Chapter Two

Chapter Two

After that the journey was uneventful for the most part. Four hours on a train goes quite quickly and then when we arrived at Beledweyne it was the switchover from rail to road, along with our luggage too. We then went on a three hour coach journey which didn’t have any awe-inspiring views at all – unless you count looking at the back of a balding man’s head for the trip as an interesting sight – because the windows were covered by several ancient mouldering curtains which smelt like old socks.
After Pip had listened patiently to me ranting about the snobby photographer she kept muttering about Febreze and Oust as the smell of the ragged curtains wafted over to us. I was going to point out that I was the one sat next to the window and therefore was closer to the smelly curtains than she was but I decided against it. She would win the argument hands down as she always does but her complaining did make me grin and her indignant attitude towards the ‘serious lapse in hygiene’ made me laugh, even though we did get a few odd looks from some of the passengers. I drew breath to ask Pip what exotic dish she was going to start preparing when she got to Hobyo and I wrinkled my nose. Thinking again, maybe some Oust wouldn’t have hurt.
I looked out of the coach window and saw flat land, sandy plains and the outlines of the tracks made by other vehicles. It was bare but somehow beautiful; I would have to remember to take some pictures for myself of the surrounding land. The sky was a light, airy blue, just crying out to be photographed.
The ‘high and mighty’ photographer, David, was sat at the very back of the coach, I noticed, and was studying a portfolio, frowning as he did so. The sinister man from the train was not on the coach. I wondered what was in the portfolio that was making David look so thoughtful when he, quite obviously, was a berk who thought too highly of himself and always considered himself before everyone else.
I wanted to know who that local man was though, and why this stuck up photographer had met him on the train. It intrigued me but I wasn’t sure why. Maybe I was reading too much into it. The man with shark eyes might have just wanted a photograph to be taken of his family, although I couldn’t picture him surrounded by a caring family to be honest. Never mind, it was none of my business anyway.
I thought again about the laughing way in which he spoke to me, taking the mickey of me. I wished he was more polite and agreeable rather than making fun of me. It would be nice to talk to someone on my wavelength that I didn’t have to explain camera stuff to that is just basic to people in the same job as me. But if he was going to be such a toffee nose then he could go hang, it’s not as if I cared, not really.

“Heidi! Wake up, girl, we’re here. Can you help me with these bags? They’re so heavy I must have been superwoman to be able to carry them through the city before. Heidi? Come on, wake up, we’ve arrived.”
I woke up to Pip’s rambling words. I hadn’t even realised I was tired; maybe it was because of the new time zone, although that usually didn’t faze me. I looked groggily around the still curtained coach and saw that almost everybody else had left. Pulling myself out of the moth-eaten coach seat, I grabbed my shoulder bag and shuffled out into the aisle. Before I left the coach, I turned around to check I hadn’t left anything, and saw the photographer still sat in his seat, asleep. I looked back at Pip who was already out of the coach and on the sandy ground outside, shouting my name.
“One second!” I called, and turned back inside the coach.
I walked up to the man and tapped his shoulder.
“Erm, hello? We’ve stopped. Hello?” No response.
I sighed; he was obviously a heavy sleeper.
“Hey! Wake up! Rise and shine!” I yelled. That did the trick. He leapt up, scattering the papers from his portfolio all over the floor of the coach. They looked somewhat important, covered with paragraphs of writing, quotes, pictures and–
Wait a second.
“Hey, why is there a photo of me on there?” I asked, a shiver running down my spine. At least, I thought it was me, it was dark but it looked like me. I reached down for the paper with the photo on it but he snatched it up.
“What? There is no photo of you,” David snapped, and bent down to gather all the other papers up too, pushing them into his canvas bag.
I bent down too, seizing his arm. David stopped and looked at me with, was it fear, in his eyes? I hesitated. Why would he be afraid of me reading the papers? Was it so terribly secret? I mean, come on! What secrets could he have, really?
“David, why–“
I was cut off by the coach driver, a tanned local man, as he stepped onto the coach; the tension was broken.
“Hey, come on, you get off now,” he ordered in his stilted English, looking curiously at us as we shuffled out from behind the seats, David clutching the remaining sheets of paper and his bag, and me stood beside him, perplexed.
David pushed past me, knocking my shoulder and strode down the aisle towards the open air, then practically sprinted across the sandy ground towards the hotel our group had been arranged to stay in. I ambled, completely bewildered, over to Pip. She was stood in the middle of all our bags looking at me disbelievingly.
“What did you do to him?” She thumbed over her shoulder towards the hotel where David had just run to.
“I don’t know. I really don’t,” I murmured. I didn’t know what to think! I was now more than curious to know what was in that portfolio; I need to see what’s in there.
“Explain when we get to the hotel, ok?” She urged, bringing me back to the real world.
“Yes, sure,” I replied vaguely.
“What’s up? Hey, let’s get to our hotel room and then we can talk about it. Whatever it is we can sort it out with a cuppa and that big bar of chocolate I bought at the airport, yes?”
I smiled at her, so glad I had brought her with me on this trip. Pip was perfect for cheering me up; and she had chocolate! I was onto a winning combination here.

