Shifting Sands Read Online Free PDF

to remember reading about it.’
    â€˜They’re always having breakthrough new treatments!’ Wendy said wryly.
    Lewis and George returning with their drinks put an end to the conversation, but it left Anna regarding Lewis in a slightly different light.
    It was now more often than not Lewis who sat with Anna on the coach and who remained at her side while sightseeing, helping her up steep steps and guiding her over rough terrain. On the odd occasions when Wendy replaced him, Anna surprised in herself a fleeting disappointment, which she instantly suppressed. Nonetheless, after months of grieving, his obvious interest was balm to her bruised heart. He was, after all, an attractive man, and she privately admitted that, were she unattached, she might well reciprocate – before realizing with a start that she was unattached, and hastily dismissing the thought.
    Today, we drove along the famous Garden Route, and Edda pointed out indigenous trees, among them the prehistoric cycat, which was around at the time of the dinosaurs. They look like stunted palms, with wide, barky trunks. Edda says they’re sometimes called bread trees, because flour can be made from them.
    Beatrice would be interested in that; she was an inveterate gardener. Anna paused and stared into space. As usual when the time came to write her diary, she was too tired to concentrate and wanted only to slide into bed. But she’d promised Beatrice, and in any case, what she wrote would be a vivid reminder that would last her for life.
    More immediately, though, it was now eleven thirty. They were leaving at seven for the long drive to Port Elizabeth, and her case must be outside her door by six thirty. She really should get some sleep, despite the postcards waiting to be written. She’d do them tomorrow, she promised herself.
    They flew from Port Elizabeth to Durban, bidding farewell at the airport to Ali, their Cape Muslim driver, and his Greyhound bus. The driver who met them at Durban was a Zulu by the name of Nelson. He proved more taciturn than his predecessor and, as they later found, less willing to stop on demand when they came upon a group of animals. Like the others, Anna missed Ali and his unfailingly cheerful smile.
    Edda, however, was still with them, deftly filling them in on South African history and politics as they went, interspersed with tales of black magic and the ‘immortal’ Rain Queen, matriarch of the Nabado tribe.
    Whether or not thanks to the latter, the rain finally caught up with them in Durban, spoiling their visit to the Botanical Gardens and the afternoon trip to the Valley of A Thousand Hills, which was shrouded in mist. The tour was cut short, and they thankfully returned to the warmth of the hotel, where, at last, Anna was able to bring her diary up to date and write her postcards.
    Nor was the following day any better, and Durban’s famous landmarks were viewed through a curtain of relentless rain. There was a general feeling of disappointment and fear that the bad weather might follow them when they left the next day.
    That evening, as Anna transferred items from her daytime bag to a smaller one, her mobile fell on the bed, and, thinking to check its battery level, she switched it on.
    Immediately, its red light started flashing, and, to her surprise, she discovered a batch of texts from her family, a reminder that she’d been so caught up in the holiday and her new friends that she’d spared them little thought for the last few days.
    She sat down and read the messages one after the other – from Sophie, from Tamsin, from Jonathan, and separate ones from the boys – of the ‘Dear Granny, I hope you are well’ variety. Anna felt a surge of love for them all, and, although it meant being late for pre-dinner drinks, she briefly replied to each of them.
    But, as in Cape Town, sleep later that evening proved elusive. Since receiving their texts, her family had remained very