It was worth a try, so Claire tested out the theory as she crossed the runway. Jude Slater was tall like Andrew, but whereas Andrew was heavily built, Jude had the lithely muscular physique of an athlete. Both men had dark hair, but Jude’s hair was jet black with the hint of a wave to it whereas Andrew’s was a rather muddy shade of brown and poker-straight. Jude’s eyes were a different colour, too, Claire realised as she drew closer—a warm hazel with flecks of gold in them. Andrew’s eyes were pale blue, very cold and frosty. In fact, if she had to choose one feature which she had disliked it would have been Andrew’s eyes. Even when they had been sharing their most intimate moments, his eyes had never held any real warmth.
Claire sighed. With the benefit of hindsight, she could see that she should have taken it as a warning but she had been too besotted at the time to read the signs properly. It was a mistake she wouldn’t make again. If she ever reached a point where she could consider having a relationship with a man again then she wouldn’t choose someone who looked like Andrew or Jude Slater, for that matter.
‘Is everything sorted out?’
‘Nearly.’ Claire’s tone was clipped as she stopped beside the motorbike. She didn’t look at him as she lifted the seat and took out the two-way radio transmitter. She had done her best—flagged up the differences—but it hadn’t helped as much as she had hoped it would. She still had this deep-seated urge to run away and hide, and it was painful to acknowledge how little progress she had made in the past two years.
‘Nearly? So do I take it there’s a problem?’ he persisted, obviously not satisfied with her less-than-fulsome reply.
Claire ignored him as she tuned the radio to the correct frequency. Although most of the rebel fighters had been driven out of the area, there were still pockets of resistance and keeping in touch with base was vital.
‘Hello!’ He stepped forward and bent to peer under the peak of her cap. ‘I asked you a question. Did you hear me?’
Claire immediately recoiled. ‘Do you mind,’ she snapped, twisting the dial this way and that in the hope that it would disguise the fact that her hands were trembling. She hated it when anyone invaded her personal space. It was a trick Andrew had used to intimidate her and even though there was no reason to think that Jude Slater was trying to do the same, she resented it. Bitterly.
‘I’m sorry. I just find it frustrating when people won’t answer a simple question.’
He stepped back, folding his arms across his chest as he leant against the fence post, but Claire knew that he had sensed her discomfort. Colour ran up her face as she bent over the radio. Nobody knew about her past. Not even her family or her friends knew what she had been through. She had been too devastated to tell them the truth, that Andrew had forced her to have sex with him, that he had raped her. Women like her—intelligent, independent women—were supposed to be able to look after themselves. They weren’t supposed to put themselves in a situation whereby something like that could happen. If they did then the consensus was that they were to blame for leading the man on.
It had taken Claire a long time to accept that she hadn’t been at fault and that it was Andrew who was the guilty party. However, she knew how fragile her confidence was and there was no way that she was going to risk undoing all her hard work. Maybe Dr Slater wasn’t cut from the same cloth but she wasn’t going to test out that theory. For the next three months she intended to keep her distance from him and, more important, make sure he kept his distance from her.
‘I need to contact base,’ she explained as coolly as she could. ‘The truck that was supposed to collect our supplies should have arrived by now and I need to find out what’s happened to it.’
‘It could have broken down en route.’ Jude shrugged when she looked at him. ‘If it’s the same vintage as this machine then I’d say it’s more than likely, wouldn’t you?’
‘It’s possible. But I drove along the route the truck would have taken on my way here and I didn’t see any sign of it—’ She broke off when the radio crackled. The reception was terrible and she winced when a series of ear-splitting shrieks erupted from the handset. Twisting the dial, she tried to find a better signal, but it was no clearer.
‘Here, let me have a go.’
He reached over and took the radio off her before she could object. He turned the dial the merest fraction and the next moment, Claire heard Lola’s voice flowing across the airwaves. He handed the handset back to her with a smile that immediately set her teeth on edge. She knew it was silly to get upset over something so trivial, but his actions smacked of condescension and it was the one thing guaranteed to rile her.
Andrew had displayed the same high-handed attitude towards her. He had treated her with a mixture of charm and contempt from the moment they had met only she had been too naive to realise it. The way he had taken over at every opportunity had seemed touchingly gallant and she had enjoyed having him take care of her. It had taken her a while to realise that there was nothing gallant about his desire to rule her life, and definitely nothing gallant about the way he had reacted when she had told him that she no longer wanted to see him. Sickness roiled inside her at the memory and she forced it down. She had nothing to fear because she wasn’t going to put herself in that position again.
‘Thank you,’ she said coldly, turning so that she could speak to Lola without having to look at Jude. ‘Hi, Lola, it’s me—Claire. I’m at the airfield and the truck hasn’t arrived. Have you heard anything?’
‘Not a word, hon. Give me a second and I’ll see if I can get hold of the driver.’
Claire waited while Lola tried to contact Ezra, the truck driver. The heat was stifling that day and she could feel sweat trickling between her shoulder blades. The boiler suit she was wearing wasn’t the most comfortable outfit in these conditions but all the women on the team made a point of covering themselves up whenever they left the hospital. Although the Mwurandans were lovely people on the whole, there had been a few unpleasant incidents recently, and it was safer to err on the side of caution.
‘I can’t raise him, Claire. I’ll keep trying but at the moment I can’t get a reply.’
Lola came back on the line. Claire frowned when she heard what the other woman said. ‘Maybe his radio’s down. Some of the sets are on their last legs, so that could be the problem.’
‘Could be. Anyway, you’ll be driving back along the same route, won’t you, so you should pass him on the way.’
‘I suppose so. Thanks, Lola.’ Claire switched off the radio and stowed it under the seat then turned to Jude, trying not to let him see that she was concerned about what might have happened to the truck. ‘We’d better make a move. There’s no point hanging around here. The driver will just have to bed down in the plane if it’s too late for him to drive back to town tonight.’
She straddled the scooter and started the engine then looked round when she realised that he hadn’t moved. ‘Are you coming or not?’
‘Do I have a choice?’ He sighed as he swung his leg over the seat. ‘It’s either a ride on this contraption or a night in the hold. Not much of a choice really, is it?’
‘What did you expect? A chauffeur-driven limousine?’ Claire retorted, letting out the clutch. The motorbike bucked as the gears engaged and she heard him swear as he grabbed hold of her around the waist.
‘Do you have a licence for this thing?’ he demanded, leaning forward so she could hear him above the roar of the engine.
Claire gripped the handlebars, her heart pounding as she felt the weight of his body pressing against her back. It had been a long