Danielle Steel - Bittersweet

He laughed and told her they got a lot of supplies airlifted in from foreign countries. And some aid from the Red Cross. It was two o'clock in the morning when they arrived, and they took her straight to her tent. It was tiny and airless, and looked like ancient war surplus from an underdeveloped country, but by then she didn't care. They gave her a sleeping bag and a cot, and suggested she sleep with her shoes on, in case elephants or rhinos passed through the camp, and she had to move fast. And they warned her that there were snakes.

“Great,” she said. But this was Africa, not London, and she was so tired, she would have slept standing up.

She was woken by sounds of movement in the camp the next morning, and as she came out of the tent, still in the same clothes she wore the night before, with uncombed hair and teeth that needed brushing, she saw the field hospital up ahead. It was a huge Quonset hut that a group of Australians had built two years before. And everyone seemed to be moving around with a purpose. She felt like a sloth standing there trying to get her bearings, still half asleep.

“Nice trip?” an Englishwoman asked her crisply with a bright smile, and told her where the loo was. There was a mess tent behind the hospital, and after India brushed her teeth and washed her face and whatever else she could reach, she combed her hair and braided it, and headed there.

It was a glorious morning, and it was already hot. She had left her down jacket in the tent, and she was starving. There was an odd mixture of African food for the natives, and an unappetizing assortment of frozen food and powdered eggs for everyone else. Most people opted for a piece of fruit, and all she really needed was coffee, and then she was going to look up the list of people she had to see to get her story started.

She was finishing her second cup of coffee, with a piece of dry toast, when a group of men walked in, with the New Zealander she had met the night before, and someone said they were pilots. She was looking at the back of one of them with interest. There was something vaguely familiar about him. But he was wearing a flight jacket and a baseball cap, and she couldn't see his face. And it didn't matter anyway. She didn't know anyone here. She wondered if it was someone she knew from her old days of trekking around the world. Even that was unlikely. Most of the people she had known had either retired, moved on, or been killed. There weren't too many other options in her line of work, and most people didn't keep doing this kind of thing forever. There were too many risks attached to it, and most sane people were only too happy to trade it eventually for an office and a desk.

She was still looking at them, when the New Zealander waved to her, and started walking toward her. And as he did, the three pilots followed. One of them was short and heavyset. The second one was black. And as she stared at him and gasped, she saw that the third one was Paul. He stared at her just as she stared at him, with a mixture of horror and disbelief, and by then the group had reached the table where she sat. Ian, the New Zealander, introduced them all to her, and it was impossible not to see the expression on her face as her eyes met Paul's. Her already pale face had gone sheet white as she looked right at him.

“Do you two know each other?” Ian asked uncomfortably. He could see instantly that something was very wrong. If she could have designed the one scene in her life she didn't want to live through, it was happening at that moment.

“We've met before,” she managed to say politely, and shook everyone's hand. She remembered instantly the stories he had told her about organizing airlifts to areas like this before he married Serena, and having reduced his participation to funding after that. Apparently, he had gone back to a more active role. And when the others moved on, Paul managed to hang back He looked down at India, and was obviously as upset as she was. No one in the world could have guessed that either of them would be there. It was an accident of the worst sort, as far as India was concerned.

“I'm sorry, India,” he said sincerely. He could see how distraught she was. She had come here, to the remotest part of the world, to recover and forget him, and now here he was. It was a nightmare. “I had no idea….”

“Oh, yes, you did.” She tried to smile at him. It was the only thing to do now. “You planned this to torture me. I just know it.” He was relieved to see a smile on her face, however small.

“I wouldn't do that to you. I hope you know that.”

“You might.” She was only half kidding, but she knew their meeting was an accident. “Is this a scene out of the worst movie in your life? It is mine.”

“I know. When did you get here?” He looked worried.

“Last night.”

“We just arrived an hour ago from Cyangugu.”

“So I heard. How long will you be here?” She was praying he was going to say that day only. But no such luck.

“Two months. We're going to be taking supplies in and out for them, but I'll be staying here, and using it as a base camp.”

“Great,” she said limply, still unable to believe this was happening to them.

“What about you? How long are you here for?” he asked cautiously.

“Three or four weeks. I guess we'll have to make the best of it, won't we?” she said, sounding strained. Just looking at him was painful. It was like digging a machete through a fresh wound. He looked better than ever, though a little thinner, and a little drawn, but still painfully handsome, and more youthful than ever. The months they'd been apart didn't seem to have left their mark on him.

“I'll try to stay out of your way,” he promised. But neither of them had understood yet how closely everyone worked here. They were all together constantly all day. This was a real team, and there was nowhere for them to go to escape each other.

“Thanks.” She got up and put her coffee cup on a tray, and as she turned she saw that he was watching her with a pained expression. She wasn't mean enough to ask him how his dreams had been. Hers had been terrifying nightmares, mostly about him, since March.

“How are you?” he asked softly as she started to walk away.

“How do you think?” He nodded, and he couldn't identify it at first, but there was something different about her face. And as she left, he realized with a start, that she had a fresh scar running down one side of her face. He wanted to ask her about it but she'd already walked away. And as he went back to the others, he felt a familiar knife stab. But it wasn't Serena this time. It was India, and everything he still felt for her. He hadn't expected to still feel that way.

Chapter 25

FOR THE next two days, India and Paul did everything they could to avoid each other, but it was obvious to both of them that was impossible, and in the end more trouble than it was worth.

He sat down at the same table where she was eating dinner at the end of the second day, and looked at her in despair.

“This is hopeless, isn't it?” he said in a low voice, so no one would hear him. He would have left if he could, but they were doing important work. And he knew she was covering a big story. Neither of them could remove themselves. It was going to be a rough few weeks for her. And it was no easier for him. His heart ground to a stop every time he saw her. And she was everywhere. A dozen times a day, he found himself looking into her face. And every time he did, he felt even worse when their eyes met. There was something in her eyes, so deeply bruised and painful. Just looking at her made him want to cry, or reach out to her.

“Don't worry about it,” she said in her calm, gentle way. But there was no way he couldn't. It was easy to see what he had done to her. And her lip trembled as she looked away. She didn't want to see him, didn't want to feel the things he had awoken in her, but they had been there since the first time they met, and she realized with chagrin now, that they still were and perhaps always would be. She was beginning to believe this was a wound that would remain unhealed forever. He really was the love of her life. But even lost loves could be forgotten, she told herself. She had been given a superhuman challenge, and it had to be met. Somehow.