Page 11 of Maximum
“Aye, the Robertsons are good people. I heard ye are too. Maximum told me you do all sorts of charity work for animals.”
“I try.”
With a lopsided smile, Liam adjusted his tie. “Ye know, if I were ye, I’d work this crowd. They have money to donate.”
“It’s tempting, but I shouldn’t. I came to celebrate Noah and River, not to raise money for my wildlife foundation.”
Liam chuckled. “Suit yerself.”
We stood for a minute, only moving a few steps forward.
“Maximum told me he wants to go to South Africa with ye.”
“Yes. He’s very eager.” I sent another quick look in Maximum’s direction and saw him laugh with Nathan as if they didn’t have a care in this world. As if he felt my eyes on him, he locked gazes with me for a moment before I was distracted by Liam.
“I don’t know much about South Africa, but I read Trevor Noah’s book,Born a Crime. I was disturbed that people like Nathan and our friend Jacob used to be a crime there.”
I blinked my eyes, trying to focus on what Liam was saying. “Excuse me?”
“They’re mixed race. That wasn’t legal durin’ apartheid, was it?”
“Who is mixed race?”
“Nathan and our friend Jacob,” Liam repeated.
“Oh, right. No, mixed race couples weren’t allowed during apartheid. Thank God those days are over.”
Once we’d congratulated the newly wedded couple, drinks were served on the lawn in front of the magnificent castle. I spoke to Liv, Charles, and little Saffron, and was surprised that Maximum only came over to give me a quick kiss on my cheek before he left to mingle with others. After all his text messages, it was unexpected that he wasn’t pushing to talk about South Africa.
I was standing alone, taking in the glorious nature surrounding the castle, with the beautiful lake and forest, when Liam came toward me. “Would you like to take a stroll with me around the grounds?”
“I’d love to.”
We brought our champagne glasses as we walked away from the party at a leisurely pace, passing Noah and River, who were having photos taken, and exchanged a warm smile with them.
“Tell me about yerself. Did ye grow up in South Africa?” Liam asked.
“No, I grew up in Tanzania. It was a coincidence really because originally, my parents are from Belgium. My father had been hired to do a series of photos of the Hadza tribe and ended up so fascinated with their way of life that he and my mother built a small hut in their area. The Hadza tribe are peaceful nomads but some of them have settled down in one place where they have livestock and grow crops. Otherwise they live much like their ancestors did thousands of years ago and they were always friendly to my parents. When I was born with my blond hair and pale skin, the tribe people called me White Child and over the years one of the families sort of adopted me into their group. I can’t have been more than a toddler when I started staying with them days at a time whenever my parents went on photo expeditions.”
“Was that safe?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? The Hadza people are warm and loving. I’ve had wonderful experiences with them.”
“But how did yer parents talk with them? Did they speak English?”
“A few spoke enough to communicate. But the way they speak among each other is a clicking language that isn’t connected to any other language. I learned some of it as I grew up around them.”
“Do you still speak it?”
“I’m afraid not. I was never fluent to begin with and we left Tanzania when I was eleven to live in South Africa.”
“What about school?”
“My parents home schooled me, but when you think about the work I do today, my best schooling happened while running around barefoot and learning how to track animals with my Hadza friends.”
“They communicate with animals?”
“Of course. Some of my first memories are tracking along with the men when they followed honey birds that would lead us to trees with bees.” I looked at Liam. “I know it’s hard for some people to believe that animals can communicate, but I grew up among people who did it all the time, so I never questioned if it was true.”
