The Ant-Lion

Chapter 1

All Caspar’s Fault

‘I’m going to be a wildlife vet,’ announced ten-year-old Lucy one rainy Christmas Eve.

‘That’s lovely, dear,’ said Mum, who was wrapping last-minute presents. ‘Pass the scissors; they’re just by your elbow.’

‘Kerpow!’ cried Kal, Lucy’s older brother, as an enemy starfighter exploded on the screen in front of him.

‘I’ve been invited to a conference in Tanzania next year,’ said Dad, sipping his wine and looking up from his laptop.

‘Where’s that?’ asked Lucy.

‘In Africa, dear,’ said Mum.

‘Africa! So we can all go and I can learn about being a wildlife vet.’

‘Certainly not!’ said Dad.

‘Why?’

‘Far too expensive.’

‘My cousin, Craig, lives in Tanzania,’ said Mum.

‘We can stay with him, then,’ said Lucy. ‘Problem solved.’

But Dad wasn’t listening.

Ellie, the eldest of the three children, didn’t look up from her book: something about lions and wardrobes – funny place to find lions.

‘Hey, look at Caspar!’ cried Kal, who’d been momentarily distracted from Star Wars.

The family stared in astonishment. Lucy’s cat was halfway up the Christmas tree, clambering over branches, ducking under lights and wriggling round decorations, obviously determined – like some Everest mountaineer – to make it to the summit.

‘What’s he doing?’ whispered Lucy.

With a final effort, Caspar reached the top and stood swaying alongside the star. Then, he gave a sort of hiccup – and threw up.

The tree lights popped and went out. Lucy screamed. Caspar fell out of the tree and fled from the room, closely followed by Ellie a hand to her mouth. Dad spilt his drink and uttered some words he was always telling Kal off for using, as well as others Kal didn’t realise he knew.

Kal sauntered over to the tree, grunted and returned to the cockpit on the sofa to repel another starfighter. ‘Gotcha!’

Mum put on washing up gloves, dragged the tree outside, mopped the floor, cleaned the presents, sprayed the room with air freshener, wiped down Dad’s sweater and topped-up his drink.

Ellie reappeared looking pale.

‘Poor Caspar,’ said Lucy.

‘What about poor me?’ cried Ellie.

‘Damned cat,’ muttered Dad.

‘He probably couldn’t help it,’ said Mum.

‘Caspar doesn’t like heights,’ said Lucy.

‘It was the stuffing,’ said Kal. ‘Caspar’s nicked the turkey stuffing. You could see great lumps of it in all that crud he brought up – and you could tell by the smell.’

Ellie rushed out of the room again.

‘Kal, that wasn’t necessary,’ said Mum.

‘It’s true. Go and look. There won’t be nearly enough for the turkey now, unless you can scrape some—’

‘Kal!’

‘Only trying to help.’

‘What are we going to do without a tree?’ cried Lucy.

‘It won’t do us any harm to have Christmas without a tree for once,’ said Mum, ‘but if necessary, I’m sure we could still get one – probably half-price by now.’

Ellie reappeared, her face flushed. ‘Look at us!’ she cried. ‘I mean, just look at us! Look at Dad!’

Dad, who’d dozed off after all the excitement, sat up with a start. ‘Eh, what? Blast!’ he added, as he spilt his drink again.

Ellie waved her arms. ‘Look at Mum! Look at Dad! Look at all of us! We’re so…so parochial, so… plebeian, so bourgeois! I mean, honestly!’

Lucy stared. Imagine knowing words like that – and what they meant.

‘What are you talking about?’ said Mum.

‘Mum, get a life,’ groaned Ellie, rolling her eyes.

‘I don’t know what’s got into you,’ said Mum.

‘Dad’s wine?’ suggested Kal.

‘Mum, we could all die tomorrow, having never lived!’ cried Ellie. ‘And all because of some stupid cat!’

‘Caspar’s not stupid!’ shouted Lucy.

‘Happy Christmas,’ sighed Dad.

‘Ellie,’ said Mum, ‘I fail to see the connection between Caspar’s… Caspar’s misfortune and… and…’

‘Mum, for goodness sake,’ said Ellie. ‘Can’t you see? We need to get real. We need to… to make a statement… to do something, before it’s too late.’

Mum shook her head in bewilderment. ‘I don’t mind going out and trying to find another tree.’

‘Mu-u-um.’

‘We could emigrate,’ suggested Kal.

‘There you are,’ cried Ellie. ‘At last someone in the family’s talking sense.’

‘Thanks,’ said Kal, obviously surprised.

