A Friend in Deed
The sun rose and the early morning light shone on a majestic range of mountains. They were higher than those of the Western Cape and even more impressive. David looked out of the window and wished he was there under happier circumstances. He was tired and more than a little apprehensive.
They had arrived after midnight. Sipho roused their hosts from their beds and, despite the late hour and lack of warning, they received a warm welcome. Sipho was treated like a long-lost son and Petra was treated like royalty.
David was uncertain about relationships. The people were Xhosa. More than that he couldn’t say. Sipho spoke to them in Xhosa making frequent references to Petra. It was unclear what he said but they evidently got the message that Petra was in great danger and the two white men were protecting her.
An elderly woman kept hugging them in turn and saying “good man”. David guessed she was frustrated because she couldn’t say more to thank them. Some of the younger people knew more English but said very little. They were members of an extended family and lived in a compound surrounded by a high brushwood fence. The old lady was the matriarch and had her own house. Her sons lived in separate houses with their wives and children.
David fought back tiredness and struggled to stay awake. He drove most of the way after they left East London and entered the ancient tribal homelands of the Xhosa people. At first nothing looked different. The buildings were much the same as those in the Cape and the people wore the same sort of clothes.
That changed when Sipho told him to turn onto a side road. Tar gave way to gravel. The road climbed and the countryside started to look more like the Africa he had imagined. Round houses with thatched roofs appeared. Small boys drove cattle beside the road and young girls carried plastic water containers on their heads.
David guessed he was seeing life as it was when Sipho was a boy. His world changed when Richard de Villiers paid for him to go to school in Cape Town. It remained much the same for the people he left behind.
Right now, Sipho was sleeping on the floor beside Mario. He had discarded his smart suit and changed into clothes that some sympathetic person had given him. They were too big for his slim build but that didn’t matter. Sipho no longer stood out as someone who didn’t belong.
He opened an eye and looked at David.
‘What’s the time?’
‘Coming up to eight o’clock.’
Sipho produced a small radio.
‘They lent me this. I’ve tuned in to Durban. It broadcasts in English. The breakfast news hour is coming up.’
The radio spluttered into life. The reception was poor. In the past, David had been struck by how similar breakfast shows were throughout the English speaking world. This one was different.
Social issues received a heavy plug. Sport came next then the real news began. There was more trouble amongst migrant workers in the gold mines. A senior politician had been accused of taking bribes and a hero of the struggle against apartheid had been honoured by having a bridge named after her.
The news ended and was followed a family drama in which a mother argued with her teenage daughters. Sipho switched off the radio.
‘There was nothing about Carla,’ he said.
‘No,’ David shook his head.
‘They must have found her by now.’
‘You can bet your life they have.’ Mario sprang to life. ‘Manuela would have been waiting for her.’
‘Who?’ Sipho said.
‘Carla’s mother.’
Mario threw off his blanket and reached for his shirt.
‘Manuela would want to know what happened. They were in it together. They both wanted to kill Petra and Anna.’
Maybe we should have taken her with us,’ Sipho said.
‘Perhaps ...’
Mario pulled on the shirt.
‘Anyway, we didn’t. We had enough problems with Charlie. There wasn’t room in the car. Imagine what it would have been like to have Carla with us.’
‘So we left her tied up ...’
David listened to the two men. He was pleased to have them with him. Both believed in basic human rights and were prepared to put themselves at risk to protect others.
‘I want to know what she told them,’ Mario said.
‘Who?’
‘The Cabal. They would have asked all sorts of questions and she’ll have loused up. I know her. Carla makes mistakes. She loused up on the boat. She thought I wouldn’t know what they were doing. They sent the cage to the bottom while I was changing out of my wetsuit. When I came back on deck they were trying to kill Petra and David.’
‘Who will be doing the questioning?’ Sipho asked.
‘My parents for starters. They’ll want to know about me. Why wasn’t I tied up like her? Carla doesn’t think things through. She’ll say the first thing that comes into her stupid head and she’ll soon be contradicting herself.’
‘Who else will question her?’
‘Other senior members of the Cabal. They’ll report to Cuthbert Maguire. He’ll want to know what’s going on.’
‘And the police?’ Sipho asked.
‘They’ll try to keep them out of it.’
‘So you weren’t surprised when there was nothing on the news about it?’ You didn’t expect to hear anything?’
‘No.’ Mario reached for his socks. ‘But we had to listen and we have to go on listening. We need to know what’s going on.’
