Stiletto Safari (13 page)

The cubs raced down to the riverbed and immediately started lapping up the water. Hamish pulled a picnic blanket from the backpack along with some iced bottles of water.

Spreading the blanket out, he explained, “I thought you might like to have dinner in the bush with the cubs rather than at the school.”

Hamish handed me a bottle of water and sat down on the rug. The cubs were scampering around, chasing each other along with a stray butterfly or two.

“Aren’t you worried about them running off?” I asked.

“No, not at all. They’re still too young to fend for themselves. Lions are also very social, and we’re their de facto pride.”

As if to prove the point, one of the cubs came and lay on the picnic rug next to Hamish. It looked hot and panted lazily before grooming its oversized paws.

The other cub was trying to climb a nearby tree without much success. It managed to get up about a meter before having to ungracefully slide back down bottom-first.

“I bet you didn’t know that lions climb trees, did you?” Hamish asked.

I shook my head.

“Tree-climbing lions are quite common in some parts of Africa, mainly Tanzania and Kenya. Some of the wild lions here climb, but unlike leopards, they don’t make it up very high. I think Shakira will be a climber, but Umbilly is too lazy.”

Hamish leaned over and rubbed Umbilly’s tummy. Umbilly submissively rolled over and stretched out. It was hard to believe that such a beautiful wild animal was behaving exactly like a suburban Labrador.

Shakira had given up trying to climb the tree and was nosing around Hamish’s backpack. “It looks like it’s dinnertime,” Hamish said, jumping to his feet. “Yes, yes, Shakira, it’s cubs first.” Shakira was making a grumbling noise from the back of her throat.

Hamish pulled out a large airtight container and pointed to the base of a tree. “I’m going to feed the cubs over there. While they’re eating, don’t go near them. Cats become aggressive over food.”

Hamish threw two slabs of meat to the cubs. After a few moments of snarling and bickering, they each retreated with a piece.

“What are they eating, or would I rather not know?”

“Tonight, donkey. There are a number on the property that are used to feed the cats.”

I’ve always liked donkeys, but decided not to air my views. I guess carnivores couldn’t be expected to eat grass.

“I hope we’re not eating donkey.” I was suddenly feeling ravenous.

Hamish was busily washing his hands under a canteen of water. “Oh dear, it looks like you might be going hungry.”

“Haha, hilarious. What have we got? I’m starving.”

“Well, if you don’t like donkey, I hope quiche, salad and chutney will do.” Hamish pulled the food out.

I nodded approvingly. The food looked mouth watering.

“All homemade,” Hamish added with a little flourish.

“Impressive,” I replied helping myself to some quiche and chutney. “I don’t cook. In fact, I don’t even know how to turn my oven on.”

“You’re kidding?” Hamish sounded genuinely surprised. “What do you eat then?”

“Oh, the firm where I work orders food in and I usually just eat in front of my PC. When you’re charging in six minute units you don’t have the luxury of enjoying a long, leisurely meal,” I explained.

“That’s not much of a life,” Hamish responded thoughtfully.

At that precise moment one of the cubs flopped down on the picnic rug causing me to somehow spill chutney all over Hamish’s white shirt.

“I’m so sorry,” I said flustered trying to mop up the mess with a tissue. While I still had a somewhat dim view of Hamish’s personality my fingers involuntarily tingled at the feel of his muscular body. And the more I rubbed the more I could feel his muscles rippling under my hands.

“Zara, stop.” Hamish caught my hand in his. “I’ll just wash my shirt off in the stream,” he said good-naturedly.

He was standing above me and even though I definitely wasn’t looking I couldn’t help but notice Hamish unbuttoning his shirt. His body looked tanned and oh so toned.

Suddenly I felt like a sixteen year old with a ridiculous crush. My cheeks were flushed and I didn’t know where to look. This was ridiculous! It wasn’t like I’d never seen a man with his shirt off I thought annoyed at my adolescent behavior. Deliberately I looked up at Hamish. The view was every bit as good as I expected. Better in fact.

“Right, I’ll be back in a minute,” Hamish called over his shoulder as he ambled down to the stream.

