Anthony’s mother had left Kenya two years ago, a woman marred for ever by the death of her husband, haunted by visions of his life’s blood pumping into the thirsting soil on which he had been raised. The buffalo that had gored him, tore his body apart and tossed it contemptuously away, had been shot by his gun bearer while a wealthy Swiss client stood frozen with horror, unable even to raise his gun, sobbing and mortally afraid. But it had not prevented Herr Villespan from having the animal sent to a Nairobi taxidermist and then to Switzerland, where its head adorned a wall in his lakeside mansion and provided his dinner guests with riveting tales of sacrificial bravery. And it had not prevented Anthony Chapman from taking up his father’s profession, with a sense of adventure and a love for the bush that Camilla realised she must learn to understand.

When he had arrived at Langani on the previous evening, he had kissed her on the cheek in the same way that he had greeted her friends. At dinner there was no mention of the time they had spent together in London, and soon afterwards everyone had opted for bed, in preparation for an early start in the morning. As they made their way out on to the verandah Anthony had pressed his hand into the small of her back and whispered into her ear: ‘Tomorrow.’

Camilla had lain awake for hours, wondering what he felt about her. If anything. It was difficult to recall the time when she had scarcely noticed him, had rejected his laughing advances, and she could not fathom how her feelings had changed so suddenly and without warning. At the coast, when there had been no word from him, she had begun to wonder if she had read too much into their ardent encounter in London. But then she thought of the way he had held her and remembered the tenderness in his lovemaking, and her mind rejected the possibility that she had been a mere distraction. She wanted desperately to know for sure, and yet she was fearful of any immediate revelation of the truth. They must now be nearing the camp, and she would know the answer, perhaps all too soon.

They drove on, until a line of trees told them they were approaching the curve of the river. Anthony halted briefly to engage the four-wheel drive and then descended into the rushing water, stopping on the river bed to point out several half-submerged crocodiles of frightening proportions. Their scaly heads and glittering eyes were just visible above the water, as they waited for an unwary victim to pass their way. Camilla looked at them with revulsion and shivered as Anthony revved the engine and slid over the rocks, crawling up the steep slope of the opposite bank. He turned down a narrow trail to the left, brushing against rampant vegetation, with the screech of thorns scraping the chassis.