Free Jackal's Dance by Beverley Harper Page A

supposed to be the crème de la crème of Etosha accommodation had a few chinks appearing. If a foraging animal upset a rubbish bin, staff made no effort to clean up the mess until told. The swimming pool wasn’t checked as often as it should have been. Little things, but when they were all added together, some guests wondered aloud why they were paying premium prices. To compensate, everyone else pulled more weight. Thea bore the brunt of it but Sean took it upon himself to monitor repairs in the workshop, Dan kept an eye on the craft and curio shop, Chester would chase up the general maintenance staff and Caitlin was always ready and willing to relieve any of them if needed.
    Billy had no direct authority over the rangers. They were employed by Nature Conservation and their duties set by that body. That didn’t stop him interfering in their day-to-day routines. All four, in addition to conducting tourists around the reserve, were expected to assist research biologists, veterinarians and park maintenance staff. The ambassadors of Etosha, they were always available, talking to guests, listening to guests, joining them for meals or at the bar afterwards and then, often after a late and boozy night, appearing bright and smiling well before sun-up for the next morning’s game drive. So Billy’s increasing interference wasnot welcomed.
    And that wasn’t all. Everyone liked Thea. But the way Billy treated his wife bordered on indifference. Thea adored him. Billy barely acknowledged her presence. Dan wondered if the man spoke to her when they were alone together. In public he behaved as if she were around only to do his bidding.
    They walked together to the workshop. It was only eight-thirty but the day was going to be a scorcher. Without a breath of wind the heat had already built up to such an extent that a damp sheen of perspiration glowed on Thea’s forehead. Born and bred in England, she had a hard time coping with extremes of temperature.
    Sean wasn’t saying much and Thea hoped he wasn’t put out by her latest call for help. She didn’t think he would be – he always seemed happy to assist. Still, knowing how hard all the rangers worked she hated having to burden him with yet another problem, but the generator was the lodge’s lifeblood. Without it, nothing worked.
    â€˜How’s the manuscript coming along?’ Everyone knew Sean was trying to write a book. He didn’t say much about it but had told Thea that it was set in a fictitious game reserve and based loosely on his experiences at Etosha. With five chapters completed, it was the hardest thing he’d ever attempted to do.
    â€˜Stalled.’
    â€˜What’s the problem?’
    â€˜I’ve created a character I don’t believe in. He’s too one-dimensional. Like a stick figure. I’m not sure how to fix it. Everything I think up seems flat.’
    â€˜Maybe you should let someone read what you’ve written. Could be you’re too close to it.’
    â€˜Maybe.’ Sean was doubtful. He fluctuated between belief that his efforts were reasonably good to being certain the whole thing was terrible.
    â€˜Philip Meyer is arriving today. He might be able to help.’
    Sean shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t dare ask. He’s a pro. Probably gets asked to comment on other people’s stuff all the time. Anyway, what if it’s no good? Or worse. What if it’s rubbish and he’s too nice to tell me? I don’t know, Thea, maybe I’m fooling myself.’
    â€˜You won’t know unless you get input from someone else.’
    â€˜I know. But who?’
    â€˜Try me. I’ll read it if you like.’
    â€˜Would you?’ The thought that somebody else could help had never occurred to him. Thea, in rare moments of relaxation, loved to read. Her opinion would be worth having, for more reasons than one. ‘On one condition, though. You must promise to be