Boss Takes All (24 page)

‘Margaret, I should have gone ten, fifteen years ago. I suppose I got into the habit and enjoyed being a somebody, but what did I accomplish for our people?'

‘Simon, you have been honest, hardworking and the people loved you. Think how many of them have asked you to stay on.'

‘Better the devil you know.'

Now he was sitting alone in the presence of Mister Big for the very first time. Abel Rubai was being friendly and attentive, but Simon was waiting for him to come to the end of the small talk. He had an idea about why he had been summoned, but the essence of this man remained a mystery. How could a person who never stood for let alone won any public office dominate the happenings in the country like this? He was very clever with money. That must have been the key to his rise from financial adviser up the magic ladder to the very top rung.

‘Simon, Nakuru South. How many years now?'

‘Too many, Abel! We need some young blood up there.'

‘My thoughts exactly. I've been giving a lot of time to how we move on in this very important constituency.'

Abel did not miss the sudden raising of the eyebrows and the expression of surprise.

‘Of course, Simon. Think about it. You have the army camp. The road and rail links pass through. Then there is the wealth and employment generated by the farms around the lake. More than just important, vital.'

‘Can't say that I've noticed much interest in the place from Nairobi in my time up there.'

‘Because the government knew they had a man up there they could trust. You must have been aware of that.'

‘Abel, let me be frank with you.'

‘I would want nothing less. Fire away.'

‘The hospital.'

Abel was the one caught off guard. He felt his gorge rising. Surely Simon Nyache was not supporting the crazy idea of the Naivasha tart! His mind was soon put at rest.

‘There is a desperate need in Gilgil. We have abandoned five hundred or more of our people who have some sickness of the mind. Three, four million shillings would transform lives.'

‘That's a disgrace! Why have I never heard about this? You must write a memo. Send it directly to me.'

Simon hated the hypocrisy. Memo. Treating me like a bosom friend. Nauseous stuff. But there was something else to come.

‘Next time I'm travelling up that way I must call in. Your successor will have to give it high priority.' A slight pause and Abel Rubai had reached his destination. ‘While we are on the subject of the man to take over from you, I should like to ask your advice.'

Simon smiled. ‘That's a first.'

‘What do you think of the idea of my boy Reuben taking over from you?'

‘I know nothing about him, not even how old he is. Is he keen?'

‘Perhaps you would be ready to take him under your wing, introduce him to some people.'

‘They would take a lot more notice if you took him around.'

‘What if the two of us … just had an idea. Take him to see that terrible place in Gilgil.'

‘Mister Rubai, I've been ‘round the area saying my farewells.'

‘So I hear. Someone was saying that you were seen visiting some of the farms on the lake.'

Alarm bells clanged in Simon's head. So this was what it was all leading up to. And how much more had this ‘someone' told him? But wily old Simon had prepared an answer for just this situation. If it didn't work he would give him the real works about supporting the McCall boy and Serena. It was time to step out of the shadows.

‘Yes, that's right. There's no secret. In all my years as MP I never once went to any of those farms looking for a vote. I had some spare time one afternoon so I called in to introduce myself. They all knew me …'

‘All, Simon?'

‘They were really friendly, thanked me but said nothing about where their vote would go this time.'

‘Did you call in on the McCalls?'

‘First stop. That family has suffered so much and their workers even more. All my people, and I could not offer them even the smallest bit of assistance.'

‘European thieves. Got what was coming to them. But that's not our concern here. Let's organise a meeting for some time next week. I'll make the arrangements and let you know. You'll stay for tea?'

‘That's kind, but I have to get Margaret home. She's promised our daughter that she will babysit tonight.'

* * *

‘Simon, you are trembling.'

‘Margaret, in a minute. Let me drive us out of this place before I talk.'

Simon turned right at the gatehouse and right again at the crossroads. He parked on a verge close to a pair of open wooden gates. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

‘He knows everything. That night I went to Londiani. He has spies everywhere.'

‘You mean that someone at the meeting …'

‘No, no, no. I would never believe that. Someone on watch outside. Money buys him everything, or so he thinks'

The handsome old couple sat silently, calculating the fallout of the hour-long visit to the pink palace that Margaret had enjoyed. Ahead of them were a hundred metres of a wide verge, bordered on the house side by a well-built sandstone wall. The grass on the verge had had been cut short and broken up by beds of flowers in full bloom.

‘You chose a beautiful place to stop. I wonder what the inside must look like.'

‘No coincidence. I know the family who live in this house. I was here not many weeks ago. The Daniels family. Welsh. See the name, “Cartref” means home. You have forgotten?'

‘Um, give me a moment …'

‘If I said “Simon Mboya”?'

Margaret clasped her hands to her mouth. ‘Oh, Simon!' Margaret had been associated with the politics of Kenya enough to draw a frightening conclusion.

All fear and trembling had vanished from Simon's mind and body.

‘I feel safe here. If we went inside now we would be made welcome. I could tell our story and they would look after us. I was here for Simon's funeral.'

‘Are you afraid …?'

‘That I could be next? Not afraid, not for me. Annoyed, yes. I missed my chance to spell out - what did Don McCall say - “a few home truths”. But in that place, he is so intimidating. Me a little flyweight against the big bully heavyweight.'

‘Are you enjoying this?'

‘No, my dear, but my tail is up. The big old lion will not find this dik-dik so easy to catch! And I have the beginnings of a plan.'

‘You sound like you've been down the Lucky Bar!'

‘I'm going back into the city to drop you off at your sister's place. No arguing. Then I'm going to call in the troops.'

