"I CAN'T BELIEVE you didn't think of locking the bloody door!"

"Neither did you!"

John and Henrik frantically scrabbled for their clothes and yanked them on.

"This is exactly how I didn't want her to find out! Christ, John, what were we thinking?"

"It will be okay. We just need to go talk to her." John seemed unflappable as usual.

"We? No, I'll do it."

"Maybe I should. It'll sound better coming from me."

"I doubt that very much." Henrik went to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face.

"What is that supposed to mean?" John looked angry.

"John… she trusts me."

"And she doesn't trust me?"

Henrik took a deep breath. "She knows how good you are at getting your own way. If I talk to her it will sound better, believe me."

He flung open the door and ran down the corridor, waiting impatiently for two people to pass him by. They looked down at his bare feet and seemed to find it amusing, but he could barely find the words to be polite at that moment.

Night had fallen and it wasn't long until dinner, but the thought of putting on a jacket and tie and facing Rox across a crowded dining car was horrific. She wouldn't make a scene, but he would feel her hurt and outrage, turning any food he ate to ashes. He cursed John with a passion for coming up with such a crazy plan.

Actually no. It was his plan, wasn't it? What had he been thinking?

In their suite, Rox sat on the bed, sobbing quietly. A damp tissue was twisted in her fingers.

"Roxanna." He knelt before her. "My love, I'm so sorry." For a while he held her while she wept.

When she finally looked at him, her eyes were red and wet.

"Why didn't you tell me how you felt about John? I would have understood. I…"

"Please listen to me. I love you more than life. I would never do anything to hurt you…"

"Except sleep with another man." She took a deep breath. "Henrik, you should have told me earlier. I feel a complete fool…"

"No, Rox, you're not! You don't understand…" He took her hands again, feeling out of his depth. John had been right. He would have found the right words, instead of messing everything up. "John loves you just as much as I do. He's …"

"Have you been cheating on me, Henrik? I want the truth."

He was appalled and hoped it showed on his face. "Roxanna, no! I would never..."

"So what was that? What I just saw. You and John, naked ..."

"That was... that... I don't know what that was! If I'm honest, I'm as confused as you are. I don't want to lose you, Roxanna."

They clung to each other as if trying to save each other from drowning.

"What's happening to us, Henrik? I love you but I still have feelings for John. I know you love me but you still have feelings for him too. What does he have that makes us so confused and crazy?" She pulled him into her arms and rested her head on his shoulder. "I don't know what to do."

"Rox, are you okay?" John came into the room. He sat by her side and held her hand. "I know you're hurting and I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that wretched word! Both of you, please, say something constructive!"

They were frozen in that tableaux for long moments, no one really knowing what to say.

"Tell me something. Why did you leave me?" John asked eventually.

"Why are you asking that now?"

"It's important. Please, just tell me."

"I already did. You were … too much. Too intense. I wasn't enough for you." She looked at Henrik finally understanding, her eyes wide. "He needed you, Henrik. He's always needed you."

"Yes, I do, but you must understand, we both love you," John said. "Look at me, Rox." He gently turned her head so she could look into his eyes. "Not like a sister, or a friend, you understand? The way I've always loved you, and Henrik has always loved you. And we also… well, you know how I've felt about Henrik for years. Seems the feelings are reciprocated. And yes, it's complicated. How does one tell someone they are in love with two people at once?"

"I don't know," Roxanna whispered. "I could never find the words." She massaged her temples as if trying to manipulate her thoughts into some kind of order. "Why couldn't we have talked about it before? We're all grown-ups God, what a mess!"

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way. Rox, I can't bear to see you hurting like this." John rubbed her back, trying to soothe her.

Roxanna sat up suddenly, her face showing customary determination.

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath and letting it slowly out. "Okay, let's think about this. I'm not … angry. Not now you've told me the truth." She looked at each man in turn. "This is … unconventional. I think … I need a drink."

"I think we all do," Henrik said. He had never needed to find solace in hard liquor more than he did right then.

"I'm sure, but you both need to give me some space. Henrik, share with John tonight. I need to be on my own for a time so I can think things through. I need ... to process this."

"But …"

"She's right," John said. "Absolutely."

"You would say that, wouldn't you?" He was furious that John was so calm, when he felt as if his world was falling apart.

"Stop it, Henrik. We all need to be reasonable and get ready for dinner. It will be very odd if we don't show up."

He knew she was right. "Are we sitting together?"

"And talk about our complicated love lives with everyone surrounding us? I'll go in the far dining carriage. You two can go in this one."