‘Well, why not?’ said Ellie.

‘Why not what?’ said Dad.

‘E-m-i-g-r-a-t-e.’

‘Whatever for?’ said Mum.

‘Well, er…’ said Dad.

‘That’s settled, then,’ cried Ellie in triumph.

‘Ellie,’ said Mum, ‘have you been drinking?’

Ellie ignored Mum’s question. ‘Where shall we go?’ She grabbed the atlas from the bookshelf and began leafing through the pages. ‘Brazil, Thailand, India…’

Caspar, who’d crept back in, settled on Lucy’s lap and yawned.

‘Tanzania,’ whispered Lucy. She gave a slight smile and stroked Caspar. I jolly well am going to be a wildlife vet.

Four weeks later, Mum came home with their tickets.

Chapter 2

Rat Man

The family had just arrived in Africa and Lucy was about to become a wildlife vet. Well, perhaps not quite – but still…

‘We’re here. We’re actually here in Tanzania,’ she whispered, stroking the little dog sitting on her lap. ‘I can’t wait to get to Simba.’

Fupi, Craig’s terrier, who’d immediately attached herself to Lucy, wagged her tail and licked Lucy’s ear.

Simba: the wildlife ranch managed by Mum’s cousin, Craig, had previously been just a name, a dot on a map of Africa. Lucy could hardly believe she would be there later today.

Craig had met the family at the airport where the temperature was a hundred degrees hotter than when they’d left rainy London. Now they were on the terrace outside a hotel in the town of Arusha, sipping drinks in the shade of a tree full of chattering yellow birds building nests that looked like grass tennis balls. Lucy fumbled in her rucksack for her new bird book and noticed Craig smiling.

‘What?’

‘They’re masked weavers, Lucy. Here.’ He showed her the picture in the book.

‘Weavers, because they weave nests?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Brilliant! My first African bird. I’m going to make a list of all the different ones I see.’

‘Big deal,’ muttered Kal, who was shovelling down a second breakfast.

‘I jolly well am; so there!’

Kal shrugged. ‘Whatever.’

Dad had gone into the hotel to register for his conference: a conference on rocks. How boring was that! – even if you were a geologist? Ellie was reading a book and twiddling a strand of hair, and Mum was rabbiting on to Craig about how exciting it was coming to East Africa for the first time. Lucy rolled her eyes.

‘It’s just so brilliant here, Fupi.’ Lucy gave a contented sigh and looked around. The sunlit pavements were packed with people jostling for space. Some were begging. Others sat on the pavement trying to sell bananas, beadwork and stuff. Groups of women, with babies strapped on their backs and baskets on their heads, blocked the pavements as they gossiped with each other.

Vehicles with revving engines and smoking exhausts filled the road. Cyclists zigzagged between them. Dogs – and even goats – wandered wherever they chose. Handcarts, carrying fruit, clothes and bits of cars, were being pulled by sweaty men trying to squeeze through the traffic. One cart even carried a moaning cow, its legs tied together with rope.

Kal caught Lucy’s eye and shook his head. ‘This is so random.’

A foghorn blared.

Lucy and Kal spun round to see a silver-grey vehicle forcing its way through the traffic. When it reached the hotel, the driver – an important-looking man in a suit – parked in a no-waiting area and went inside.

Lucy nudged Kal. ‘That man looked just like a toad.’

Kal sniggered. ‘Cool vehicle, though. First time I’ve seen a V8 supercharged Vogue SE Range Rover.’

‘Looks like a car to—’ She grabbed his arm. ‘Kal, those two men!’

‘What men?’

‘There, on the other side of the street.’

‘What about them?’

‘They look really dodgy.’

One of the men was thickset and had some sort of red blanket over his shoulder. The other, who was taller, glanced around, crossed the busy street and sauntered past the Range Rover peering in the windows. He wore a black T-shirt with the word “Death” written beneath a picture of a rat dripping blood from its teeth.

‘Cool T-shirt,’ said Kal. ‘Wish I had one like that.’

Rat-Man beckoned the other man who came and joined him.

A woodpecker hammered in Lucy’s chest; she’d never seen a crime committed. But here were two men about to— ‘Kal, those men.’

‘What about them?’

‘They’re going to… to steal that car!’

‘What car?’

‘That… that… what you said.’

Kal turned in his seat. ‘The Range Rover?’

‘I’m sure they are. We’ve got to say something.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like… like…’

Rat-Man walked slowly round the Range Rover then leaned against the driver’s door and began picking his teeth. Both men glanced towards the hotel entrance; then, before Lucy could think, Rat-Man opened the door and slipped into the driver’s seat.