Sipho clambered to his feet. Unlike Mario he had slept fully dressed. He pulled on a pair of boots and took the keys of the Bentley from his pocket.
He turned to David.
‘I must hide the car. There is a big shed near here. I’ll put it in there. Then we must leave. But first I must see my wife and daughter. Please come with me.’
The Bentley looked more than a little out of place beside the small house. Sipho’s wife had gone to live in his parents’ compound when they married. That was how it was done in the old days, when people followed the old religions, and it didn’t change when they became Christian.
David felt uneasy. The Bentley always attracted attention. Even in the city people turned to look at it. In a place like this, it would stand out like the proverbial butterfly on a cow’s bum. The whole neighbourhood would be talking about them. They should have hidden the car while it was still dark and found another way to visit Sipho’s wife.
He stood to the side and felt like an intruder. Sipho’s little daughter leapt into her father’s arms when they arrived. Now, she was hiding shyly behind him, fingers to her lips, as if wondering about the strange white man who was with her daddy.
Sipho and his wife embraced and spoke in Xhosa. David noticed faces at the window and felt uncomfortable. They were leaving far too big a trail for the Cabal to follow. The longer they stayed the more dangerous it would be for everyone. He waited for an opportunity to speak and warn them.
‘Sipho. Your wife and child must leave and hide somewhere. They can’t come with us. That would put them at more risk.’
‘We have spoken about that, David.’
‘No one must know where they have gone.’
‘That’s what we have been talking about, David. We know a safe place. There is an old lady. She lives in a very remote area. We have discussed what has to be done.’
They left soon afterwards. David drove and Sipho waved goodbye to his family. He looked like a man who feared he would never see them again.
Kate Bromley shovelled a pile of elephant poo from the driveway and wondered how it had got there. The gates of the safari park should have been locked and made secure. There was also a cattlegrid. It was designed to exclude bovine beasts and other animals with hooves. It hadn’t deterred the elephants. One or more of the big beasts was wandering around the manor grounds, eating the vegetables in the kitchen garden and shitting.
She wondered what she was doing there. Living the life of the Lady of the Manor might appeal to some but it didn’t appeal to her. It was a job and she had to keep up appearances. TV-producers loved her. She was the sort of exotic creature that appealed to their audiences.
They had developed a symbiotic relationship. It was a term she had learnt from her biology course at university. Living things learnt to live with one another. On the surface, they might have little in common. They might even hate one another. That didn’t matter so long as one produced something the other needed to survive.
It could be an ability to poison predators. Some creatures and plants excreted poisonous substances. Ohers produced nutritious shit. That was the case with the algae that lived in the cells of marine clams. Their excretions kept the clams alive and healthy.
Hers nourished the television channels and kept the visitors flowing into the manor grounds where they paid to see things and bought ice cream. Kate wanted out. There was nothing exciting about being Lady of the Manor.
Boring! Boring! Boring!
The words drummed through her head and she wondered how she had slipped into such a pathetic role. Life must have far more to offer than this. She had just turned twenty-four. The years were slipping by.
Then her phone rang.
‘Kate ...’
She heard a woman’s voice and cringed. She sounded like one of those concerned persons who were continually pestering her for contributions to a worthy cause. They thought she was made of money. Her inclination was to tell them to piss off. Instead, she adopted her lovely-lady voice.
‘With whom am I speaking?’
‘This is Kirstin Hansen.’
It was a voice from the past.
‘Can you hear me?’
‘Yes, Kirstin.’
‘Do you remember David Paget?’
It would be difficult to forget him.
‘Yes. How is he?’
‘David has run into a bit of trouble …’
Kate listened as Kirstin told her that David was somewhere in southern Africa with a group of people who were on the run and needed to be airlifted out. Kirstin talked about an international mafia-like organisation and referred to it as the Cabal. Kate had not the slightest doubt that such organisations existed.
‘I’m a bit short of funds, Kirstin.’
‘Humphrey will pay …’
Kate listened as Kirstin sketched a plan. Would she go in and rescue David? Kate had not the slightest hesitation in agreeing. Her present position was a farce. She was being used. For generations her family had been lords of Bromley Manor but it no longer belonged to them. She was the latest in a long line of Bromleys who pretended to have some claim on the place.
‘Can you make yourself available at a moment’s notice?’
‘Yes, Kirstin.’
Kate began to think of the sort of plane she would like Humphrey to fund. She would have to research landing strips and refuelling points. It was going to be a clandestine operation. That’s what made it so exciting … that and seeing David again.