Jackal's Dance (50 page)

‘Tired.'

Sean and Philip each offered an arm. Thea took both.

‘Better?'

‘A bit. Thanks.'

They fell silent after that. Sean was worried. The day was taking its toll on Thea. If Troy managed to spike the alcohol and his plan worked, they'd need to get away quickly. He wondered how she would cope, even with his and Philip's help.

Chester was having a hard time with his conscience. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that this was all his fault. How could he have been so stupid? That Portuguese pair at the lodge, irrespective of their claim to be in the hotel business, had asked some damned unusual questions. Could it have been a UNITA reconnoitre? Why didn't he become suspicious? He watched Kalila walking in front with James. Would she be targeted again tonight? Everything depended on that student Troy.

The African ranger understood why Kalila avoided him. Of everyone, Chester came closest to knowing how last night would have affected her. It wasn't only the savage violation, though God knows, that in itself must have been terrible. It was her background. Any daughter of a chief would be brought up believing that she was in a class above
most others. It was an attitude undoubtedly drummed into Kalila from birth. She would have matured, demanding and receiving due deference to her high-born status. Coming out of her ivory tower to spend a night with Chester was about as low as she could ever go. It surprised him that she had. If he had known who she was he'd have been too intimidated to make a pass. Perhaps Kalila, like many intelligent and modern Africans, was starting to question old traditions? Her decision to sleep with him may have been a form of rebellion. Under normal circumstances, she'd have gone home and her night with him would hopefully have remained a pleasant memory.

Maybe not. She hadn't exactly said no when he asked to see more of her. Perhaps Kalila really could have turned her back on entrenched custom. But now it was impossible. Now, she was experiencing one of two things. Outrage that someone of her rank could have been so defiled. Or shame. Either way, respect, something she'd always taken for granted and which had now been abused, would be foremost in her mind. She'd been willing to push her status aside to spend a night with Chester. After something as traumatic as last night, he doubted that she'd ever ignore it again. She would draw on it for strength, and become reliant on the system to stay strong. She was lost to him. Thanks to these bastards, the one girl he might have loved was beyond his reach, hiding inside a culture that would keep them apart forever. Chester blamed himself.

‘Troy?' Angela's voice was soft, timid almost.
They'd been walking side by side in silence. His mind had been on the logistics of pouring Rompun into booze bottles without being seen. Angela, however, aware he knew she'd been raped, felt the floodgates of confession straining to open. She'd kept it hidden for so long, too ashamed to tell anyone. Now she absolutely had to let it out. ‘Can I talk to you?'

He looked down and nodded. ‘Sure.'

‘I don't know where to start.'

Troy had guessed what she wanted to talk about. ‘Take your time.'

‘No-one knows. Not even my parents.' The prospect of rape was so uppermost in her mind that she didn't think to explain what it was she wanted to tell him.

What bastard would do something like that to her?

‘I was fourteen.'

Younger than Jutta.

‘He was old, a neighbour, about my dad's age.' Angela took a steadying breath. ‘Do you promise not to tell anyone?'

‘You have my word, Angie.' Troy bent his head and listened, while Angela poured out the circumstances surrounding her rape. Hearing her soft voice retelling the pain and fear of her experience stirred something masculine and protective within him. Watching that beautiful face struggling against tears, seeing the nervous pluck of fingers on her shirt, Troy discovered a brand-new emotion running through him. He would keep this girl safe if it cost him his life.

As Angela spoke of the thing she was terrified would happen again, Troy could sense her drawing strength from finally bringing it out into the open. He had never thought very deeply about rape until last night. Newspaper and television reports of it inevitably brought on a fleeting feeling of pity for the victim but it all seemed so far removed from his world that he couldn't really identify with what it might do to those who actually experience it. Now he knew. Last night's savagery was something those three were unlikely to recover from. In a way, the one-time betrayal by a trusted neighbour made matters worse. James, Kalila and Jutta would have to deal with what happened to them. Angela not only had to do that, she blamed herself for it.

