Boss Takes All (21 page)

‘Abel, the people expect too much of you. The burden is too much. Jesus is willing to share that burden.'

Abel groaned inwardly. He was fighting hard to find even the tiniest spark of real hope and Sally comes up with the old mantra which she had pounded him with so many times. But Abel, the master of deception, managed to dig out a smile, even a throaty chuckle.

He leaned back, languid and content. ‘Perhaps it is time. Tell you what. First time you go down to church, I'll come, drive you myself. Just now when I looked up, you seemed to be pitying your old man. Ah, much better. Those eyes are sparking again. No prettier sight in the world. Sal, do you think I could hold him for a second?'

‘God has blessed us. Here's our son. Take him.'

Abel stood and took the boy, lifting him tenderly and letting him lean into his chest and shoulder.

‘Now, young man, you take a good sniff of your daddy. My, my, Sally, this is one big child you've brought us.'

Abel closed his eyes again but this time not to hide away. The solid, warm flesh and the clean, new smell were intoxicating, thrilling.

‘Sally, how many times have I heard you say that we must live for the moment? What a moment! When are you coming home? But, hey, I'm forgetting. Reuben is sitting out there some place. I'll get him.'

He pushed the door open and, without checking to see if his son was in hearing distance, shouted along the corridor.

‘Reuben, get yourself down here! Your brother wants to say hello!'

Before he let the door close, Abel spent a few seconds checking out the surroundings. ‘Mmn, clean, lots of activity, smart looking staff, quiet. Nothing much wrong with our hospitals. This country doesn't need any help from singing witches.'

Reuben was enjoying a pleasant conversation at the desk of the maternity block when he heard his name called out somewhere in the distance. The order signalled the end of his freedom for the day. He knew where his mother was holed up, but he insisted that his new companion show him the way. He wasn't quite done with showing off and besides, having a pretty girl by his side would distract him from unwelcome thoughts.

Alone at the door, he stood back and looked in. He psyched himself up for the ordeal that was awaiting him inside. He was not excited about the prospect of the new Julius making his entrance into the world. This unexpected latecomer would be fussed and pampered from morning till night. His first tooth, his first step, his first word would be for family and friends to drool over. He pushed open the door, determined to be a successful hypocrite.

‘Con-grat-ulations, Mama and Papa! I thought you were never going to invite me in.'

Sally saw through him straight away.

‘Aw hush up, Reuben. I remember you when your brothers and sister came along. Couldn't get you to hold any of them for a kiss and I do believe that you disappeared into your room for days.'

‘I'm older now. I understand these things a whole lot better.'

‘You know, Sally, I think the boy may be telling it like it is. He's been a model of common sense these last couple of days. Said the right things at the funeral and, this morning, when there were a few problems, he was right there behind me. If he carries on like this, he's going to be a top rate MP.'

Sally seized on the word that troubled her.

‘Abel, what do you mean “problems”?'

‘I picked the wrong word, Sal. All the excitement …'

‘Won't wash, husband. You called in to Naivasha on the way home.'

‘Mama, how did you work that out?'

Abel cut him off.

‘Now, son, that is not a smart piece of that common sense I was just talking about. And yes, Sally, we did call in. But problem? No. Some people over there think that they can take over from the government …'

‘You mean the Kamau girl and the idea of a hospital.'

‘Sally, what are they feeding you in here?'

‘So far nothing. Haven't been in here for that long. But, Abel, long enough to think some more about that girl. I've had two Juliuses on my mind. Remember what I said about poison? Not so easy to get rid of, is it?'

‘Sal, this a day for celebration, not gloomy thoughts.'

‘Just had a crazy thought. Do you think that our little one can take any of this in? Anyway, some day …'

‘He's going to understand that she has been bad news from the start. Some day she will pay the price. Ever heard of the word “karma”?'

‘Oh, yes. “You reap what you sow.”'

‘Jesus talk?'

