good team player she ate whatever was put in front of her.
Outside the refectory area, the sun bleached the ground, the deadwood of the spiky acacia branches that enclosed the camp, the washing which was stretched on lines between the tents, like flags. The Land Rovers, cooling under the trees, gave off mysterious metallic clicks and cracks.
Natalie was feeling famished today. While the rest of the crew was in the gorge, Jonas and she had visited Mgina’s brother Odnate again. They had found him much improved. He had stopped vomiting, his temperature was down, and the ulcers under his tongue were atrophying. He hadn’t regained his appetite yet but there was no doubt he had turned a corner. Natalie had been very cheered by what she had seen.
“Mutevu!” said Eleanor forcefully all of a sudden. “Can you please explain something to me?”
Everyone stopped eating and Mutevu stood up straight, holding the big serving plate.
“Yes, Miss Eleanor?”
“Why is it … why is it that each of us is given two chops, while Natalie here is given three? This is not the first time I have noted your—what shall we call it?—generosity in her direction. I know she’s new, I know she’s pretty, but is there some other reason for it? I’d just like to know, that’s all.”
Natalie blushed. She had begged Mutevu not to single her out but he wasn’t deterred; he kept piling her plate high.
Mutevu stood back from the table.
“Miss Natalie found my boot three days ago, Miss Eleanor.” He lifted his leg, to show her. “And she repair it where the monkeys tear it.”
Eleanor Deacon smiled. “So that’s it.” She nodded at Natalie. “Well done, my dear. I can’t complain, I suppose.” And she smiled at Mutevu. “And I have to say the food has been exceptionally good these past few days. You did say that you cooked better with your boots on, and it seems to be true.”
Smiling to herself, she went back to her own food. “Now,” she said, slicing into her chicken. “Although we need to be as thorough as possible, I feel we should finish surveying JDK as soon as possible, by the end of the week, certainly.” JDK stood for “Jock Deacon’s Korongo,” the name the local Maasai had given a cul-de-sac off the main gorge since digging started there years ago. “There is still a chance that we will find the rest of the skeleton to which the tibia and femur belong, but we have a lot to get through this season. Richard, Russell, how long do you think you’ll need?”
Russell North sat across the table from Natalie. Two evenings before, he had again joined her during her late-night smoke. They had again talked about their work and he had impressed her with his knowledge. And when she had produced the whiskey, he had presented her with some chocolate. Twice during their conversation, he had laid his hand on her arm. When he had taken his leave, he had once more stood very close, looking down at her.
And that was close enough, Natalie now knew. Someday, someday soon, she hoped, she could move beyond Dominic. But not with Russell, not here, not now. Physically, there was nothing wrong with him, but that wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. Russell was too raw, too … straightforward, even. That wasn’t a bad thing in itself but … Dominic had been so, so playful when they had met, so full of allusion, so light in his touch, so ambiguous in a gentle, soft way. Russell was pulling her in too quickly. Or trying to.
He now looked from Natalie to Richard, to Eleanor, to Arnold Pryce, to Daniel, to Jonas, to Kees. Then he nodded at Richard, who got up from the table and walked away from the refectory area to his own tent.
“Eleanor,” said Russell softly. “There’s something we were going to tell you all tonight, but since you’ve raised the question of timing now, we might as well discuss it now.”
“Oh yes?” said Eleanor. “What is it?” She swallowed some water from a tumbler. Across the camp they all heard the radio stutter into life. It was kept in Eleanor’s tent, which was bigger than the others. The pilots of small planes were swapping information about the weather, or talking to air traffic control at Kilimanjaro, the nearest proper airport.
Before going on, Russell turned in his seat. Richard was walking back from his tent carrying a towel wrapped around something. Back inside the refectory area,