Will and Bonkers sat on the terrace sipping their root beer, as they often did after a hard day in the fields. Not that they had worked much for the last few days, since Robin and Marian were staying at the Bartlett’s bungalow, at the invitation of Will’s parents, James and Beatrice.
And they had also been glued to the television, following the rapid developments taking place ‘back home’ for which, it seemed, they had been largely responsible.
It was the diamonds that had finally proved too much. As soon as it became known within the Government in Harare and among the President’s closest allies and friends, that he had apparently hijacked their last remaining vestiges of wealth, all hell was let loose. It was not, in the end, the weight of popular protest among the people of the country that brought about the downfall of the Government, but the President’s own perceived greed.
Although, for once, he was innocent, the circumstantial evidence that he had double-crossed them all was overwhelming. It had been his idea to bring together all the diamonds that he and his cronies had collected over the years. It had been his idea to send them to South Africa for safekeeping, and it had been he who had made all the arrangements. Now, it seemed from witnesses, he had also arranged for the diamonds to be hijacked so that he could have them all for himself. The pilot and the courier both said so, and so did the men in the control tower. The people who the President had hired to do the job had actually told them, so there could be no doubt about it. And one of the staff in his outer office had also said, under questioning, that he had heard talk in the office of such a plot being hatched. So there it was.
The President had fled the country, and most of his Ministers had followed suit. Those who hadn’t or couldn’t, resigned, and the Attorney General had taken it upon himself to swear in, as President, a retired Commander-in-Chief of the Army who had been a life-long opponent of the regime and who, in the days of Ian Smith before UDI, had attended the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst. The opposition parties were asked to form an interim Government, pending democratically run and internationally supervised elections, which were promised within six months.
What had been popular protest quickly turned into nationwide rejoicing, with crowds singing and dancing in the streets, mostly joined by the Army and Police as well. Some of them were even brave enough to wave Union Jacks. Even one or two of the aid agencies had decided to start their programmes again, and the United Nations met to discuss whether or not to lift sanctions.
Will leant forward for his glass. The old rocking chair creaked, as it had always done, even at the old farm. One day, he’d fix it, but somehow it was as much a part of their new life as the chair had been a part of their old one. For as long as Will could remember, that chair had always been on the veranda, alongside the old wicker table, and it had always made that noise.
“One day, I’ll fix this chair,” he said to Bonkers.
Bonkers grinned.
“I doubt it,” he said. “Your father never did!”
Robin and Marian joined them, and old Mrs Bartlett brought out another jug of her homemade root beer and two more glasses.
“We’ve had a wonderful day,” said Marian. “Just pottering about in this lovely countryside. And we took good care of you car, Will,” she added. “It’s so kind of you to let us use it on our holiday. Considering its age, it goes very well and is still very comfortable.”
“Old Bangura knows what he’s doing, all right. He isn’t such a bad engineer,” replied Will, looking across the large garden to the outbuildings in the yard beyond, where the bright blue flame of Kipling’s welding torch flickered in the evening light.
“I’m glad he agreed to come with us,” said Bonkers. “He’s taken on a new lease of life.”
“Any news from home?” Will asked Robin.
“Not since yesterday,” replied Robin. “But it was great to hear that the Bank of England had signed up at last. I’m sure there will soon be other banks wanting the software now.”
“Then the money starts rolling in, I suppose,” said Bonkers.
“I hope so,” said Robin. “We’ve a lot of other new products under development, and they all cost money for research.”
“I think we shall soon need to expand, too,” said Marian, wearing her administrator’s hat. “New staff will mean new offices.”
“And increased costs,” added Robin. “But let’s not talk about work - we’re having a break. This is supposed to be the second half of our gap year, which you two à” he pointed at Will and Bonkers, “à interrupted all those months ago!”
“What about the diamonds?” asked Will. “Any news about them yet?”
“Any day now, I should think,” replied Robin. “My father managed to get them to a dealer in Amsterdam through the Dutch bank my old Aunt used, and they will have been there nearly a week now.”