Pip came back through the door.
“Where’ve you been?” I asked her.
“Oh nowhere, just to the lobby,” she replied casually. “So,” she announced, “you’re not sure but you’re almost certain it was you? We don’t want to go up to David and confront him with false accusations and then make him think we’re mad!” Pip declared. She laughed and pulled a daft face at me. “A bit too late for that, I think!”
I snorted with amusement. “Yeah, right, for you possibly!”
Pip and I were sat on the sofa in our hotel room discussing the mysterious papers in David’s portfolio.
“Maybe we should come up with a plan to find his portfolio and read those papers. Did you see any more photos on the papers?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Pip, I was there for like thirty seconds and half the time he was covering them with his hands! I didn’t notice at all; there were a few other pictures but I couldn’t tell if they were people. They could have been just his own photographs; he is a photographer after all.” I replied.
“Still had fifteen seconds to look then?” Pip countered, grinning cheekily at me.
“Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. No seriously now, going back to your plan. How would we do it?”
Pip frowned, thinking hard.
“Well… You won’t particularly like it. It involves David–“
“Obviously!” I retorted.
Pip continued, regardless of my interruption, “–Dinner, to be away from the hotel, are you getting the pic–“
“Hold on a minute! You were suggesting for me to go to dinner with David? Er, hello? One minute he’s Mr Sarky-Pants and the next he’s Mr Grumps! I’m not going to dinner with someone who can’t decide who he is; the conversation would be so awkward! And besides, you’d never get him to agree.”
There was a long pause.
“Pip!” I wailed. “You haven’t!”
Pip smiled guiltily. “All you have to do is chat for an hour or so at the restaurant downstairs, then go back to his hotel room and nab his papers! Simple!”
“Why can’t you do that?” I whined, “You know, go to dinner and stuff?”
She looked at me sceptically. “Don’t be silly. Why would I have invited him to dinner? You two are budding photographers so it’s the perfect excuse for you to have asked him; you’ll have loads to talk about too. You always moan about me not knowing technical terms and I never know what you’re talking about. Here’s a great chance to have a nice conversation about photography, cameras and all the other stuff I’m hopeless at.”
“Oh, thanks, I’m so glad you thought of me in your scheme!” I replied sarcastically.
“Come on, it’s not that bad, it’s just one evening and just think of the end result. And think, when you bring them back from his room, we can read them and find out what they say about you,” She pleaded.
I thought about it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. If David had been willing to agree to have dinner with me then he couldn’t hate my guts that much; unless he wanted to gloat, of course. No! Think positively, give him a chance. Then I thought of a problem.
“But what if he didn’t invite me up to his room? What would I do then? I’d have to invite myself up which would be, besides rude, appallingly embarrassing!” I reddened.
This earned a disbelieving look from Pip.
“Heidi. Just use your head. It doesn’t take the brain of a scientist to figure out a way. Make a spur of the moment decision! Be spontaneous!”
I gave in. “Right, fine, I’ll do it but only because you’ve pushed me into this.”
Pip smiled and clapped her hands. “Great! The meal is tonight, by the way, so start getting ready!”
She walked up to our cases and rooted through, looking for a suitable outfit. I sat on the sofa and watched her.
“Hey, Pip?”
“Mm?” She murmured distractedly.
“What did David say when you asked him?” I asked, trying to sound offhand as I did so.
She glanced up, grinning like the Cheshire Cat out of Alice in Wonderland. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that.”
I flushed. “Not like that, I just wanted to know because he acted like he didn’t like me when I met him and everything.”
Pip laughed. “Yeah, sure. Well he looked doubtful at first because he thought I was joking but then he definitely warmed to the idea. He says he wants to know about your work and what you do. In fact, he told me to tell you that he’s very interested to hear about your professional career with the National Geographic. What was all that about?”
“Never mind,” I grumbled. Forget what I just said about giving him a second chance. He was just taking me out so he could flash his cash, laugh at me and boast. Yes, that was his plan.
I was determined to be as pig headed as he was going to be; even more so, actually.