‘Hey!’ Lucy tried to catch Craig’s attention.

‘Lucy, I’m talking to Craig,’ said Mum. ‘Don’t interrupt!’

The man started the engine.

‘But there’s two—!’

‘Two what?’

The important-looking man came hurrying out of the hotel. Lucy made frantic signals and pointed at the Range Rover, but the man merely glared, opened the passenger’s door, threw in his briefcase and climbed into the seat beside Rat-Man.

Lucy’s voice trailed off. ‘Nothing.’

‘Really, Lucy!’ said Mum. ‘You must learn not to interrupt like that.’

The thickset man jumped into the back, and the vehicle shot out in front of a bus.

The bus driver honked and had to slam on his brakes.

The Range Rover sped off with Rat-Man shaking his fist out of the window.

Lucy was left gaping after them. Surely, men in smart suits – even if they did look like toads – shouldn’t let themselves be driven off in expensive vehicles by such dodgy-looking characters.

Chapter 3

The Briefcase

‘Who’s that?’ asked Mum, indicating a tall man in dark glasses who’d come onto the hotel terrace and seemed to be looking in their direction.

Craig turned in his seat and his face lit up. ‘He’s a policeman.’ He waved to the man to come and join them.

‘Perhaps he’s come about the car,’ said Lucy.

‘Car? What car?’

‘I just thought he might sort of… like…’ Lucy buried her face in Fupi’s neck to hide her confusion. She was rescued by the arrival of the policeman at their table.

‘Hey, man, good to see you,’ said Craig. ‘Grab a seat.’ He pulled out a chair and signalled to a waiter.

‘So what brings you to Arusha?’ the policeman asked.

‘I’ve been collecting these good people from the airport.’

Mum scrambled to her feet. ‘I’m Sarah Bartlett, Craig’s cousin,’ she said, holding out her hand and giving a twittery sort of breathless laugh. ‘He’s invited us all to stay on Simba Ranch. Isn’t that lovely? This is Ellie who’s twelve—’

‘I’m nearly thirteen.’

‘—and her sister Lucy. And this is Alan, who’s eleven, but we call him Kal, after Reuben Kalima the famous runner from your country.’ She came up for air.

‘Is that so?’ said the policeman, shaking Mum’s hand, a slight smile on his face.

Lucy gritted her teeth. This was so embarrassing!

‘Yes, Kal’s a very good runner. He’s got the right build, you see. Rather like yours, I suppose.’ Another gulp. ‘I’m sorry; I didn’t catch your name.’

‘My name is Reuben Kalima. Welcome to Tanzania.’

‘Oh!’ Mum sat down suddenly. ‘I thought Craig said you were a policeman.’

‘I am a policeman.’

Kal’s mouth dropped open. ‘Are you Reuben Kalima who won the Olympic steeplechase?’

Reuben removed his dark glasses.

‘You are.’

‘Don’t stare,’ hissed Ellie.

Kal snapped his mouth shut but his eyes remained wide open.

‘I wish I could join you on Simba,’ said Reuben, sitting down next to Mum. ‘It’s a great place.’

‘Does simba mean lion-king?’ asked Lucy.

‘No, thicko, simba means lion,’ said Ellie.

‘We took the children to see this wonderful musical,’ explained Mum.

Reuben smiled politely.

‘Are there any lions on the ranch, Craig?’ asked Lucy.

‘Plenty, but that’s not how it got its name. The house is built near a hill which the local people think looks like a resting lion. They call it, Mlima ya Simba.’

‘The Hill of the Lion,’ murmured Ellie.

‘Unasema kiswahili?’ cried Craig. ‘You speak Swahili?’

Ellie blushed. ‘I, er… I’m trying to learn,’ she said, holding up her book: “Swahili in Six Weeks.”

Fat chance, thought Lucy.

‘Hey, man, that’s great!’

‘Ellie’s very good at languages,’ said Mum.

‘Mu-u-um!’

‘But you are.’

‘It’s because she eats lots of fish,’ said Lucy. ‘But it doesn’t work for me.’

Craig and Reuben laughed.

‘Do the lions come near the house?’ asked Kal.

‘Depends what you mean,’ said Craig. ‘We haven’t actually had them inside, but I once found one sleeping on the veranda. He got quite a fright when I tripped over him in the dark. So did I!’

‘Oh dear. I do hope it’s safe.’ Mum took a hasty sip of her drink.

Reuben turned to Craig. ‘Lucky I saw you as I was passing. I wanted to ask if that trouble you told me about has been sorted yet.’