“After all the trouble we took to get the damn things, I’m keen to know what they’re worth.”
“Not just trouble,” said Bonkers. “It was a considerable threat to our personal safety, too. You don’t realise the risks we took and the dangers we faced!” said Bonkers.
“You know very well you both thoroughly enjoyed your little adventure,” said Marian. “You haven’t stopped bragging about it, and every time, the story gets embellished a bit more!”
She turned to Robin. “You know, we should have told that pompous old fart Monsieur Gilbert, in Switzerland, that he was about to get a few more millions deposited in his precious bank!” she joked.
“He would certainly have called you Lady FitzWalter again, that’s for sure,” said Robin with a chuckle.
Marian giggled - it was infectious.
Will laughed, and said, “You never did properly tell us about Switzerland, your Ladyship.”
Robin roared with laughter. “It really was the funniest thing.”
“When you think about it,” chortled Bonkers, “we’ve really all had quite a lot of fun since we met.”
Suddenly they were all reminiscing, and the more they talked, the more they laughed.
“I must tell you how I became a spy for the British Government,” choked Will, with tears running down his face. “You wouldn’t believe it! And I’ve still got my own personal top secret satellite link.” He fell about laughing, waving his mobile phone in the air.
“And I’ll tell you how we robbed the Bank of England without them knowing anything about it,” guffawed Robin. “And then we gave it all back to them, and they still didn’t have a clue what was going on!”
They all roared with laughter.
“And what about that SAS bloke who called himself Tiger?” said Bonkers. “You never in all your life saw a litre of beer downed so fast. It was unbelievable!”
“Any more of that grog, mother?” shouted Will. “We’re laughing ourselves hoarse out here.”
The laughter and hilarity reached such a pitch that Will’s mother became quite worried. She sniffed suspiciously at the root beer jug.
“Do you think I’ve done something wrong with this brew?” she asked James Bartlett, peering out on to the veranda. “I’ve never known it have this effect before.”
“Let me have another glass, and I’ll tell you,” replied James.
“I think you’ve had quite enough already,” scolded Beatrice, “I don’t want you getting into that state.”
She peered out on to the veranda again. “And I think they’ve had enough too, if you ask me.”
“They’re only young, so let them enjoy themselves,” said James. “They’ve been working hard recently, and we have a lot to thank them for, after all.”
She sniffed the empty jug again, re-filled it and took it out to the now hysterical friends on the veranda.
Robin’s mobile phone rang.
“Sorry about this,” he excused himself. “Could just be some news.”
He left the veranda and strolled into the garden out of earshot. His friends heard nothing, until he shouted, “WHAT?” and put his hand to his forehead in a gesture of exasperation. He talked on for a minute or two, and eventually put the phone back into his pocket. He stood in silent contemplation for a moment, before turning to walk back to the bungalow.
“You won’t believe this,” he said, when he rejoined his friends. “My father was on the phone. He’s heard from Amsterdam.”
“And?” asked Will.
“And the diamonds are fakes, that’s what. Every last one of them, bits of worthless costume jewellery.”
There was a stunned silence, and suddenly the jollity stopped,
“I’ll be damned,” said Will eventually.
“After all that, too,” said Bonkers sadly.
“Just like your gold nugget; fools gold, after all- iron pyrites,” said Will.
“But where are the real diamonds?” asked Marian. “Who’s got those?”
“Could Tiger have done a switch?” asked Bonkers.
“No way,” replied Will. “They were in those individual poky-bags, each sealed with wax and an official emblem of some sort embossed into them.”
“Perhaps the President’s still got them after all,” suggested Marian.
“Or perhaps there never were any,” said Will.
Robin sipped his root beer thoughtfully, and looked out across the lawns and the rose garden to the outbuildings beyond. He noticed that there was no sparkling blue flame from Kipling Bangura’s welding torch across the yard, and that he was talking to two men on a motorbike.
“I think I know,” he said quietly. “Yes. I think I know.”
***