Claire's Prayer by Yvonne Cloete Page B

fishing.” She paused, and Seth looked back. “Can’t wait!” she added, with a smile.
    Within half an hour, Seth was finished: the pump now hummed evenly. Wiping his hands on a piece of rag he refused tea, so they drove off. At the next dam Seth parked under the cover of shady acacia trees, where they enjoyed the cool juice and biscuits Joseph had prepared. Seth then removed a couple of fishing rods, a wooden bait box and two folding chairs from the boot. Claire settled into one of the chairs with her feet tucked under her, loving the silence and serenity of the bush. Seth baited a hook with a few wriggling worms and caught Claire’s eye.
    “I only ever used flies for the trout,” Claire said, wrinkling her nose. Seth shrugged, and cast the line out. Handing the rod to Claire, he then baited and cast his own. The sun warmed Claire’s body like a massage, and the wind hummed gently through the trees. They sat in comfortable silence: for this moment, in perfect harmony with nature. Claire marvelled at the natural beauty of the game that came and went, drinking, frolicking, and disappearing into the bush again. Seth settled back in his seat, quietly content, only now and again pointing out a certain animal to her. Claire wondered why she and Seth could not always be this relaxed in each other’s company. The absence of the tension was a big relief – long may it last , she thought, a sense of peace permeating her heart. She wished these moments of companionship could last forever.
    Suddenly her line jerked, and Claire nearly dropped the fishing rod in shock.
    “Claire, strike!” Seth encouraged her, excitedly. “Pull your rod back, hard. Looks like you’ve got a big bream there!” Seth placed his rod on the ground as he continued to instruct her. Like this , a part of Claire appreciated, he was masterful and in control. He was impressive. “Okay, now start reeling in. Stand up; it may be easier for you.”
    Claire leapt to her feet, knocking over her chair. The rod was bent almost in half and her arm ached already, but if it was the last thing she did she would land this fish. The bream struggled and fought to get loose, but eventually hung, worn out, as Seth removed it from her hook. It really was big, and Claire beamed with childlike pride.
    “Well done!” Seth said. “A few more like this one and Joseph will be able to make us his delicious fishcakes tonight.”
    Placing the fish in the keep net, Seth handed the rod back to Claire, along with the bait box. Smiling at her, he challenged, “You saw me bait the hook; now see if you can do it yourself.”
    Accepting his challenge grudgingly, Claire opened the bait box and looked in mild disgust at the wriggling mass of earthworms. Grabbing one between her fingers, she immediately dropped it as it wriggled, slimy and snakelike. Hearing Seth’s muffled chuckle, she determinedly gripped another one and, silently apologising to it, threaded it onto her hook. With a satisfied glower at Seth, she stood and cast the line out.
    Grinning, Seth handed her a damp cloth to wipe her fingers. “Knew you could do it.”
    The pair had been sitting quietly in the shade for nearly twenty minutes when a couple of giraffe strode confidently out of the treeline, and made their way to the water’s edge. Claire froze, eyes wide, and turned her head to Seth. Seth pointed at them subtly, and whispered, “The tallest of all mammals…”
    Claire took in the peculiar bodies, long necks and uncoordinated gait of the animals in front of her. The giraffe were covered with a brown patchwork on their coats of tawny orange. She thought it wonderful that they seemed so clearly, so decoratively marked, but were so well camouflaged in the bush. The giraffe spread their front legs wide apart and dropped their long necks down to the water. Their position looked so funny that Claire giggled aloud. Glancing around, perturbed, the giraffe loped slowly and ungainly back into the bush. Once again,