Downtime - Marc Platt [28]
He looked bemused. And even more so, when they reached the enclosure and there was no sign of the old man.
‘All right, all right,’ Charles kept saying. ‘I believe you.
Something’s certainly disturbed Mahamaya.’ The Yeti had dropped back to all fours, but was pacing up and down the length of the barrier, swinging her head from side to side in agitation.
Sarah was trying to stay calm, but she had to tell him or burst with frustration. ‘I know who it was, Charlie. Oh, don’t ask how, I just do.’
He tried to be patient. ‘All right, tell me.’
She clasped and unclasped her hands. ‘It was Edward Travers. The Edward Travers. The professor.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, darling.’
‘But it was. The one who discovered...’
He completed her sentence: ‘...who first discovered the Yeti in Tibet in 1936. How could it possibly be?’
Sarah shook her head. ‘I interviewed him once for Metropolitan. I know it was him, Charlie. Please believe me!’
‘Sarah, he was an old friend of mine. He’s dead. He’s been dead for nearly five years.’
She gave a huge moan of despair. ‘I know.’
He put his arm round her shoulder. ‘Come on. You had a shock and made a mistake.’
‘I’ve had worse than that. And I wasn’t wrong. It was so like him.’ She bit her tongue.
‘There you are then,’ he said and there was a note of triumph in his voice.
A tuft of fur fluttered on the inner barrier.
‘She’s moulting,’ Sarah sniffed. But the fur looked more like cobweb.
Charles offered her his huge coloured handkerchief. ‘Come on, it’s not like you to get so upset. When we’re finished here, I’ll take us out to lunch.’
‘Thanks,’ she said flatly. ‘Sorry.’
But she did notice the nervous, even expectant, glances he had cast in every single direction while she was talking.
As they walked back towards the group, they heard a shout and a general disturbance among the crowd. There was another barrage of clicking cameras.
‘What did we miss?’ Charles asked.
‘The cub,’ smirked the nearest reporter. ‘It just bit her.’
‘Now do you feel better?’ Charles muttered, giving Sarah’s arm a squeeze. They peered over the heads, trying to get a better view.
One of the Suits was winding a handkerchief around the Prime Minister’s hand. The nervous young keeper was hurrying his squirming charge away.
‘It’s all right. It’s all right,’ piped up one of the Foreign Minister’s aides. ‘Just a little nip.’
There was embarrassed silence as the entire British contingent stared at the Chinese party. Finally the Ambassador said loudly, ‘More likely to offend Japan, I believe. Thank you for a most gratifying occasion.’
‘No chance of rabies, I suppose?’ whispered Sarah.
‘Not a hope,’ said Charles.
Sarah raised an eyebrow. ‘Actually, I was worrying about the cub.’ She waved to Robin the cameraman and then flounced away. ‘Coming for a cuppa before you buy me lunch? Then you can tell me what else you brought back from Nepal.’
4
Home to Roost
e never got in touch, Victoria thought.
H The front page of Mrs Cywynski’s Telegraph was dominated by a picture of the Prime Minister, a pained look on her face, as she nearly dropped a small bundle of fur. The headline said PM DISCOVERS THAT DIPLOMACY BITES
BACK. The report listed various comments from the dignitaries present and ended with a caustic quote from Charles Bryce, the British explorer who first captured a Yeti and brought it into captivity. ‘No wonder the poor creatures keep clear of civilization. At home the worst thing they have to worry about is the occasional snow leopard.’
She had been back from hospital for two weeks, back at work for one. The hole in the pavement was still there and the house had taken on a musty smell. At the office, there were stacks of filing to do and letters to type. She felt as if her boss had deliberately done nothing while she had been away. She also still had no recollection of what had happened in Tibet.
She remembered waking up in the hospital, but when she had fallen asleep she could not recall. The entire journey was a dream, littered with more dreams of journeys