16
‘Solomon.’
‘Mort, it’s Christine again.’
‘Hey, babe. Did you get my message?’
‘Don’t call me that. And no, I haven’t checked my emails today.’ Chris stood on the verandah of the lodge at Mana Pools.
‘I’m going secure, OK?’ he said.
‘Whatever.’ Chris drummed her fingers on the bal cony railing as she waited for the scrambler to kick in. Two saddle-bill storks were standing in the shallows of the Zambezi, their striking red, yellow and black bills poised above the water’s surface. The female of the pair- Chris could tell the s*x from the markings beneath the bird’s eyes- shot her beak into the water and returned with a small, squirming silver fish. Her mate looked on enviously.
‘OK, that’s better,’ Solomon said. ‘Well, you should have checked your messages. Remember how I told you