"I don't think…"

"Please, Henrik!" Her voice cracked. "Don't be difficult. I'm trying to make this easy for all of us."

"That isn't your responsibility. It's ours," John said.

"I know, but you've been doing a frankly piss-poor job of it so far." She brushed them aside and went to the closet, taking out Henrik's dinner suit. "There you go. Please respect my wishes and just leave me alone for tonight. If you can do that, we can have breakfast together tomorrow morning, and after that, we'll talk." Her face softened as she looked at their stricken expressions. "I can't say how I'll feel in the morning, but at the moment I'm open to possibilities. I may feel differently in a few hours and you have to respect that."

"Of course. We love you too much not to," John said.

"We wouldn't have it any other way," Henrik added with a sad smile. It wasn't as if they had any other choice anyway.

ROXANNA DRESSED CAREFULLY, putting on the bead-embellished 1920's dress she had chosen with such care, the black patent t-bar high-heeled shoes, and a dainty headpiece with jet and white glass flowers. She made her make-up dramatic, emphasising her eyes with smoky grey eyeshadow and drawing a perfect cupid's bow on her lips. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she was pleased with what she saw. The cut of the dress gave her curves she didn't usually possess, and the beaded hem swung with every movement.

It was a pity Henrik or John wouldn't be there to appreciate it.

Actually, that wasn't true. If they meant what they said, she could go back to them right then and say, "okay, let's see if we can make this threesome work."

She wasn't convinced though, and that's why she needed time to think. How had they ended up in this situation? She had been fighting with her feelings for both men for a while, and she had always known Henrik and John had a special bond. Most of the time it was easier not to think about it.

Taking such care over her outfit was a distraction technique. She had said she wasn't angry but in fact she was. The men should have been honest with her from the start, not springing the whole thing on her when they were trapped on a train in the middle of Africa.

Still, this was the situation and she had to paste a smile on her face for her fellow guests and pretend everything was hunky dory. To do that successfully, she needed a good glass of Chardonnay.

She settled herself at one of the smaller tables and looked around. Everyone was in a jovial mood, fuelled by copious quantities of alcohol.

"Excuse me? Are you dining alone tonight?"

She looked up to see a gentleman she had talked to briefly in the observation car earlier. They hadn't got as far as exchanging names.

"Um… yes."

Not waiting for an invitation, the newcomer settled himself opposite her.

"We didn't introduce ourselves earlier. I'm Eric van Kloof." The man was South African and as tall as Henrik but much more powerfully built. An ex-rugby player, Roxanna guessed.

"Roxanna Macmillan." They shook hands over the table.

"That's a pretty name for a pretty lady. Foxy Roxy." The man grinned so engagingly that Roxanna couldn't help smiling back.

"Well, not really but thank you. And what do when you're not on vacation, Mr. van Kloof?"

"Call me Eric, please. I'm in the diamond industry. Export, mainly. And you?"

She could tell he was trying to impress her. She smiled sweetly. "I'm a neurosurgeon."

The man laughed outright. "That's a good one!"

She waited.

His smile died. "For real? You don't look like one."

She didn't want to ask what he thought she did look like. "I'm usually up to my wrists in brain cells and blood."

He looked at her with new respect. "Then I think we should propose a toast. To not judging a book by its cover."

He motioned to the wine waiter, to came over to fill their glasses. They toasted, and Roxanna relaxed. Having thought the man was a bit of a pig, she decided he was just a bit outdated in his views.

They spent the meal talking, mostly about his job as she didn't want to dwell too much on hers, and about his life in Africa. Although he enjoyed talking about himself, he was interesting to listen to. John walked through the dining car at one point, probably to check up on her, and frowned when he saw her enjoying herself. Predictably, Henrik came through not long after and asked her if she was alright before going back to his table.

Eric looked puzzled. "Wasn't that guy with you this morning?"

"Oh yes, but he's spending some time with another friend of ours. I was giving them some space. It's… complicated," she said.

"Right. I don't suppose you'd join me in the observation bar for a cocktail afterwards? The stars are definitely worth seeing."

"Well …" She wasn't sure but it was only a drink after all.

"THIS IS INTOLERABLE!" Henrik threw down the bowtie he was fighting with. "I'll go without."

"No you won't." John retrieved the limp garment and reached up to tuck it into Henrik's collar again. He tied it swiftly into a neat bow and stood back to look. "There. You look very James Bond."

"And you look like his nemesis," Henrik grumbled, reluctantly admiring John's Armani black suit and navy blue silk shirt. He wore a slim black tie to finish off the ensemble, as well as highly polished black shoes with knife-like points.