‘What is it about me?' she asked.

Her eyes were on his and in them he saw genuine confusion. Troy felt a surge of fury against the sadistic swine who had stolen this girl's innocence with no regard for the emotional damage he had caused. ‘It's not your fault, Angie. It's his.'

She gave a small shake of her head. ‘No. All boys want the same thing.'

‘That's not true, Angie. We should discuss it once we're out of this mess. For now, let me just say that boys will always try. Ninety-nine per cent, more probably, accept no as an answer.'

‘Please, talk to me some more now. Please.'

Panic was suddenly back in her voice. Incredible as it seemed, Angela actually needed this conversation. Troy suspected it might be a way of preparing herself for what probably lay ahead. If so,
it was amazingly brave of her. He didn't know how else to help. No-one could realistically prepare for the kind of thing that took place last night. All Troy could do was talk and hope she found comfort, or strength, or whatever it was she was seeking.

‘Have you ever had a boyfriend, Angie?'

‘No.'

‘Then you must have broken a few hearts.'

‘Relationships never get that far.'

Troy remembered his words on the bus. And her reaction. Completely understandable now he knew the truth. How many others had blundered into her no-go zone without being aware of it? Angela hadn't been flirting with him as he'd first thought. Her vivacious behaviour was either a cover-up for nerves or a desperate attempt to be liked so he wouldn't want to hurt her. ‘You mean most boys behave like I did on the bus?'

‘Always.'

‘Have you ever stopped to think that it might simply be because you're attractive?'

‘It's more than that. There's a look you all get.'

‘And it scares you?'

She nodded, head down.

Why wouldn't it?
He wondered if total honesty would help. ‘You're a very beautiful girl, Angie. A man would have to be under ten or over ninety not to notice. The moment I saw you I was attracted to you. I thought you were flirting with me. So my natural instinct was to come on to you. I'm sorry about that. I won't lie, though. I would love to have a relationship with you. That was my
rather stupid way of saying so. But Angie, only if you want it too. A relationship isn't simply sex. It's about having fun, enjoying each other's company, being together, talking, having someone on your side, someone who understands you. Sex is a part of that, a way two people can show each other how much they care. It's a very beautiful experience, a complete sharing of bodies and minds.'

She was listening, so he went on. ‘I've never forced a girl to have sex. What happened to you was a crime. The man should be in prison. He took what he had no right to take. It wasn't your fault, Angie.' He hesitated. Why not relate it to what happened last night? Troy was undoubtedly out of his depth but he could not see how Angela would recover from her past while still believing she'd brought it on herself. ‘Do you think the three last night were to blame?'

‘No.' Her voice was small. ‘Of course not.'

‘So why was it different in your case?'

‘I don't know. Just is.'

‘Because you knew him?'

‘Yes.'

‘Were you aware that in over eighty per cent of rape cases, the victim knows their attacker?' Troy's photographic memory brought the statistic to him effortlessly – he had no idea where it came from.

‘Really?' Her eyes scanned his face anxiously. ‘Is that true?'

‘Yes.'

‘Why hurt someone you know?'

‘I can't answer that. I have no idea what makes
a man force himself on a woman. It's the action of a coward. As I said, most of us take no to mean no. I could never hurt you.'

‘But it does hurt. It's horrible. Kalila isn't a virgin but she was screaming.'

Troy understood that in Angela's mind, sex was all about violation. Last night would only have confirmed it. Maybe, just maybe, Angela was actually seeking assurance that she was wrong. ‘Kalila cried out because they hurt her. But, Angie, don't forget, she went willingly enough with Chester. Would she have done that if it meant pain? Making love is very different from what happened last night, or what happened to you. Don't take my word for it. Ask others.'

She shook her head, biting her lip.

‘Your doctor then. Do you have one you trust?'

‘Yes.'

‘Ask him.'

‘Her.'

‘Okay, ask her.'

‘I couldn't.'

‘Do you trust me, Angela?'

‘I think so.'