‘Jesus talk. But this karma doesn't always turn out the way you might have expected. But, gentlemen, this child and I have shared the most wonderful experience. Now we are emotionally drained. And, even more important, Mama must give Julius his afternoon tea. And, Abel, tomorrow, I'm having a check-up. I hope to be home for coffee at eleven. Perhaps we could talk a bit more about hospitals. If we made a contribution to Rebecca's project, that would make it semi-official and …'

‘Sally, you've got that naughty schoolgirl look on your face. Yes, tomorrow. I think I need to explain a few things to you.'

* * *

Now there were just over four weeks to the wedding. By that time every last vestige of fire damage would have disappeared from the farm and from the ruin of Big House. Already the tents were going up on the flower fields and the first stage of planting around the new, infant garden was almost complete.

But as for the house, it would be impossible to have even the ground floor finished by then. It would be a very tidy building site. Jim Sawyer would see to that. The unexpected arrival of four young men changed the time scale considerably.

* * *

Two beautiful women were moving from plant to plant around the garden, ‘bowling up', as Rafaella had described the work.

‘When we feed our little children we make sure that none of our precious water is wasted.'

Rebecca loved a dirty hands job, sweeping the fertile soil up into little craters. When she knelt she always made sure that she was facing in the direction of the lake. Every time she sat back on her haunches and looked out across the plain, there it was on the raised piece of meadow, her own house, ‘Long House' as everyone had begun to call it. Having Maria for company gave the work an added delight. They had shared so much in such a short time.

Rebecca had just finished a bowl around another young plant. She leaned back, shaking her head gently but smiling.

‘That first time when you called my name. I felt so … irritated. You were inside the Daniels' little surgery with Simon. Really, I think I was plain scared. I still can't work out how you knew I was there.'

Maria laughed. ‘And I cannot give you a sensible explanation. Suddenly, a thought comes into my head and, well, I have learned to trust them. Tell you the truth, I was the one who was in awe. There I was in the presence of the beautiful singer, the most famous woman in the country.

Rebecca moved on to her next plant, focused hard on it so that her face was hidden from Maria.

‘You changed my life, a lot of lives around here. Without you, Papa, we would have lost him. “Blood Sisters”. If men can be blood brothers.'

‘Wonderful. I've never had a younger sister before. Two of the most talkative brothers in creation and you can't always share with a brother.'

‘Martha and Jane are a bit young for sharing.'

‘Especially ugly, painful thoughts, maybe about a certain Nairobi man who was here yesterday. Lydia told me. You know how much she looks up to you. She said she was so proud of you. Sent him on his way like he was some naughty schoolboy.'

‘Was it wise though?'

‘Were you speaking the plain truth, Rebecca?'

‘My truth.'

‘The more he hears the truth, the more it will eat into that shell he has built around himself. The tiny worm will eventually destroy the whole apple. We all know that he is a rotten apple to start with.'

‘But the people love him. When he makes speeches …'

‘They simply fear him.'

‘There was so much hate in his eyes. I even felt some pity for Reuben. He looked frightened standing behind his father, embarrassed, too. “You don't meddle in government business. There will be no new hospital built on this scrubby bit of bush”. I think he's a little bit crazy.'

‘Not so much of the little bit! Doctors have a name for his condition. I have two words, “murderer” and “coward”. Just remember Simon Mboya and the forty-five young people burned to death on the flower fields of this farm. Burned to death, Rebecca. Sonya and the boys are coming up this afternoon. And there is another word, from a wise man's teaching. I don't suppose he ever thinks about it. “Karma”.'

‘She's bringing material for the boys' suits. The page boys. I should be excited about the wedding.'

‘Sister, be excited. I'm excited. The whole country is excited. Got an idea. We need a coffee break. How about if we go for a walk over to that house on that little hill and take in the views?'

* * *

‘Noah won't even come over. Seems that he's a bit old for being a pageboy. Says he'll do it if he can wear his football kit! He's got it on now, teaching Ewan how to kick the ball like a proper player. He's got this idea that since we lost Simon, he's the man in the family. He wants to look after us all. He can be so serious sometimes. I want him to be a nine year old.'

