“Has she figured out yet that you're in love with her?” Pam asked unemotionally. She had everything she wanted from him. Respectability, limited companionship, and the convenience of not unwinding a marriage they had had for years, which it would have bothered her to give up, as much as it would him. Which was why they stayed married. It worked for both of them. But he didn't like the nature of her question, nor her tone.
“No, she hasn't. Because I'm not.” Pam had figured it out before he had, but he had no intention of admitting that to her. Secretly, he now knew she was right. But it would have been dangerous for all concerned to admit it to her. And more than anything, he owed it to Faith to protect her. “I told you, we're old friends.”
“I can't figure out if you're lying to yourself, me, or her. Probably all three.”
“That's a pretty picture you've painted,” Brad said, looking annoyed, as he took a sip of wine. Pam was quietly sipping hers and watching him.
“Don't look so uptight,” she teased. “You must be in love with her, if you're so defensive. It's no big deal, Brad. We've both been there before. What are you being so sensitive about? What's so sacred about this girl?”
“She's the sister of my best friend, who happens to be dead. And I grew up with her. She's like my kid sister. And I think it's tasteless of you to be making those kinds of allusions about her.”
“Sorry if I'm tasteless, darling. You know how I am. I call it the way I see it. And I know you. I think you have a thing for her. No big deal. I'm not sensitive about it.
Why the hell should you be?” She had a way of prying into his life without tact or sensitivity. It was why their marriage had finally not worked. One way or another, she ran roughshod over him. And it was one of the things he loved about Faith. She was gentle with him. And with everyone. Pam hit everything with a hammer, and mostly him.
“Why don't we just drop this particular subject for the rest of the trip? It'll go a lot better for both of us if we do.” They were about to spend more time alone together, and in close quarters, than they had in years. In San Francisco, they could get away from each other, and had their own lives. On this trip, it was going to be like being Siamese twins. And Brad wasn't thrilled.
They managed to stay out of each other's hair for the next two hours. Pam took a bath, Brad took a nap, and they ordered sandwiches from room service before they left for the airport. It was going to be a long night. They had a twelve-hour trip ahead of them, and were scheduled to land in Lusaka in Zambia. And from there they had to take another plane to Kalabo, across the Zambezi River from Victoria Falls. The boys had promised to meet them with a van to take them to the national park where they lived and worked.
Pam disappeared while they were waiting at Heathrow, she wanted to check out the shops. And Brad went to buy a book. He tried to call Faith, but she was out. So he left her a message, sending her his love. He and Pam met up again half an hour later at the gate, and she handed him a small gift-wrapped box.
“What's that?”
“Present for you,” she said, looking apologetic. “I'm sorry I teased you about your friend.” Some things were off limits, and she was beginning to think that girl was, which only confirmed what she thought. But she preferred to make peace with him before the trip.
“Thanks, Pam,” he said, looking touched, and opened it to find a small Japanese camera with a panoramic lens. It was perfect for their trip. “What a nice gift. Thanks.” It reminded him briefly that they had once liked each other, and been friends, but it had been a long time since then. There had been a lot of water under the bridge, and too many disappointments for either of them to rekindle much more than friendship. But for this trip, at least, it was enough.
They settled into their seats on the plane, ordered dinner, and selected movies for their individual screens. Pam took out a stack of fashion magazines she'd brought, and some papers from the office. She was working on some major deals when she left, and her father had promised to baby-sit them for her. He was the only one she really trusted in the firm. Other than that, she relied on herself. In spite of all the other attorneys, and capable people around her, she was a one-man band. Pam didn't work well on a team. And neither did Brad. They had never trusted each other either when they were working together. He handled his own clients, as she did hers, and they had argued constantly about work. It was one of the many reasons he had left. That and the fact that he had felt like he was on a leash, with Pam and her father at the other end. It had been untenable for him. And it was part of why she was so angry when he left. She had lost control of him. Which was one of the things he loved most about working on his own. He was his own man, and no longer answered to her or her father.
They said very little to each other on the trip, and they both looked exhausted when they arrived at the first airport. Neither of them had slept. And as Brad had lain staring at the movies he'd selected, all he could think about was Faith. He would have died rather than admit it to her, but Pam was right. He couldn't get her out of his mind. He worried about her feelings, and her well-being, and what Alex was doing to her. He was afraid Alex would do something really awful to her in his absence. He felt badly for her about Ellie's betrayal. All he could think of were the ten thousand problems she could possibly have while he was gone. And there was no way for her to contact him.
“You look like shit,” Pam said bluntly, as they waited for the next flight.
“I'm tired.”
“So am I. I hope the boys appreciate our coming all this way. I'm beginning to think we should have waited till they got home.” But Brad missed them too much, and they had promised to go. And he had convinced Pam it would be a great trip. But she was already worrying about the food, and even the bottled water, when they got on the next flight. And this time, out of sheer exhaustion, they both slept.
It was morning in Kalabo when they arrived. And they both woke up at exactly the same moment, as the plane touched down. There was an incredible sunrise, and a sky streaked with pink and orange as the sun hovered over the mountains, and they could see herds of animals gathered on the plains. Brad had never seen anything like it in his life. The terrain seemed to stretch out forever, and there were only a handful of roads and vehicles. And there were half-naked tribesmen standing near the tarmac, waiting for people to disembark from the plane.
“Well, here goes,” Pam said, looking nervous. “I've got a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” she said as Brad laughed. She was not a woman who liked being taken out of her own environment, or the places where she felt in control. And this was far from being one of those. But Brad didn't care where they landed, or what they had to go through to get there. It had been nine months since he'd seen his sons, and that was enough for him. He'd have gone to hell and back to see them.
They walked down the stairs to the tarmac, and into the terminal to clear customs, which consisted of a barefooted man in a shirt with epaulets and a pair of white shorts. He had a head like an African carving, and he glowered at them both, checked their passports, and then waved them on. The customs officer had the kind of face and demeanor that would have terrified Pam if she'd been alone. All she wanted was to go back to Claridge's, and then home. The only consolation was seeing Dylan and Jason, but as far as Pam was concerned, being there was a high price to pay to see her sons.
Brad gave a whoop the moment he saw them. They were waiting next to a van outside, and as Pam and Brad and a porter emerged, they hurried toward their parents, and embraced them both. They were handsome and tall, with blond hair bleached by the sun, and faces so darkly tanned they looked like natives. They were identical and looked like Brad, right down to their cleft chins, except for the blond hair that no one had ever been able to explain, except for some unknown distant relative. Brad had always said that there must have been a Swede in there somewhere. They had been towheads as babies and little boys. And Brad realized as he saw them, that they had hair the same color as Faith's. It was yet one more thing to remind him of her, even there.