Pull yourself together
, I whispered angrily to myself.
One look at his body and you’ve gone to pieces. You’re not that shallow. Repeat, you’re not that shallow
.

“What was that?” Hamish was standing bare-chested in front of me wringing out his shirt.

“Huh,” I dumbly responded, my heart pounding.

“You were saying something about shallow.”

“Ah, um, I was just worried about the water being too shallow to wash your shirt,” I lied. God, I sounded like a complete idiot. I couldn’t believe I’d been talking out loud.

“No, it was fine. Look.” Hamish held up his clean shirt before hanging it on a near-by branch to dry.

He then sat down beside me as though lounging around semi-naked was the most normal thing in the world. He was talking, but I couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. My eyes kept being drawn to his body. What was wrong with me?

Just as I felt I couldn’t handle it anymore Shakira gave a low, menacing growl and Umbilly sat upright, ears back, sniffing the air.

“Time to go,” Hamish said, lightly springing to his feet and mercifully pulling on his shirt. Shakira and Umbilly were looking quite agitated.

“What’s spooking the cubs?” I whispered relieved that Hamish was now fully clothed.

“I’m not sure, but I think we should get them back to camp. They’re skittish and I don’t want them running off.”

“Are we in any danger?” My heart was pounding.

Hamish shook his head. “Unlikely. If the cubs have just sensed another animal, we’re perfectly safe. Wild animals are quite wary of humans and won’t approach, especially as there are two of us with the cubs. If they’re poachers, they’ll back off as soon as they see us.”

“Poachers?” I exclaimed in horror. “You mean men with guns?”

“Possibly, so let’s go.”

For the first five minutes we walked briskly back toward the camp. Still obviously fearful, the cubs shadowed Hamish. Occasionally they would peer over their shoulders into the enveloping dusk.

As we put some distance between us and the riverbed, the cubs noticeably relaxed and resumed their rowdy antics, chasing each other in circles. Clearly the danger, whatever it was, had passed.

Hamish slowed his pace. As we walked back he asked me loads of questions about my life. After I’d practically told my entire life story I decided to turn the tables.

“So who were you so upset with that night at the party?” Hamish colored, but didn’t say anything. “You were shouting on the phone…sounded like a girlfriend,” I continued trying to provoke a reaction.

Hamish sighed wearily, “No, not a girlfriend. An ex-girlfriend…”

I waited for him to go on, but he didn’t. I thought about asking for more details, but I didn’t want to seem too interested especially after the whole mortifying shirt incident.

When we arrived back at the cubs’ enclosure, we topped up their water bowls. Hot and tired, they were very docile, and Hamish took some pictures of me lying next to them. So Bulgari! The girls were going to love these shots.

On the way back to the school we drove past Sam and stopped to talk. He was out on a security drive and offered to drop me back to save Hamish a drive. As I swapped cars, I thought Hamish looked disappointed. But then again it could have just been my over-excited imagination playing tricks on me.

Chapter 20

W

ithin a week I had the teaching gig pretty much down pat. The system of bribes and rewards was working well, and the kids were very compliant.

Now that I had more time on my hands, I turned my attention to a much more pressing issue—clothes. And for once I wasn’t concerned about my wardrobe, but that of the kids.

Without exception, the kids were dressed in a raggedy assortment of hand-me-downs, which were mostly hanging together by a few loose threads. When I decided to run a vigorous exercise class, two girls lost their dresses entirely. Something had to be done!

A day later I’d come up with the perfect solution. My cousin Adrian just happens to be one of the global heads of marketing at Nike—a handy cousin to have. I sent him an urgent e-mail explaining my predicament and attaching some pictures of the most tattered clothes I could find.

At best, I was expecting Adrian to send me some seconds or off-cuts, but his response to my e-mail was much better than I’d imagined. Nike was happy to sponsor the kids! This meant that they’d all get free sports clothes and shoes. The only condition was that I had to take lots of photos and some video footage that Nike could use for promotional purposes.

Two weeks later, a beat-up van arrived with the Nike gear. It was like Christmas, but better. Each of the kids got a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, running socks, and shoes.

