cow endangering his life, all for a bit of drama. He took Linda’s arm, pulled her in, shut the door. He shook her-hard. Again and again. Her eyes were shocked and afraid in her white face.

“I’m sorry, Alex. I’m so sorry.”

“You stupid fucking thoughtless bitch. How could you be so selfish, so insanely stupid…”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I… well, I’m sorry.”

“You’d better be.” He stopped shaking her suddenly, set her away from him. “You know, I could…”

“What?”

Suddenly he couldn’t stand it any longer. Her fear, her misery, his relief. He sat down abruptly on the bed, his legs weak, sat looking at her. She didn’t move, just stood there, staring back at him.

“What?” she said again.

“Oh, Linda,” he said after a long silence. “I’m afraid I love you. That’s what.”

CHAPTER 47

It was very odd to be seeing him again. Being with him, talking to him, having a laugh with him, doing everything with him, really… except touching him. That seemed to be totally off-limits. And it was all, really, she wanted to do. Well, more or less.

Still… it was something even to be working with him.

And Georgia. Georgia was great. Really cool-bit immature, bit spoiled, but funny and clever, and really good to work with, full of ideas, willing to do anything, put in endless hours. A real trouper.

They had formed a committee, which met regularly and then issued properly reported minutes at Abi’s instigation: “Formalising it all is the only way to push it forward; otherwise it just turns into a wank, everyone discussing their wonderful ideas and never doing anything.”

The committee members were Abi, who was chair-“Only because I’ve been involved in all this stuff a bit before”-Georgia, and William.

Then there was Emma, representing the hospital, and a friend of Abi’s called Fred, who worked for a charity and knew a great deal about the ins and outs of that industry, about fund-raising, about sponsorship, and running events in general. He said he might even be able to find a sponsor for them. He was doing it for nothing.

Fred wasn’t too much like anyone would expect a charity worker to be: he looked like a secondhand-car salesman, as Abi said when she introduced him to the group. Fred had taken the implied criticism of this with great good nature and said that selling charities and selling cars were much more similar processes than anyone would think. “You’re still getting people to part with more than they want for something. Charities are easier really, in a way, because you can work on their consciences.”

Abi knew that William had thought initially that Fred was doing it because he fancied her, but in fact he wasn’t; he was a happily unmarried man, as he put it, with a sweet-faced girlfriend called Molly, and a baby on the way. Abi spent a lot of time at the first meeting she brought him to asking Fred about Molly and the baby and when it might be due.

They had a notional date for the festival now, of July eighth and ninth; but as Abi said, it was no use setting anything in stone until they knew they could get some bands.