Craig shook his head. ‘I wish I could find out who’s behind it.’

‘Trouble?’ said Mum. ‘What sort of trouble?’

‘Oh, some local nonsense.’ Craig waved a dismissive hand. ‘Nothing you need worry about.’

‘You’ll let me know, though, Craig, if you need any help,’ said Reuben.

‘Sure.’

Reuben finished his drink and rose to his feet. ‘Thanks for the drink, Craig. I’m afraid I have to leave.’ He smiled round the group. ‘Enjoy your stay on Simba.’

Kal scrabbled in his bag. ‘Do you think I could have your autograph?’

Reuben smiled.

‘I’m afraid that’s all I’ve got.’ Kal passed over his boarding pass from the plane.

Reuben took a pen from his shirt pocket and wrote: “From one Kal to another. Welcome to Tanzania, Reuben Kalima.” He then shook hands with everyone and left.

Kal gazed at his boarding pass in disbelief. ‘That is epic!’

Dad came hurrying out of the hotel. ‘I seem to have lost my briefcase.’

‘Oh, no!’ cried Mum.

‘It’s not here,’ said Lucy, peering under the table.

‘But, David, I thought you had it with you,’ said Mum.

‘I did. I had it when I was at the reception desk registering for the conference.’

‘Was there anything valuable in it?’ asked Craig.

‘Dad, our passports!’ cried Ellie.

‘It’s all right, I’ve got those,’ said Mum.

‘Geology papers,’ said Dad. ‘Then there was my talk for the conference, but I can always print another copy. Also those maps you sent me, Craig, showing the possible mineral sites on the ranch.’

‘The maps aren’t valuable,’ said Craig. ‘I can always get more.’

‘I know, but I’d pencilled some notes on them. It would be tiresome having to repeat the work.’

‘Dad, you know you’re always forgetting where you put things,’ said Ellie.

‘Not important things. This is most annoying.’

‘You mustn’t worry,’ said Mum. ‘I’m sure the briefcase will turn up.’

‘I suppose so.’ Dad frowned. ‘Perhaps I put it down when that man distracted me.’

‘What man?’ said Lucy.

‘A man who came up and started asking me about Simba Ranch.’

‘Someone you knew?’ said Mum.

‘No. It was strange; he seemed to know me, and he knew you, Craig.’

‘What did he look like?’

‘An African, quite thick-set and wearing a suit.’

‘Did he look like a toad?’ asked Lucy.

‘A toad!’

‘Yes. Did he have sticky-out eyes and a mouth like a letter-box?’

‘What are you—?’

‘David! How you doin’, buddy?’ A man with baggy shorts and sunburned knees clapped Dad on the back.

‘Vernon, good to see you,’ cried Dad, getting to his feet. ‘I was hoping you’d be coming to the conference. There are a couple of points I’d like to clarify with you about your hypothesis on…’ He turned to the family. ‘Excuse me, I have to…’

‘Bye, Dad,’ murmured Ellie. ‘Nice knowing you.’

‘These geologists and their rocks,’ said Mum, shaking her head. ‘It’s all they think about once they get together.’

Craig smiled. ‘We hope, though, that David can put his knowledge to good use when you and he come to Simba after the conference.’

‘Are there really diamonds on the ranch?’ asked Lucy. ‘Ellie wants a diamond necklace.’

‘Go well with that T-shirt,’ said Kal.

‘Just shut up, you two!’

Craig laughed. ‘I’m afraid you may be disappointed, Ellie, but we think there may be something of value in the—’

‘Like what?’ cried Lucy.

‘That’s for your dad to find out.’

‘What’ll happen if he doesn’t find diamonds or whatever?’

‘We keep cattle as well,’ said Craig, ‘so we might struggle on as a cattle ranch. If not, we’d have to close down. We couldn’t pay the staff, couldn’t maintain the roads, poachers would come and kill the animals, the Maasai people who share the ranch with us might have to move away – that sort of thing.’

‘That sounds awful,’ said Lucy.

‘Yes, Lucy, it does.’ He got to his feet. ‘But let’s not spoil your holiday. Come on, time to go.’

Mum began fussing. ‘Now you will be careful, children. Will you be all right on your own while your father and I stay for the conference?’

‘We’ll be fine,’ said Kal.

‘Have you remembered your toothbrushes?’

‘Mu-u-um!’

‘Oh well. Now, do exactly as Craig tells you.’ She hugged each of them in turn. ‘And don’t forget to put on plenty of sun cream; the sun can be…’

They were out of earshot.