A Change in Altitude by Anita Shreve Read Free Book Online

which he’d already learned to make for her. She thanked him for that effort and success, though she wondered at his motives. Margaret loved the familiar smoky taste of the first drink but was wary of the second. For just a moment, her vision blurred when she swung her head in Patrick’s direction. But then a double image coalesced, and all was well.
    “We leave Nairobi at nine in the morning,” Willem said. “That’s Saturday, the twenty-second. We’ll spend the night at a lodge at the base of the mountain. I’ve made all the arrangements. Got us quite a deep discount, too.”
    Thanks were expected and received.
    “I’m driving,” Diana said. “If we use the Rover, and I’m assuming we are, I’m driving.”
    “Yes,” Willem said, adding that the Rover would fit all six of them with the gear tied down on top. “The next morning we’ll make our way to Park Gate to pick up the porters. One per couple, then a guide and a cook. Five in all.” He paused. “Oh, and a word to the wise? Don’t show up Sunday morning with a hangover. Won’t do you any good on the climb. Staying hydrated is key, and starting off with a fuzzy mouth will make the first day a nightmare.”
    “Arthur,” Diana said, and left it at that.
    “On Sunday, we walk from Park Gate to Met Station. Helps with the acclimatization. Who’s provisioning the food?”
    “I will,” Patrick said. “I assume there’s a decent list somewhere?”
    “I have recommendations,” Willem said, lighting a cigarette. “And I’ll tell you this about food. We don’t want to skimp here. Last time I did the climb, we subsisted on dried food. Bloody awful. We’d be eating the crud and look over at the next party, and they’d be having hot soup and coffee.”
    “I’ll keep that in mind,” Patrick replied. Margaret noted that he hadn’t broken his diagonal to volunteer.
    “Staying at Met Station will be tough. The altitude plays with your sleep. I highly recommend Nytol. But we’ll get to the meds in a moment. Who’s doing meds?”
    “I will,” Margaret said. It seemed a chore she could handle.
    Willem handed out paper and pens for everyone to take notes with. Margaret wrote on hers:
Meds.
She knew Patrick would help her.
    “You’ll each be responsible for your own gear, though the porters will carry it. Sleeping bag. Foam mat. Parkas. Rain gear. Hats and sunglasses are a must. The sun is brutally strong when it comes out, even if you don’t feel the heat. Snow blindness is sometimes a real problem. Wear wool or synthetic socks. Never cotton. Speaking of which, always walk with two pairs of socks. If one gets wet, you can just peel it off. Keep your essential stuff in your backpack, since you might get separated from your porter for several hours.”
    “How’s that?” Margaret asked.
    Willem turned to her and smiled. He smiled a lot, Margaret realized, a great big Dutch burgher smile with lots of teeth. “They might go ahead and set up camp,” he suggested, “when the trail is fairly obvious to us, for example.”
    She nodded. She hoped she wasn’t exaggerating the earnestness of the nod.
    “The Teleki view is astonishing,” Willem said. “After that, we make a brief descent and then a very tiring climb to Mackinder’s Camp, where we’ll spend the night. Saturday. Sunday. Monday. Monday night. We want to get there quickly and have an early night. We’re supposed to wake up at two a.m. the next day.”
    “Ouch,” Patrick said.
    Margaret couldn’t shut her eyes, even for a moment. Sharp focus was required to keep the room from spinning. She wished she could ask for a thick piece of cake to absorb some of the alcohol, but they’d already had the dessert, a sherry trifle. It was the third or fourth they’d had at Diana’s table. Perhaps Margaret could find some of the leftovers in the kitchen, though probably not. James almost certainly had cleaned up by now. He might even be asleep in the concrete hut at the back of the garage.