John always had a sense of style that Henrik lacked. He played safe, going for classic cuts and nothing too colourful. John was a bit of a peacock at times, but he had to admit, it made him very arresting to look at.

"Ready?" John proffered his arm.

"That's hardly going to work in a train corridor, is it?" Henrik went out before him and they made their way to the dining car. When they arrived, most people had already sat down. Roxanna was not in the first carriage, and the view wasn't clear enough to see whether she was in the second.

Halfway through their meal, John got up. "Just checking on Rox." He disappeared down the train. Within a few moments, he was back.

"You're not going to believe this. She's bagged herself a handsome blond Africaaner, and he's twice as big as you."

Henrik's felt his jaw tighten. "What is she playing at?"

"Henrik, you're getting that look. I'm just saying she's fine. She's laughing, having a nice time." Subtly, he left his little finger stroke Henrik's as they toyed with their wine glasses.

"She should be doing that with us!" Henrik hissed.

"Shh, her instructions were very clear. She needs space and we must respect that. It also means we can have some fun of our own."

Henrik felt John's foot brush against his leg. He looked severely at him over his narrow-framed spectacles. "I'm not in the mood."

John refilled his wine glass. "We'll take a rain check. For now."

WHAT WAS SHE doing? She didn't know. Or rather, she did. She wanted to make Henrik and John jealous. It was childish, but the irritated looks on their faces when they saw her talking to another man were gratifying in the extreme.

As they opened the door to the observation car, the smell of Africa hit them. Warm earth, wood, a hint of musk, acacia flowers, an definable scent that she could have recognised blindfold. The night was cooling off and the sky was crystal clear, the Milky Way stunningly defined like a diamond blanket across the velvet night.

Eric pointed out the Southern Cross and other constellations. He stood very close to her as they leaned on the railings. She noted his spicy aftershave was not dissimilar to one David used to wear. Was David up there now, smiling down at her?

You've got them falling at your feet, baby!

She could hear his voice so clearly, it was almost as if he was standing next to her. A smile came to her lips as she recalled his face, wide smile and warm chocolate eyes. He loved her, and he trusted her to always do the right thing.

You've got this, he said in her head.

And she knew he was right.

"Where are we?" She asked Eric.

"Somewhere in the middle of the bush. We'll be stopping overnight. In a couple of hours, I'd imagine."

Roxanna yawned. The thought of going to bed whilst the train was still moving was very tempting, and a wave of tiredness had washed over her. The day had been so stimulating, busy and emotional, all she wanted to do was sleep.

"Eric, you'll have to excuse me. I need to go to bed."

"Want some company?"

She was about to speak when the door opened again. Henrik and John came through it. They both looked very handsome in their dinner jackets and it was hard for her not to smile at them. They nodded curtly at Eric and sat down.

"I'm guessing that's a no," Eric said with a sigh.

Quickly, Roxanna gathered her thoughts. "That's very sweet, but no. Like I said, it's complicated. Thank you for a lovely evening." She smiled, touched his arm briefly and quickly left. As she did so, more guests came into the open carriage to admire the stars. To her relief, no one tried to follow her. Right then she really needed to be alone.

Back in the suite, she noticed Henrik had removed his washbag and a few of his clothes, but not all of them. For some reason she found comfort in that.

"God, what a day," she muttered, stripping off her finery.

The cool sheets were inviting as she slipped between them. In the dark, she imagined two bodies lying next to her. John, curled up with her spooned round him, and Henrik's body curved around hers, his long arm slung over her waist, possibly stroking John's stomach. Or lower…

Then turning over, moving as one. John was always hard in the mornings, not demanding attention but very happy to receive it. How would it feel, watching him and Henrik together? How would Henrik feel, watching her and John?

Oh God, how would it feel, having both of them wanting to lavish attention on her? Feeling their lips on her skin…

Henrik would never do it. He was too private, too buttoned-up. Even in their most vigorous love-making, he never went completely wild. Not like John, who could be extremely noisy at times. Would he be that way with Henrik? How in fact would they...?

She sat up suddenly. Why was she even thinking about that? She was still upset and angry, wasn't she?

She lay back down again, letting her mind drift.

The whole thing was a bad idea.

No, not bad. Utterly disastrous. Oh God, the gossip! They would be the subject of speculation for months, even years.

It could never, ever work.

Ever, ever.

But still, the bed seemed very empty, and she was a woman with needs after all. After David's death, she felt as if she would never have the capacity to love again, but now she knew her capacity was infinite, like the universe above them She just needed the stars to show her the way.