fearful, tremulous, but not yet certain in which direction to run. Her
agitation was so apparent that he thrust aside his briefcase and stood
up.
She saw him instantly, and her face lit with an expression of such
unutterable joy, that he was halted in his intention of going towards
her, while she in contrast wheeled and started to run towards him.
She collided with a portly, sweating tourist, nearly flooring him and
shaking loose a rain of carved native curios and anonymous packets which
clattered to the floor around her like Ape fruit.
He snarled angrily, then his expression changed as he looked at her.
Sorry! She stooped swiftly, picked up a packet, thrust it into his
arms, hit him with her smile, and left him beaming bemusedly after her.
However, now she was more restrained, her precipitous rush calmed to
that long-legged thrusting hip-swinging walk of hers, and the smile was
a little uncertain as she pushed vainly at the loose streamers of golden
hair, trying to tuck them up into the twisted rope on top of her head.
I thought I'd missed you. She stopped a little in front of him.
Is something wrong? he asked quickly, still alarmed by her behaviour.
Oh no! she assured him hurriedly. Not any more/ and suddenly she was
awkward and coltish again. I thought/ her voice hushed, it was just
that I thought I'd missed you., And her eyes slid away from him. You
didn't say goodbye.- I thought it was better that way. And now her eyes
flew back to his face, sparking with green fire.
Why? she demanded, and he had no answer to give her.
I didn't want to -How could he say it to her, without making the kind of
statement that would embarrass them both?
Above them, the public address system squawked into life.
South African Airways announces the departure of their Airbus flight 235
to Johannesburg. Will passengers please board at Gate Number Two. She
had run out of time. I'm Sam - Fly Me! Please! she thought, and felt
the urge to giggle, but instead she said: Nicholas, tomorrow you'll be
in London - in midwinter. It's a sobering thought/he agreed, and for
the first time smiled; his smile closed like a fist around her heart and
her legs felt suddenly weak.
Tomorrow or at least the day after, I'll be riding the long sea at Cape
St Francis/ she said. They had spoken of that, on those enchanted
nights. He had told her how he had first ridden the surf at Waikiki
Beach long ago before the sport had become a craze, and it had been part
of their shared experience, part of their love of the sea, drawing them
closer together.
I hope the surf's up for you/ he said. Cape St Francis was three
hundred and fifty miles north of Cape Town, simply another beach and
headland in a shoreline that stretched in unbroken splendour for six
thousand miles, and yet it was unique in all the world. The young and
the young-at-heart came in almost religious pilgrimage to ride the long
sea at Cape St Francis. They came from Hawaii and California, from
Tahiti and Queensland, for there was no other wave quite like it.
At the departure gate, the shuffling queue was shortening, and Nick
stooped to pick up his briefcase, but she reached out and laid her hand
on his biceps, and he froze.
