27.

As expected, the X-ray confirmed that Xander’s leg was broken. He’d fractured his tibia, to be precise. It was a closed fracture, the doctor explained to us in the waiting room. When I asked her what that meant, Amelia butted in with, ‘More serious than a hairline fracture, yet not misaligned or worse still poking through the skin, but then we knew that. At least it’s unlikely to need surgery.’

The doctor had plump fingers with very pink cuticles. She did a little thumbs-up gesture and said, ‘Impressive!’

‘Thank you, but am I correct?’ said Amelia.

‘You are.’

It was a relief to hear they hadn’t whisked Xander off to surgery. When I broke my wrist falling off my bike I had to have it pinned. Not pleasant. Neither is a plaster cast though, and that’s what he was having fitted. When he emerged he was on crutches, his lower leg a solid orange boot.

‘Do you like it? I got to choose the colour,’ he said.

‘Very … cheerful,’ I replied.

‘How long do you have it on for?’ asked Amelia

‘Six to eight weeks.’

‘That’s your trekking over and done with this summer then,’ she pointed out matter-of-factly.

One of the best things about Xander is the way he looks on the bright side. ‘At least I got to see the gorillas before it happened,’ he said.

‘Yeah, up pretty close,’ I said.

‘Too close,’ Amelia pointed out.

The three of us dropped our heads at that. It seemed inconceivable that Innocent had lost his life trying to show us the best of his immense country, but it had happened, and though I couldn’t think of a way there and then, I knew I’d have to do something, however small, to make amends.

‘Too close,’ Amelia repeated.

Xander, risking a joke to break the tension, said, ‘Really?’

‘Yes, because …’ Noticing Xander smiling at me, Amelia cottoned on and said, ‘Oh,’ instead of finishing her sentence.

It turned out that Uncle Langdon’s private plane was occupied. Caleb looked crestfallen telling us this. Possibly he’d hoped to claw back some of his man-of-the-world status by spiriting us back to Kinshasa immediately, or maybe he was just disappointed at having failed in an honest attempt to be helpful. I’d charged my phone in the hospital waiting room, and as soon as it registered a signal I tried to contact Mum and Dad to tell them what had happened. Neither picked up. They were probably in meetings. I set the ringer to loud and waited for them to call me back, but neither did that day. It didn’t matter – I’d fill them in soon enough. Whatever painkillers they’d given Xander, combined with the relief of knowing his leg had been properly seen to, gave him the energy to use his French to organise tickets on a commercial flight back to the capital. Amelia went with him to sort this. Later he told me it was a good job she had, since although it was only a domestic flight they’d needed our passport details, and apparently she’d memorised them in a moment of boredom. ‘When I asked if she was sure they were right, she didn’t even answer,’ he explained later. ‘She just started reeling off other random numbers she knew, like the serial number for her laptop, her parents’ TV licence, the ISBN numbers of her favourite books, et cetera. She’s properly weird, you know.’

‘Yeah,’ I said, and I laughed with him, feeling oddly proud at the same time.

Caleb didn’t object to the risk of taking a normal Congo Airways flight this time. He knew it wasn’t as foolhardy as provoking a silverback, I suppose. Still, he got antsy with the flight attendant supervising the boarding when she said it might not be possible to swap Xander into a seat with extra legroom to accommodate his cast.

‘Course it’s possible. What you’re saying is that you’re not prepared to do it,’ he said.

‘I’ll do my best.’

‘And if your best isn’t good enough, you’ll regret it,’ Caleb insisted.

Amelia tried to help, pointing out, ‘She hasn’t said it’s impossible,’ as the flight attendant retreated.

‘I’ll cope either way. It’s not like I can’t bend my knee,’ said Xander.

‘That’s good, but not the point. These people –’

Xander cut him off kindly, saying, ‘Listen, thanks anyway.’

Caleb had to make do with carrying all Xander’s luggage as well as his own. I would have helped, but Amelia beat me to it, and of course my cousin told her the extra weight was no bother to him. There were no free trolleys in the airport. Although we didn’t have to walk far to drop our stuff off, it was a hot day, and by the time we made the plane Caleb was bright red with effort. They put Xander in a standard seat. He was fine with it and mercifully Caleb didn’t argue. He just sat there, next to Amelia, stewing. My cousin had drawn in his spikes for now, but I couldn’t help feeling he was likely to do a different kind of damage when he eventually lashed out again.