From the passenger seat of the Ford Bruce took one last look at the
bridge.
The repaired section hung like a broken drawbridge into the water.
Beyond it on the far bank were scattered a few dead Baluba, like
celluloid dolls in the sunlight. Far downstream the gasoline tanker had
been washed by the current against the beach. It lay on its side,
half-submerged in the shallows and the white Shell insignia showed
clearly.
And the river flowed on, green and inscrutable, with the jungle pressing
close along its banks.
'Let's get away from here,' said Bruce.
Shermaine started the engine and the convoy of trucks followed them
along the track through the belt of thick river bush and into the open
forest again.
Bruce looked at his watch. The inside of the glass was dewed with
moisture and he lifted it to his ear.
'Damn thing has stopped. What's your time?'
'Twenty minutes to one.'
'Half the day wasted,' Bruce grumbled.
'Will we reach Msapa Junction before dark?'
'No, we won't. For two good reasons. Firstly, it's too far, and
secondly, we haven't enough gas.'
'What are you going to do?' Her voice was unruffled, already she had
complete faith in him. I wonder how long it will last, he mused
cynically. At first you're a god. You have not a single human weakness.
They set a standard for You, and the standard is perfection. Then the
first time you fall short of it, their whole
world blows up.
'We'll think of something,' he assured her.
'I'm sure you will,' she agreed complacently and Bruce grinned.
The big joke, of course, was that when she said it he also believed it.
Damned if being in love doesn't make you feel one hell of a man.
He changed to English so as to exclude the two gendarmes in the back
seat from the conversation.
'You are the best thing that has happened to me in thirty years.'
'Oh, Bruce.' She turned her face towards him and the expression of
trusting love in it and the intensity of his own emotion struck Bruce
like a physical blow.
I will keep this thing alive, he vowed. I must nourish it with care and
protect it from the dangers of selfishness and familiarity.
'Oh, Bruce, I do love you so terribly much. This morning when -
when I thought I had lost you, when I saw the tanker go over into the
riven' She swallowed and now her eyes were full of tears. 'it was as
though the light had gone - it was so dark, so dark and cold without
you.' Absorbed with him so that she had forgotten about the road,
Shermaine let the Ford veer and the offside wheels pumped into the rough
verge.
'Hey, watch it!' Bruce cautioned her. 'Dearly as I love you also, I have
to admit that you're a lousy driver. Let me take her.'
'Do you feel up to it?'