‘The troops!'

‘Yes, and this time, Mister Rubai, you're going to be the one with the bloody nose!'

‘Is it wise to talk like this?'

‘Wise? Perhaps not, but here I am, eighty years old and about to be put out to pasture and, all of a sudden, I find myself in the middle of a big adventure!'

n the day of her ‘second' wedding, Rebecca McCall woke up in the same bed she had slept in for the whole of her life. For company she had her sisters, Martha and Jane. Her mother knew that her firstborn had done this to please her. Rebecca was the first one up in the village, but she knew that she had company waiting outside. In the last darkness of the night, Maria Kabari had borrowed Hosea's bike and ridden the short distance to Londiani along a quiet Sunday morning road.

The two friends greeted each other with a long, close, swaying hug.

‘Good morning, Madam McCall!'

‘And good morning to you, Mistress Kabari!'

They sat close together on the flat rock seats that encircled the hearth fire that was at the centre of the small scattering of rondavels. The embers were more grey than red, but there was enough warmth to ward off the chill of early morning.

‘Maria, is this wise?'

‘Tom was full of worries yesterday and the bride today? Sure it's wise. The day will open out like a rose. Its perfume will fill the valley and the guests will go home full of hope.'

‘Where does all this peace come from? Being with you, it's … it's like listening to sweet harmonies.'

‘Rebecca, listen to me. Even before I met you, I knew that this day would come.'

‘I don't understand.'

‘Good. It's better that way. That first concert in the Bomas with Toni and Mary, I was there. The moment you stepped onto the stage, did you hear the gasp of wonder? Maybe not, but I tell you that anyone sitting in that place who had the eyes to see could have understood so many things about you.'

‘But how can you say this, Maria? And who would be interested in a wash girl from Naivasha?'

‘The great teachers talk about vibrations, auras. Hosea smiles when I try to explain. Remember, Julius Rubai and his family were in the front row there. Thomas was further back. Even in that crowd the pain screamed out. What was in your heart was also in your voice. Am I telling a truth here?'

‘I am getting married today and you talk about Julius!'

‘Yes, my darling, because sharing that pain in your heart was love, the purest love I have ever seen in a human being. In those moments of agony the spirit of the universe was with you. Rebecca, this is no crazy idea. What happened to you happens to millions of men, women, children. Children see it clearest. When it comes to us, we are aware of it, but it is hard to understand, to believe, so we hide it away because we are afraid that our friends, our family will tell us that we are mistaken or plain foolish.'

‘Maria, this is too much. You know that I love you and I trust you. I am so glad that you have come into my life, our lives but …'

‘Today is special in ways that I do not understand. I have been carrying these thoughts in my mind for many days, a message, not for me.'

‘For me? What you are saying sounds like a burden.'

‘But a burden that will be light because, even though they may not realise it yet, many, many people will be eager to share it. Without you there would be no dream. Sing on, Rebecca. Look, I have brought a flask of chai with lots of milk and sugar. A girl should spoil herself on such a day.'

By chance the seats they had chosen were facing east. All the while they had been talking, the regular drama of the morning had been unfolding in front of them. Darkness had become full light and the villagers were stirring.

‘I must go home. Hosea will think that his bike has been stolen in the night.'

Rebecca drank down the last of the chai. There was a broad smile on her face.

‘Maria, what dawa did you put in that drink? All of a sudden …'

‘I feel the excitement, too. I must check the sugar when I get home. I have delivered the message. It's like I am getting married myself. All right, Hosea, I'm coming!'

Eight hours later a red bus bumped its way along the track leading down to Londiani from South Lake Road. For the second time in less than a year a group of singers from Nakuru had been invited to celebrate an important occasion in the lives of a young Naivasha couple. Earlier, Rebecca and Tom were having their first engagement party at the rondavel village. Now, for the second wedding, many of the guests were already gathered a stone's throw away on the open ground in front of the new Big House.

Four relieved young Welshmen had spent the morning hard at work finishing off a second upstairs bathroom. After a dawn service at the Catholic church, Rafaella and her two gardening boys had been prinking the soil and watering the hundreds of vigorous plants flourishing in her new pride and joy.

No more than thirty of this day's guests had been up at Pembroke. Father Robert and the two Irish sisters from Nakuru Cathedral were thrilled to be invited to join the locals on a farm rising out of its ashes on a day when the warm afternoon sun had transformed the waters of the lake into a vast, gleaming silver tray.

Following their tradition, the twenty-five members of the Nakuru singers began their performance as soon as they stepped down from their bus. As each man, smartly dressed in blue blazer and grey trousers, got down, he placed his hand on the shoulder of the man in front. The totos in the crowd pushed to the front to get a good view of the drama. When they were all down, the men moved off with slow, rhythmic steps, chanting a wordless lament.

It was the biggest wedding ever seen in the town. So many people dressed in their colourful best, so much orderly chaos. The choir sang from the veranda steps. Their audience responded with tribal songs, with hymns, then, following the briefest lull, a woman's powerful voice struck out with a sweet cooing of the names of the bride and groom.

‘Re-becc-a, ahhhh, Re-becc-a, ohhhh!

‘Tho-mas, ahhhh, Tho-mas, ohhhh!

‘To-geth-er, To-geth-er,

‘For ever, for ever, for ever!'

Soon the throng was standing, clapping and moving rhythmically from foot to foot. The excitement was building rapidly. On and on they went with calls shouted from all corners. What had begun as a peaceful gathering of friends and neighbours was turning into a spontaneous prayer meeting.