‘Sonya, it's so touching. I can feel my throat tightening up.'

‘So you don't mind, Rebecca?'

‘Tom says we are short of someone to show people to their seats up in Pembroke. Perhaps he'll be willing to do that. Bertie will help him. There are so many strange rules in these English weddings. Tom says it's all right. The “real” wedding is down here at the farm. It's a mystery. I'm glad I was born in Africa.'

‘But so was Tom, Rebecca.'

‘I know that, Maria. I'm getting confused. Perhaps it's wedding nerves.'

‘You're reminding me.' Sonya bit her lip hard and closed her eyes before she went on.

‘About a hundred years ago, when I got the news that Simon had been taken, I had just been to a wedding, in Kidwelly, a small town near Carmarthen. The boys loved the place because it had a castle. A Welsh wedding can't be so different from an English one, except that this one was in Welsh. I'm pretty good on what goes on. Any questions, ask Noah and me.'

The long and solemn silence that followed was set against the sound of building noises coming from somewhere behind the veranda where the three friends were sitting at a small table while Moses and Sammy were finishing their Coke and cake on the steps, waiting for the call to be measured up.

Half an hour later, at four-thirty, there was a general gathering at the official time for tea at Londiani. Jim Sawyer's men were making their noisy way to their transport while Jim himself joined the group on the veranda to make his daily report on progress on the site. Jim had a surprise when he took his place at a table with his tea and biscuits. Sitting opposite him was a familiar face but one he had not expected to see at Londiani. He shot to his feet.

‘Sonya! I never expected …'

Jim was a big man, in his fifties now. He was of old European stock. His grandfather, one of the early pioneers who had travelled down from the Aberdares, bought a fertile patch of land just north of Nakuru and never left. Jim had followed his father into the building trade. A Sawyer house meant top quality work. But at the end of a day on site, pulling his weight with his men, he looked as immaculate as when he stepped down from his pick-up eight hours before. His bronzed face revealed his disturbed emotion. His lips were moving but not bringing out any coherent words and his eyes flickered rapidly as though they were struggling to hold back tears.

Sonya understood and was moved. There were no tears in her eyes. A nod and a warm smile persuaded Jim to sit back down.

‘Sonya, I feel ashamed, bringing it all back again for the nth time.'

‘Don't be! Of course, it hurts, but that will never go away. Our Simon has left a big, big gap in so many lives. How many weeks is it since we saw you?'

‘I remember you telling Ruth that you were going overseas to a wedding in a few weeks. Forgive me, but that was such a happy day for everyone in our church. Having Simon to speak to us. He was like bright light amongst us.'

‘And he talked about bringing one of his clinics to the town. Jim, tell your people that there will be a clinic.'

‘We still have the money in the bank.'

‘We're smiling. The light hasn't gone out. It reaches a long way. Listen to this. When I was in Wales, I went back to the Methodist church that our grandparents helped to build. It is like the churches over here, full of people, and not just on Sunday. You see so many young men and women. Some came from Korea and China to brush up on their English and learn more about gospel teaching. But, when it comes to living a Christian life, they are further along the path than most of us.

‘Simon had often visited when we were students in London. They loved him even back then, especially when he told them stories about Kenya. There's a Methodist church down on the coast and the congregation in Calfaria took it into their hearts to help their brothers and sisters in Malindi. Well, four young Welshmen are just finishing a project down there, three builders, and a doctor taking a year out. They've been working with the locals to put up a new hall. Coming to us tomorrow for a few days. David and Dot are looking forward to trying out their Welsh again.'

‘Builders? What trades? Do you know?'

‘I was told. Um, Ivor's a builder, a brickie man, Dai's a carpenter, Phil an electrician or a plumber. Iolo calls himself the medical dogsbody.'

‘Wonderful!'

‘Synchronicity! Modern for “God at work”! The money for the work the boys have done in Malindi was put up by a certain Nairobi lady, Sally Rubai. She wanted it kept a secret.'