CHAPTER ONE

Father Clifford stretched in his seat. The air hostess had told them they would be starting their descent into Johannesburg within the hour. His eyes were red from crying, this was a regular occurrence since Assumpta died, often Peter would wake up having cried through the whole night and his pillow would be soaked. The church had given him release after three months for bereavement. Something about a priest bursting into tears every time he took the podium was not the best for their image.

A few weeks earlier...

When Peter returned to Manchester he found everyone very supportive. A friend and fellow parishioner had just returned from safari and Peter found himself with them in a pub regaling all of their adventures. Around five of them had stayed at a glorious resort called Mara, where it s five star all the way. Peter stumbled home that night around 2 AM, home being his mother's house he had inherited just before Assumpta died. Two deaths in such close proximity to each other, it was a wonder Peter could get out of bed every morning.

Peter's mother Mary held a strong presence in this house, her picture above the mantel in a large silver frame. Peter took the frame in his hands, in the corner of the frame was wedged a worn snap shot of Assumpta standing behind the bar in her pub, laughter lighting up her face. Peter couldn't remember when the photo was taken or how he had come to possess it. The photo only appeared a few weeks after he had arrived back in Manchester where it was found amongst his packed belongings from Ireland.

He spoke quietly to both his girls together:

"This is no way to live, but you know that already. Mum I don't know what I am going to do without you, I'm not sure there is a God anymore. Heh, Assumpta, I am sure you are over the moon to finally hear a priest say that!" Peter smiled weakly, "I am going to need to go away for awhile, and I don't know how long I am going to be gone for. I can't take you with me where I am going, I need some time, I need to find out what it is I am supposed to do with myself now. I hope you understand," Peter sobbed placing both the photos back on the mantel and walking away.

Present Time

Peter felt dirty and tired after he collected his luggage from the airport conveyor belt and pulled himself on the bus that would take himself and the other 30 guests out to Mara. When he arrived Alex greeted him with a glass of sparkling wine. As the guests migrated off into couples Peter soon found himself alone. Left alone with his thoughts he sipped his wine and followed the porter to his room.

When the porter opened the room Peter found himself surrounded with lavish comforts. A large canopy bed with a crisp white duvet, the bathroom stocked with luxury soaps, and a mini bar filled with the finest English lager and wines. After his shower Peter crashed into the bed and didn't awake again until dinner time.

By the time Peter made his way to the resort restaurant the rest of his travelling party had moved on to other things. Peter was happy to have the bar to himself. He ordered a light supper and a lager. Alex approached him and took a seat at his side.

"Manchester?"

Peter nodded.

"You ok mate?"

"Just tired?"

"Oh I have seen that look in a man's eyes before, divorced right?"

"Widowed," Peter murmured.

"Widowed, I'm sorry, you need something stronger than lager, care to join me in a fine scotch?"

Peter shrugged his shoulders.

"Izak a scotch for me and our guest here!" Alex shouted at the bartender before turning back to Peter, "What you need is a safari, get out in the fresh air, get some sun, enjoy yourself a bit."

"Do you really think that would help?"

"Make a new man out of you guaranteed!"

"When does the next one leave?"

"First thing in the morning, we meet in front of the main house at ten after breakfast."

"Thanks mate."

"No worries, it's my job," winked Alex.