True to my word, I captured the entire event on video and took loads of “before” and “after” photos. It took me two days to sort through the photos, but it was worth the effort. I had some amazing shots, and the video of the van arriving, the kids trying on their gear, and their first exercise class after the delivery was awesome.

After e-mailing Adrian the shots, I e-mailed the best ones, as well as the video footage, to my mailing list.

The success of the Nike delivery got me thinking: the kids really needed a proper uniform. The sports clothes were great, but they weren’t suitable to wear all day during the cooler winter months.

I racked my brain, but couldn’t think of any contacts that could help. I was about to give up when an answer to my dilemma unexpectedly presented itself in the guise of Mille Lee, a vivacious redhead from New Jersey.

I knew Mille as one of the wildlife volunteers, but while at a volunteer party I discovered that in “real life” Mille was a Broadway costume designer. Over a few drinks (well, quite a few, but who’s counting?), Mille agreed to design a school uniform.

To say Mille was excited about the project was an understatement. She turned up at the school the very next day with design sketches. Her preliminary sketches were a little too Versace—gorgeous, but way too flamboyant for school. In the end we settled on a more toned down FCUK look—a cute skirt and blouse for the girls and a classic pants and shirt set for the boys. Now all we had to do was work out how to pay for the fabric and get the uniforms made.

Thanks to a bit of detective work over the next few days, I discovered that the cost of outfitting a whole school would be less than five pairs of designer shoes! To say I felt guilty about my shopping habits back home was an understatement.

To appease my conscience, I decided to pay for the uniforms. I figured five thousand dollars wasn’t going to kill me. Plus, I could always just forgo a handbag purchase when I got home. The Hermès Picotin Lock bag in rouge Tourillion Clemence calfskin leather I’d been coveting was just going to have to wait!

Mille somehow managed to find a group of local women to do the sewing. A couple of volunteers pitched in as well. According to Mille’s calculations, we’d be able to start rolling out the new uniform in less than three months—an amazing achievement if things went to plan. To say Nelson was stoked was putting it mildly!

With work on the uniforms underway and teaching now smooth sailing, I found myself with nothing to do. For the first time in my life (I decided my time crying over Nick didn’t count) I had free time. No timesheets. No billable units. Nowhere, I had to be.

To make the most of my new found freedom I sketched out a timetable for my first proper free weekend in years. I planned to sleep-in, paint my nails, and read a book before heading to the volunteer camp for a long and leisurely lunch.

By 9.37 a.m. I’d done everything on my list except lunch.

Bored, I was on my way to the volunteer camp when I ran into Mr. Kilwha, the boys’ dorm master. After a brief chat I discovered he was on his way to the lodge. Apparently teachers were allowed to use the lodge facilities—the library and the business center—on weekends. The thought of uninterrupted Internet access was music to my ears and I tagged along.

The lodge really was beautiful. It was set on a hill and from the dining area guests had an uninterrupted view of the grasslands below. Only days before guests had witnessed a cheetah kill an antelope (apparently the highlight of any safari) while having sun-downers at the bar.

Nursing a steaming coffee, I sat down in the business center and started e-mailing. Because my e-mails only went to my close girlfriend mailing list, I was free to say whatever I liked. So of course I told the girls everything, including how I’d begun fantasizing about Hamish—I definitely wasn’t into him, he just happened to have a hot body, why I could never get back together with Nick and who I thought was seriously dysfunctional at Harvey & Rose (most of the firm got mentions).

Satisfied with my morning’s
work
I hit send. I felt pleased that I’d managed to fill my time productively and had stayed out of trouble for at least half a day!

Chapter 21

F

inally, my last day as a teacher arrived! A replacement had been found and I was off the hook. While the whole teaching gig hadn’t been too bad, I was pleased it was over.

I was even more pleased to be moving out of the dorm and into my own room, even if it didn’t have an ensuite. On a whim, I’d agreed to spend a few weeks in Hamish’s wildlife group before returning home.

“Teacher, teacher, teacher!” One of the kids in the front row was desperately trying to get my attention. It was our last dress-up quiz.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn,” I said, giving him a teacher smile (you know, the kind that says “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but don’t test my patience too much, kid.”)