The Burning Shore

He stepped closer to her, and the clumsy movement reminded A

Coming on top of the death in action of my only son, Garrick lowered his voice and the look in his eyes was enough to soften A

Never say that again! She followed him as he retreated, thrusting her face so close to his that their noses almost touched. Don't you dare ever to say that again! Madam, Garry faltered, I am sorry, I don't understand have I given you offence? Centaine is not dead and don't you ever dare again to speak as though she is! Do you understand? You mean Michael's wife is alive? Yes, Centaine is alive. Of course, she is alive. Where is she?

Slow delight dawned in Garry's faded blue eyes.

That is what we have got to find out, A

There was, of course, no real alternative lodging for a gentleman traveller visiting the Cape of Good Hope. Its guest book read like a roll of honour: statesman and explorers, diamond magnates and big game hunters, gallant soldiers and illustrious peers of the realm, princes and admirals had all made it their temporary home.

The Courtney brothers, Garry and Sean, always had the same suite on the corner of the top floor with a view on one side over the gardens laid out by the governors of the Dutch East India Company, across the waters of Table Bay to the smoky blue mountains on the far side; on the other side the grey rock ramparts of the mountain were so close that they blotted out half the sky.

These legendary views did not distract A

Good Lord, that's Michael- He took the frame from her and stared hungrily at the photograph of NO 2 I Squadron, taken only a few months previously. It's so hard to believe- Garry broke off and gulped before going on. Could I please have a copy of this made for myself? A

Her mother. A

They are so much alike, Garry turned the photographs to catch the light. Yet the mother is prettier, but the daughter, Centaine, has more force of character. A

Now you know why she ca

I do not understand these things, A

Do you see? A

So, with the wind and water pushing her, where has she come ashore? A

We landed here, at Walvis Bay, the Bay of Whales. Good! Good!'A

You see, that is one of the fiercest deserts in the world.

A

Already she seemed to know him intimately. She had recognized that he was a dreamer and a romantic, content to live in his imagination, to live through the characters of his writings rather than in the real harsh world which frightened him so.

Now there is no more time for your talking. There are things to be done. First, we will make a list of these things, and then we will do them. Now begin. What is the first thing? Nobody had ever spoken to Garry like this, not at least since his childhood. With his military rank and his Victoria Cross, with his inherited wealth, his scholarly works of history and his reputation as a philosopher, the world treated him with the respect accorded to a sage. He knew he did not truly merit any of these considerations, so they terrified and confused Garry, and his defence was to withdraw further into this imaginary world. While you make the list, take off your waistcoat."Madam? Garry looked shcoked.

I am not madam, I am A

The first thing, Garry, in his shirtsleeves, wrote on a sheet of hotel notepaper, is to cable the military governor in Windhoek. We will need permits, this is all a closed military area. We will need his cooperation, he will be able to arrange provisions and water points. Now that Garry had been prodded into taking action, he was working quickly. A

What provisions? You will need a second list for those. Of courseGarry pulled another sheet towards him.

There! A

Yes, Mevrou, said Garry meekly, but he could not remember when last he had felt so good.

It was after midnight when Garry went out on to the small balcony of his bedroom in his dressing-gown to take a last breath of night air, and while he reviewed I the events of the day, the buoyant feeling of well-being I i remained with him. I I Between them, he and A

They had even completed the major part of outfitting the expedition. Garry had spoken on the telephone, an i instrument which he usually viewed with grave misgivings, to the owner of Stuttafords General Dealer Stores.

The stores he required would be packed in wooden cases, the contents of each clearly labelled on it, and delivered to the railway station the following afternoon. Mr Stuttaford had given Garry his personal assurance that it would all be ready in time, and had sent one of his green motor vans up to the Mount Nelson Hotel with a selection of safari clothing for both Garry and A