Boss Takes All (27 page)

The other four were already standing around the large breakfast table, waiting for them before they began the meeting-cum-consultation. A big moment had arrived in the drive to build the new Naivasha hospital. Peter Bellengeri helped Debbie Miller to lift her large leather document holder onto the table.

‘Open it up, Rebecca. You're the boss here, you know.'

‘I'm going to need some help. My fingers are trembling.' But the clasp was easy and the task soon done. Rebecca stooped to take a sidelong look into a holder that was still flat on the table. ‘Debbie, so many sheets of paper, or should I say …?'

‘Sheets will do fine. Don't forget these are plans for a hospital. I've done two sets so you can have a choice.'

Peter and Iolo slid the documents out and Debbie began to spread them on the table in order. Rebecca had only ever seen one set of architect's plans and those were for Long House, and she barely understood the lines and figures on those. She shook her head in disbelief at the sight of these beautiful, complicated works of art.

‘But how could one person …?'

‘Ah, but it was not just me. I'll explain. When I got back to school, I couldn't wait to start on the drawings. When my friends found out what I was doing, they were as excited as I am about this, er, work. Bad word but, you know. In the end there were enough plans for ten hospitals. “My God, this for an actual place in Africa!” By the way, I stored away all the other plans.'

Debbie focused on her first and largest sheet, a general impression on what the hospital would look like when it was built.

‘This is number one plan, my favourite. What do you think, Rebecca?'

‘Unbelievable!' The emotion showed through in the tremble of her voice and the moistness of her eyes. ‘I think it will be the most beautiful building in the whole country!'

‘You can add Wales to that list.' Iolo was wide-eyed and already wondering if he could persuade this brilliant young woman to come to Llanelli where plans were being made for a new hospital.

Jim Sawyer had been a builder all his life. When they started to look at details in the plans, he was very impressed.

‘You're right, Rebecca. And I can tell straight away that whatever contractor is lucky enough to work from these plans will have the best experience of his life. Everything is so sharp and clear.'

The discussion around the table became animated and technical. Sonya pored over the drawings of the large maternity wing. She wept for the joy of seeing them and for the sadness that Simon was not with her to share what would have been a fulfillment of his dream.

‘Almost' Doctor Iolo was looking at measurements and the facilities planned for staff as well as patients. His heart sank a little when be began to think about the cost of materials, construction and the expense of running the place. Would there be, could there be enough money for all this?

Rebecca moved away from the table to sit alone with her own tumble of thoughts. She wished Papa could have been with her to calm her, give her a sense of proportion. But she knew where he would begin. She closed her eyes in silent prayer and meditation.

As usual, when she longed for her prayer to be totally focused, she could not shut out the interruptions.

‘Rebecca, don't forget that the Father knows our needs better than we do, so I reckon that listening is better than talking. And always stay relaxed.'

Relaxed? For her trying to pray soon saw her mind turned into a battleground. Scenes and ideas flashed in and out of her mind like lightning strikes.

A married woman has new responsibilities. Three days a wife and she saw the possibilities of divided loyalties up ahead.

Such a wonderful building would cost so much money. Sooner rather than later she would have to confess that her dream was too big. The thrill of a dream fulfilled would turn into the drudgery of failure. She would let so many people down.

Cold thoughts chilled her imagination. Into her fevered brain stepped Julius Rubai, Reuben Rubai and, towering above them like a wicked, leering genie, their ruthless, arrogant father. She had heard the plans to bring him down. Their hopes were high, but even Paul and Daniel warned that risks were higher.

There, just across the room, the enthusiastic chatter continued. The plans were as real as ever. So why were the tears of despair wetting her cheeks?

A single low sob drew Sonya's attention. She, quickly followed by Debbie, hurried to her side. Within seconds the three women were stepping down from the veranda and striding, arms linked, slowly, so slowly across the spring grass of the plain. For Rebecca the gold of the morning had turned to dross. The cool breeze and the presence close by of a hundred familiar and much loved sights failed to revive her spirits. Sonya and Debbie were shocked by the sudden turn-around but knew that the way out for Rebecca and themselves would involve patient waiting. At last, Rebecca, calmer now, was able to share her fears.

‘I'm so sorry. I have built up so many hopes, but now, coming close to the real mountain, I see that I cannot climb. Mama was right to call me the dreamer of the family.'

‘But, Rebecca, you are not just close to your mountain, but you are not far from the summit.'

‘Sonya, I am overreaching. Such a building will cost —'

Debbie broke in. ‘Ah, I think I can help with that one. I wasn't intending to speak about it until after checking out the plans. Jim has already mentioned the next stage. The word is “costing”.'

‘I understand that.'

‘Yes, and this building is not going to fail for want of dollars and shillings. I can promise you that, hand on my heart!'

‘So you know how much it will cost.'

‘No one does yet, Rebecca. Listen. Boston is a rich city. In the university we have a campus radio, run by students. My friend, Mimi Adams, broadcasts a program twice a week, called “Science in action”. She knows all about you and the work you want to do here. Three weeks ago, she invited me on the show. We played part of a concert recorded in the Flamingo - you, Mary and Toni's boys. I gave background information. One of the Boston stations picked it up and rebroadcast the whole bit.'

‘These people were interested in Naivasha?'

‘Sure, very interested, and they wanted to help in some way. Money began to come in. The accounts department in my dad's firm has opened a bank account, “The Rebecca Kamau Hospital Fund”. It's a backup. I hope you're not offended. I didn't want to …'

‘Why offended, Debbie? Come to the hospital that we have today and ask the new mothers if they are offended. Only one person can stop us now.'