‘You can. I promise you that.' Troy glanced around. Except for the three victims of rape, everyone else seemed to be talking or listening. It was as if, like Angela, they drew comfort from normal conversation.

‘Thanks,' Angela said softly. ‘It helped to finally tell someone.'

‘Why didn't you report it?'

‘I couldn't. I felt so dirty.'

‘It's not you who should be ashamed, Angie. It's that bully who hurt you.'

Her eyes lingered on his. ‘I've never really talked to boys. I'm always too busy worrying about what they would do next.'

‘Under the current circumstances, I don't think you need worry about communication skills.' Troy was aware that his attempt at humour might not be appreciated. He turned serious again. ‘I like you, Angie. The real you, not the someone you hide behind. I think we could have a lot of fun together.' Troy hesitated. This was neither the time nor place. Then he decided, to hell with it. There was no way of knowing what tomorrow would bring. They might all be dead. Why not? If it brought even fleeting happiness it was worth it. ‘When this is over, when we're home again, will you be my girl?'

‘Your –' The question had taken her completely by surprise.

‘Girl, Angie. That means we go out together.'

‘I . . . don't know.'

‘That's all it means. You have my word. I won't even kiss you unless you want me to.' Troy didn't have to cross his fingers, because he meant it. At that precise moment, Troy Trevaskis, lady-killer extraordinaire, lover par excellence, overloaded with testosterone and dedicated to the pursuit of pleasure, fell in love for the first time in his life. That it was the most inappropriate time to do so did occur to him, but the fact remained that he had and there was nothing he could do about it.

Angela was uncertain, wanting to say yes but afraid. ‘I . . .'

She'd retreat unless he was careful. ‘Dinner then. Your parents can come too if you like.'

Angela looked up at his serious expression. ‘You mean that?'

‘I do actually.'

She could see he did. ‘Okay.'

Troy's eyes softened. ‘Is that okay for dinner with your parents, or okay for dinner just you and me, or okay you'll be my girl?'

She took a deep breath. ‘Your girl.'

He put out a hand and Angela took it. Despite the punishing weight on his back, the situation they were in, the heat, the difficulty of introducing Rompun into the alcohol, despite the very real danger that tomorrow some or all of them could be severely traumatised or worse, Troy had a brief feeling of walking on air.

Ace had been observing Angela and Troy. He'd considered telling everyone to shut up but then realised he could gauge each and every mood by voices and facial expressions. These two seemed close and concerned for each other. No threat of mutiny there. He saw them hold hands and sneered. The girl was about as appealing as a rag doll with her skinny body and straw-coloured hair. But the boy was a different matter. Ace decided to make him first on his menu tonight.

Felicity and Dan were having a quiet conversation and trying to include Gayle in it. The actress's lack of participation was mainly due to acute
discomfort. Despite Dan's doctoring of her shoes, they still caused blisters. Gayle's heels were raw and bleeding. She was limping quite badly but her running shoes were designed to impress, not provide proper support. Dan eventually suggested she remove them. ‘The ground is sandy. It shouldn't be too difficult.'

‘At the next stop,' Gayle agreed. She never went barefoot. The soles of her feet would be tender but anything was better than this pain. Bugger the thorns.

‘I'll carry them for you,' Dan offered. ‘You'll need something on your feet once we're out of the park. I'll try to fashion some kind of protection for your heels.'

Gayle shook her head. ‘You've got enough to carry. I'll manage.'

Dan's pack contained mainly tinned food. The knowledge gnawed tantalisingly at his already rumbling stomach. Today, they'd been offered nothing to eat. ‘How are you holding up?' he asked Felicity.

‘Bloody starving,' she barked tartly back. ‘I'm sure it's good for the figure but I'm damned if that's any consolation. It's not as if they don't have food. They took enough from the lodge to feed a bloody army.'

‘Perhaps that's their intention. There's not much to eat in Angola.'

‘I hope the bastards all starve to death.' Felicity was not generally known for charitable reactions to people she didn't like. This UNITA mob made The Turd look like an angel.