“Why?”
“He was a dick.” She relaxed, sinking into the seat. “I have nothing more to say about him, other than he’s left me twenty-nine voicemail messages and sent me fifty-three texts. You can probably add another dozen to both of those by the time we land.”
“That’s stalker territory.”
“He doesn’t like not being in control.”
I laughed loudly this time. There was no point trying to control Wren. It would never happen. I learned early on that she danced to the beat of her own band.
“He’ll get bored eventually.”
“He’ll meet someone else,” she said. “On paper, he’s the perfect man. Good looking, rich, successful, happy to be the breadwinner. Charming.”
“How did you end up going out with him?”
She shrugged. “Maybe I thought that it was time I tried something normal, something age-appropriate. I’m thirty-four.”
“Me too.”
I remembered what it was like to kiss her, the first time, when she’d looked at me like she was looking at me right now.
Then I remembered what it was like later.
How much it hurt.
It hurt so very fucking much.
Wren
Ilost Callum in Harare.
The city was biggerthan I had imagined and far more westernised than I’d thought. There were shades of what I expected: the heat, the dust, the noise, the thick atmosphere that rang with the echoes of drums and voices, but I knew it wouldn’t be until we were out on the plains that I’d start to understand what Callum had spoken of.
If we found him.
He’d been met by two women he’d worked with three years ago, who had seemingly kidnapped him and taken him to some town a couple of hours drive away. Jaime had apparently known about it, so everything was cool with the production team as long as Callum was back for the morning when we set off for a four-hour drive to the first place where we would be filming and Callum and I would be working with the single vet there.
It had been twelve years since we had operated together and I had no idea how we’d mesh, but the camera crew would be in from the start. I had the feeling they were thinking Callum would lead, but we knew each other better than that, if things hadn’t changed.
I sat on my balcony, watching the city below, consuming water like it was free champagne. I’d deleted all of the messages Matt had sent without reading them, deleted his voicemail, blocked his number and called my mum. He had, as predicted, been in touch with them several times, totally beside himself that someone like me would end things with someone like him. My mother had eventually become fed up of his pity party and told him that she didn’t want to hear from him anymore and that he needed to move on. She was waiting for him to call round. She was probably right – he would.
Now I was here, on the continent that would be my home for the next six weeks, I felt excited. The last part of the baggage I’d been carrying had been lost and I felt freer than I’d done for months.
A knock sounded at my door, pulling me to my feet. I opened it to find Callum standing there wearing khaki shorts and a vest that made him look twice the size he had when we were at college.
“Thought I’d say goodnight.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d be back before morning.”
He grinned and entered, heading out to the balcony. “I worked at the sanctuary where the women are for a couple of months. They’re not interested in me.”
“Oh.” I figured that wasn’t an easy relationship, not here.
He nodded. “They still have a few of the animals I helped out with so I checked on those. I’m not doing this job to fuck my way across Africa, Wren.”
“I know.”
I did. I’d always known that about him.
