‘Do we have time?’
‘I’ll make time.’
Oh, gosh.
‘Then, I love surprises,’ I lie casually as we speed along the isolated road back to our villa.
Who am I? Who is this woman?
12
Cam drives a little further on and then turns off the road at a sign for a nature park. We bump along for a few miles until the track opens up on to a dusty car park and a hut with a small window and a tired-looking fella sitting up, but quite asleep, behind it.
We jump out and Cam opens the boot. He drags out a big camera and a tripod. ‘Hold this please,’ he says. ‘And this.’
Soon we are paying ten dollars entry and are essentially walking into a jungle. My stress levels are climbing. The light is fading. It will get dark soon.
‘Do you know where we are going? What if we get lost? Do you have a phone signal? A first aid kit? Who else knows we are here? Do you have your mobile tracker on? These clothes still smell like fresh kebab meat. Am I going to get my tits ripped off by a pack of rabid hyenas?’
‘For a start, hyenas live in Africa.’ Cam stops to look at me.
I instantly stop panicking at his calm, soothing tone.
‘Huh. Not much of a risk-taker, are you?’
I shake my head. ‘I struggle a little bit with change… and with anything that’s not organised with military precision.’ This is a gross understatement. ‘And… surprises.’
He jokily rolls his eyes. ‘Well, don’t worry. I have you covered. Trust me. Look, it’s just up ahead.’
He has such a reassuring manner that it puts me at ease straight away. Two minutes later we come to a clearing.
The scene takes my breath away as I sweep my gaze upwards. ‘We’ve stepped into paradise,’ I whisper. Exotic birds are swooping through the air, monkeys are swinging through trees, all manner of creatures are scampering around. ‘Have we just walked into a Disney film?’
Cam laughs quietly and sets up the tripod, fixing the camera deftly on top. ‘I produce nature documentaries by trade. You kinda hit the nail on the head back there with your silverback assumptions.’
I nod in understanding.
‘I don’t usually bring anyone here. It’s my special place.’
My heart flutters at his confession, but I try not to read anything into it.
‘Documenting wildlife, especially those close to extinction, is my absolute passion. Filming anything else seems meaningless,’ he says, twisting the giant lens and swinging the camera round. ‘I’d love to film in the UK someday. Man, you have some spectacular scenery and wildlife. But you just gotta take what work’s offered, you know? Even if you don’t enjoy it.’
‘I totally get that,’ I say. When my mother died, so did my zest for life, my ambition, my passion. Everything seemed meaningless afterwards, so I allowed myself to drift, doing crappy supply jobs for hardly any money, and even less respect, while I took time to figure out how to cope.
While Cam has his head down, peering through the camera and twiddling with buttons, he starts speaking to me in hushed tones.
‘I filmed here once. In this exact spot. In fact, it was while I was here on location that Megan and Pete first hooked up behind my back.’
Oh. This must be hard for him. He keeps his face hidden behind the camera. Just because he’s comfortable and trusting enough to confide in me and because I’m incredibly easy to talk to, doesn’t mean he has romantic feelings for me. I try not to let my hopes soar.
‘Must have been so tough to lose both your best friend and your girlfriend at the same time,’ I say quietly. ‘That’s why you don’t mind being away from home so long.’
A comfortable silence settles between us and for the next hour we simply watch the jungle come alive in all its glorious technicolour. When we pack up and trek back to the car, Cam says, ‘Thank you, Libby. That meant a lot.’
One look into his kind, sad eyes and my heart melts for him. I reach out to take his hand lightly. ‘It’s okay to still be sad.’
He clears his throat, dropping my hand. ‘We’d best hurry. Porscha will be calling soon. I’ll need to be at my desk, or she’ll get suspicious.’
