Free Shifting Sands by Anthea Fraser

wanted? What exactly was he asking her to commit to, and for that matter, what did she want?
    He was frowning, and she added tentatively, ‘Do Wendy and George . . .?’
    â€˜I’ve not said anything, if that’s what you mean, but I was certainly planning to, when we were all together.’
    â€˜I’d . . . be grateful if you didn’t.’
    â€˜Why the hell not?’
    â€˜I’d like to wait at least till after the anniversary of my husband’s death in November.’
    There was a silence between them, while extraneous sounds continued to bombard them – the call of a bird across the water, laughter among one of the groups, a plane flying overhead. Then he said flatly, ‘Of course. Stupid of me.’
    â€˜No, no it isn’t,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s just—’
    â€˜It’s all right, Anna; I understand.’
    But did he? she thought miserably.
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ she said, and he nodded absently, gazing across the river as though his thoughts had already moved on. Was this how it would be between them, a walking on eggshells?
    She felt suddenly close to tears. ‘I think I’ll go and have a shower before dinner,’ she said, and, when his only reply was another nod, she turned and made her way quickly up the slope to the hotel.
    Perhaps it was only in her imagination that dinner was difficult. Certainly, Wendy and George appeared to notice nothing amiss. She managed to keep up light, inconsequential chat, and if Lewis seemed quiet, this wasn’t altogether unusual. Over the weeks, Wendy had referred several times to his ‘moods’. ‘Just ignore him!’ she’d advised laughingly. ‘He’ll snap out of it!’
    They were due to leave for Pretoria in the morning. ‘It’ll be the last full day of the holiday,’ Wendy remarked sadly. ‘I’ll hate leaving South Africa, but we must all at least keep in touch.’
    Anna’s smile felt strained. ‘Of course,’ she said.
    â€˜Didn’t you say you live in Westbridge? We’re in Richmond, and Lewis is near Beechford, so we’re within easy reach of each other. We must exchange email addresses.’
    â€˜You’ll have to watch her!’ George warned. ‘She’s never happy unless she’s organizing something. Give her half a chance, and she’ll be running your life for you!’
    After the meal they had coffee together in the lounge, then Anna excused herself. ‘I’d like to get most of the packing done tonight,’ she explained. ‘I’m not at my best at six in the morning!’
    So yet again she was on a see-saw, she thought wryly as she made her way upstairs. Perhaps, after all, it was as well the holiday was coming to an end.
    Lewis was sitting with George when Anna boarded the coach the next morning, and she perforce joined Wendy, unsure if she was relieved or disappointed.
    â€˜Another long drive ahead of us,’ Wendy commented. ‘It makes you realize how small the UK is, doesn’t it? Have you been keeping up your notes for your friend?’
    Anna realized guiltily that, for the last week or more, the thought of Beatrice had never entered her head. ‘I’ve been keeping a diary of sorts,’ she said evasively, ‘and the photos will help fill in the gaps.’
    Suppose Beatrice had been with her: would Lewis still have made his move?
    Pretoria, when they reached it, was awash with purple jacaranda trees laden with blossom seeming to line every street. Edda drew their attention to the magnificent government buildings, replicas of those in Cape Town, and the duplicate statue of Castor and Pollox shaking hands, symbolising peace at last between the British and the Boers.
    After lunch they went on a tour of the city, Edda enlarging on historical details she’d already given them, until Anna’s head was swimming with facts and