Sarah sent away her film of the elephants’ burial rite, and was encouraged and warmed by the praise she received from the Briggses who were not normally effusive. This time she knew that her pictures were exceptional and that she was right to be proud of them. When she came in from work late one evening, weary and looking forward to a shower and an early night, Allie was waiting for her. There had been a radio call from Hannah, she said. Sarah should contact Langani. Had there been another raid? Sarah wondered with alarm. Another slaughter? Hannah’s voice came over the hiss of static. There was a staccato delivery to her words, but she was emphatic when Sarah questioned her. There was nothing to worry about. The call appeared to be purely social. An invitation for the weekend.

‘I can’t do it,’ Sarah said. ‘It’s only a short time until I come down for Christmas. I can’t take any time off now. I’m sorry, Han. Are you sure everything’s all right?’

‘No worries,’ Hannah replied. ‘See you soon. Over and out.’

Sarah was working on her notes when the Land Rover drove up on the following afternoon. She was engrossed in her records, and she did not even look up to see who it was until Allie hailed her.

‘Sarah! Visitor for you. It’s Lars.’

She dropped her file on the desk and ran out, faintly alarmed. She threw her arms around him, genuinely glad to see him. Then she stood back and studied him with some concern. He was unshaven, his clothes were rumpled and sweaty, and he looked tired and strained.

‘Lars! It’s good to see you.’ She paused, waiting for him to say something, but he did not respond. ‘Is everything all right? Piet? Hannah? The farm?’

‘As far as I know,’ he said. His tone was cryptic and he did not meet her eyes. ‘I haven’t been there since yesterday.’

He did not volunteer any more information, and she wondered what he was holding back. She saw his glance flicker towards Allie who was working on some maps that she had spread out on the table in the mess tent. Something was definitely wrong, and he obviously did not wish to discuss it in Allie’s hearing. Sarah thought of Hannah’s radio call and hoped the two were not connected.

‘Come in out of the sun,’ Sarah said. ‘It’s scorching.’

She led him under the shade of the verandah and pulled out two camp chairs. ‘Sit down. Let me get you something – you must be parched. Allie, can I get Lars a beer? Is that what you’d like, Lars? We actually have cold ones. The fridge was acting up for a couple of days, but our fundi, Amos, has fixed it. I don’t know how we’d survive without him.’