There was no need for an explanation. They had walked some way from Londiani, across the plain to a ridge above the lake. There was a sturdy wooden bench facing inland. They sat down and, for a time, no words were spoken. Each of them took in the hundreds of aspects of the broad landscape, stretching for many miles from the heights of Eburu to north-west, across the shadowy mass of the Aberdares to Longonot, Rebecca's old friend to the south-east.

The beauty of the view and the sweetness of the cool air filled Debbie with an unlooked for pride in the homeland she had hardly visited. Sonya leaned against the bench, closed her eyes and, lifting her face to catch the gentle breeze, asked her Simon to stay close and touch her with his wisdom. Rebecca silently blessed her companions and fixed her eyes on the clear outline of Long House, her new home. Recent memories, none of them pleasant, returned to her, Tom lying in his hospital bed, bruised and wounded after the ordeal of the kidnapping that almost took his life, her own father rescued from death by the mysterious gifts of Maria, the body of Sonya's Simon being prepared by Maria for his final passing in the sanctuary room of the Daniels' family. The memories were not pleasant, but she was not troubled by them.

‘Another good omen, Maura!' Sonya laughed at herself. ‘Where did that come from?'

‘And what does it mean?'

‘Oh, it's become a kind of family saying that sprang out of a dark moment, Debbie. We must seem to be a gloomy lot to be living in such a lovely place.'

‘That's a joke, Rebecca. You are the toughest, most lovable group of people I've ever even heard of. This Rubai character, he's scared stiff of you.'

Rebecca and Sonya leaned forward to look at each other wide-eyed with arched brows. Debbie watched them with mild amusement.

‘Have I said something outrageous?'

‘Sitting here in the sunshine, at home, with friends and family close by, perhaps, for half a second, Mister Big is cut down to size. Scared stiff of us? How does Tom put it? “In your dreams”.'

‘Yes, Rebecca, but “in your nightmares” would be nearer the truth. He's a murderer, Debbie. Just talk to father and Paul for five minutes. He specialises in planting daggers in innocent peoples' souls. I know it's a sin, but, last week David and I were talking about things for the thousandth time, since … well. David went to a drawer and took out the gun a Scottish friend gave him years ago. “Sonya, we use knives to help preserve life, but this little fellow …”'

‘“David, let me hold it for a moment.” It was heavier than I had expected and … beautiful. I pressed it to my cheek and it felt cool. “David, those knives, we use them to cut away diseased parts of flesh. Would it be so wrong to use this different piece of metal …?”'

‘Yes, wrong, but I would be willing to do it.'

‘God forbid …'

‘That's it. God does forbid. Remember what Mam called guns? One of the devil's playthings.'

‘David, promise me …'

‘I can't, love.'

‘I'm so sorry. My big mouth! There I go blathering on about the plans and I'm so excited.'

‘Debbie, sweetheart, you must keep “blathering on”. Please! We're excited, too! Sonya, I've just got married and I feel defenceless. We're in the risk business and I have never felt so high in my life.'

‘Rebecca, if your father-in-law saw us now, he'd be offering us whisky to calm us down!'

‘And I might just take him up on the offer!'

nce they were completely clear of Nakuru, Sonya began to show signs of agitation. She fiddled with the sheaf of notes she had brought so that she would not forget the uncomfortable questions she must ask once they reached their destination. She talked much more than usual and regularly shifted around in her seat in the front seat of the Pajero.

She could not have had two better companions for the journey and for the ordeal that lay ahead. Bertie had volunteered to drive and had left a happy Ewan to spend the day at Londiani where Jim Sawyer and his men were in the last stages of rebuilding Big House. She and Simon had been good friends with Jim long before the day when Anna was taken away from him minutes after she had her first and last sight of her miracle baby. He would make sure that Ewan and her three would enjoy their day among the big men. Maria had lived in Kericho for years and knew exactly where to find the two men they were going to meet later that morning.

Sonya's nervous state had not improved by the time Bertie pulled up close to the house of Charlie and Sue Mossly. Charlie was the owner and manager of a medium sized tea plantation in the heart of the rich, green hillsides and he and Sue had loved their lives in the ‘wild north' as their Nairobi friends had described Kericho when they sold up successful businesses on the huge estate off Mombasa Road south of the capital.

‘We thought we'd have early elevenses out in the garden. Don't worry, plenty of shade if you want it.'

‘Best time of day to sit idling out here. Try having a cup of afternoon tea on this very spot and likely you'd be soaked to the skin.'

Sonya recalled Alex's words to her before they had set out earlier that morning.

‘You'll love them. They really do have hearts of gold. But chalk and cheese. Just being with them will make you feel better.'

Sonya could not fail to see the truth of what Alex had said about the contrast between husband and wife. He was tall and powerfully built. It was no surprise to learn that he had played rugby for the army for several years. In his time in the service he had learned to be a first-class mechanic. But in his wanderings around the world, his voice had lost nothing of its Yorkshire accent.

Susan Mossly (nee Marlowe) was the film director's cliche of the typical English lady, in looks, at least. Slim, blonde and vivacious, she too had travelled extensively and everywhere she went, she always attracted attention with her unaffectedly posh voice - minus the plum in the mouth, not a surprise in the former head girl of a leading English boarding school.

They had met by chance at a polo match in the small up-country town of Gilgil. He had flown a friend up from Nairobi to play in a tournament and stayed on for the beer. She had wandered across from the Coulson house where she was spending a leisurely last weekend before returning home to London. She had stayed on. Within a month they were married and, two years later, had quit the city for a life in the hills.