Fennel shrugged.
'This is your country . . . not mine. Suppose we go back to the hotel? This goddamn rain is giving me a thirst.'
'You go on. I've got to settle up for all this stuff and get it loaded. Suppose we all have dinner together? There's a good restaurant next to the hotel. We can iron out anything that needs ironing out. We could get off tomorrow.'
'Okay . . . see you,' and Fennel left the garage and headed for the hotel.
Ken watched him go, frowning. Then shrugging, he moved over to where Sam Jefferson was working on the Pontiac.
They all met at the Checkmate restaurant which is part of the Rand International Hotel a little after 20.30 hrs. As was her privilege, Gaye was the last to arrive, wearing a lemon-coloured cotton dress and making every male eye in the restaurant stare at her with that hungry look males have for really beautiful women.
Fennel eyed her as she slid into her chair and felt sweat break out down his fat back. He had known many women in his life, but none to compare with her. He felt a white hot surge of desire go through him and it so shook him that he purposely dropped his serviette so he could bend, grope for it while he forced the desire out of his face.
'Well, what are we going to eat?' Garry asked.
They were all hungry and chose sea food on the broche and breaded veal with french fry.
'How's it been going?' Garry asked Ken. He was aware of Fennel's tenseness and glanced at his flushed face, then looked away.
'All under control. We have everything organized now. We could leave tomorrow if that suits you two.'
'Why not?' Garry looked at Gaye for confirmation and she nodded.
'The sooner we're off, the easier for us it will be. The rains have started. There is a chance the rain hasn't reached Drakensberg yet, but if it has, Fennel and I will have quite a trip. So, if it's all right with you, we will leave at 08.00 hrs. tomorrow morning. We drive in the Land Rover . . . it won't be too comfortable as we're pretty loaded. We have around three hundred kilometres to our camp at Mainville.' The sea food was served and when the waiter had gone away, Ken went on, 'Mainville is about four hundred kilometres from Kahlenberg's place. The chopper will be at Mainville. The airlift won't take long unless anything goes wrong. You two will stay in camp for a day while Fennel and I go on by road. Then you take off. We'll be in touch with you on the two-way radio. I've tested them . . . they're good. We'll reach Mainville just after noon with luck. Fennel and I will start around 05.00 hrs. the following morning. You will take off around 10.00 hrs. the following morning. You should arrive at Kahlenberg's place in an hour or so. You don't want to be too early. How does it sound?'
'Sounds fine,' Garry said. 'And the chopper? How about service and gas?'
'All that's taken care of. You'll have enough gas to take her in and bring her out. I have a guarantee she will be fully serviced. It's up to you to satisfy yourself she is okay, of course, but from what I've been told, she'll be there waiting for you and ready to go.'
'What's Mainville like?' Gaye asked, laying down her knife and fork.
Ken grinned. 'A horse and buggy town. I have the camp organized five miles out of town in the bush.'
They began eating the veal which they enjoyed. They discussed further details of the operation. Both Gaye and Garry were aware that Fennel had little to say except to grunt over his food and keep looking at Gaye. At the end of the meal, they had coffee while Ken talked. He was an easy and interesting talker and he amused them.
'You'll have fun driving to Mainville,' he said. 'I won't be going on the highway on the last lap and you'll see game . . . warthogs, Impala, waterbuck, vervet monkeys and so on. I'll give you the dope on them when we see them if you're interested. I was once a game warden on a swank reserve . . . taking people around in a Land Rover to spot game.'
'What made you give it up?' Gaye asked. 'I should have thought it was a lovely life.'
Ken laughed.
'You would, wouldn't you? Nothing the matter with the animals, but the clients finally got me down. You can't expect to go into the bush and just find animals waiting for you. You have to be patient. There are days, especially in this season, when you can drive for miles without seeing a thing. The clients always gripe . . . blaming me. After a couple of years I got fed up with it. There was one client who really bore down on me. Okay, he had no luck. It was the rainy season, and he wanted to photograph a buffalo. He had a thousand dollar bet with a pal back in the States that he would bring the photo back . . . no buffaloes. We drove for hours hunting for them, but no luck, so he took it out on me.' Ken grinned. 'I hauled off and busted his jaw . . . got eighteen months in jail for it so when I came out, I quit.'
Fennel who had been listening impatiently, broke in, 'Well, I don't know what you two guys are going to do, but I'm inviting Miss Desmond to come along with me and take a look at the nightspots.' He stared directly at Gaye, his face set. 'How about it?'
