Girl with the Golden Voice (19 page)

Ten minutes later Tom and Angela were on their way back to Diani, Angela as anxious on the return journey as she had been happy on the journey up to Malindi. Events were moving too quickly for her too. Certainties were crumbling before her eyes. Her worry helped her to be more forward than she would normally be.

‘Do you think she will go? To America? Bwana, I don't want to be rude, but do you want this thing to happen?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Bwana, please forgive me. Our eldest has this feeling for you and, perhaps you for her. Stephen and me, we are afraid for her. These new ways are not good.'

For most of the journey hardly a word had been exchanged between them. Now they were climbing the hill on the Diani side of the ferry crossing. Tom was glad that he did not have to pretend any more, but they were almost back at Simba with so little time for him to find the right words to make her heart and mind comfortable.

‘I love Rebecca more than anybody, any thing in this world. And now I ‘m scared I may have lost her, all because I'm a coward and a fool. We wanted to get married, didn't want to tell anybody else about our feelings, scared about what people would say, on both sides. We could have coped with that stuff. But I let her down. Waiting for “the right time” to speak out. No guts. Crazy.' He paused briefly before going on. ‘Angela, do you know what words went through my mind when I saw her getting out of that car at the farm with David Wajiru? A marriage made in heaven. Where did that come from? I still can't get over it. You know that's not my kind of stuff. Perhaps I was giving myself some kind of warning. She looked radiant. They looked perfect together. Now he wants her to go to America. And however much it hurts me to say it, to even think it, I reckon she must go. Otherwise, for the rest of her life … She's got the gift. You and Stephen know that.'

As he spoke, Angela became anxious in a new way. This was a new Tom to her and she was worried for him. He, none of the white people she knew, had ever spoken to her with such an open heart. She responded likewise. ‘Bwana, for the first time I truly understand how it is for you with Rebecca. I think that no man could love her more.'

‘Angela, I would love to have you for my second mama. But I'm scared.'

‘You think that if she goes to this America, perhaps she won't come back.'

‘Wajiru talked about two months. But over there lots of people are going to make a fuss of her. Singers can earn millions of shillings. And Rebecca is not an ordinary singer, not an ordinary anything.'

By now they were on the last lap of their return journey. Few words were exchanged now. Angela and Tom were sifting through their separate confusions, but they did so comforted by one new thing that had come to them on this journey. There was a unity, a bond, a sense of something shared without the old formality. A barrier had collapsed. They enjoyed the strong, real feeling of being on the same side. If trouble came each knew that the other would be there as an ally, a solid support.

When all the preparations for an early departure were finished and Tom had taken his problems down to the ocean, something in the evening breeze, the gentle, rhythmic splash of the waves on the white sand would not allow him to be despondent. He was lifted by a blind hope that, in the end, all would be well with Eddie, that he and Rebecca would come through stronger and sharing an even deeper love for each other. His conclusion, though, as he picked his way back to the house was that he would have to let this confusion resolve itself while he got on with doing the best he could with what was right there in front of his nose.

They boarded the ferry a little before six, just before dawn. During the ten minute crossing over the deep waters of the creek the light in the sky turned from an angry, fiery red to a pale, watery grey. Tom led the tight-knit convoy across the industrial part of the city. They would stay close all the way to the gates of the Muthaiga. Rollo was pleased to be trusted with driving the second vehicle and Bertie brought up the rear.

After one stop at Voi, the journey north continued incident free. Tom was relieved to join the heavy traffic on Uhuru Highway and the chaos of the city roads. As he took the roundabout at Haile Salasi Avenue, he glanced up Nairobi Hill. Eddie was up there somewhere amongst the tall buildings. He would see him soon and the thought of it excited him and scared him.

Lucy had been his companion on the way up. They had been good for each other. Periods of silence alternated with bouts of lively conversation. Tom had feared that on the hundreds of kilometres on straight roads flanked by long stretches of tedious bush country, locked together in a steel box, he would bore Lucy with his floating off into selfish bouts of introspection, pursuing negative trails of fears and anxieties. But, by firm discipline, they had headed off all unproductive and potentially dangerous reveries. They enjoyed reminiscing about their student days in Reading. Lucy opened up on her thoughts on her time with Tom and the family at Londiani.

‘Just four weeks! I'll never be the same again. What did that teacher up in Pembroke House say? “Africa finds you out”. I think of it as the big Mother Africa binding me with silken cords.'

‘So you like the place, then?'

‘I don't know. I don't know if I'd be strong enough to live here.'

As he shut down the engine of the Landy in the Muthaiga car park, Tom was catapulted back to the grim reality of the present. As each of them stepped down stiffly, Alex embraced them in a vigorous bear hug. This was not his father's usual style. Tom was afraid that it was a sign that he was about to tell them that Eddie was dead. He was relieved to hear the ‘serious but stable' routine again. And Alex was as organised as ever. Perhaps some of them would like a hot bath, a lie-down, something to eat. Room service was laid on.

He was delighted when both his sons insisted on going to the hospital before they ate, drank, did anything. They would all meet again at six in the club's main lounge. He would lead them to the house in Karen where they would spend the night.

Five minutes after an emotional reunion with Maura, six people sat around a bed in a private ward on the fourth floor of the Nairobi Hospital. It was the first time that his brothers had seen Eddie since he had been taken unconscious from the bloodstained hallway of Villa Simba. He was still unconscious. David Daniels tried to put Tom and Rollo into the picture.

‘It must be a bit strange for you two to come up to the hospital expecting to have a quiet time with young Eddie here and finding Carmen and me here. Strangers, yes, but as surgeon and nurse we need to be here. For a few minutes this not a hospital visit but a meeting place to discuss the most important event in your brother's life — so far. So, look all you want, but listen to what I'm saying. As a family you have the big decision here. I'll keep it short. This is it. I know exactly where the piece of metal is. I have to tell you that it is in a very dangerous area. I believe that it's just touching the spinal cord. If we did nothing,' he shrugged, ‘perhaps he would walk. But if it shifts, just a tiny fraction — pow! Disaster! That possibility tells me we must get in there.'

‘That's enough. Alex, Maura, I'm going downstairs to see a couple of patients. I hate to do this to you, but you four people have the decision. You know that.'

For Tom this situation was surreal, more like unreal, and even more like crazy. He wanted to stop or, at least, slow down the swift passing of the minutes, so that he could grasp what was going on. The blinds were drawn and in the half-light and at a distance of two metres there was a glow of the brilliantly white bedclothes. His brother looked the picture of gleaming health, eyes closed, sitting up on a stack of pillows, serene. The half smile on his lips, the hard outline of the muscular shoulders suggested a young man in control of events but somewhere out of sight. A tiny piece of steel or whatever lay waiting to bring him down, to snatch away his manly vigour, to turn his life, all their lives, upside down. Where could prayer make a difference? There had been such a lot of talk about this mysterious power in the last two days. Power? A bunch of words. It was something outside his range. Whatever the truth, his shame at being a non-prayer did not prevent him from closing his mind to the world for a few minutes and asking for mercy for his brother. A thousand school chapel services at Oundle had not prepared him for this. Back then he and most of his friends only switched on for the hymn singing, especially when the organ with its first few notes told them that they were into a real belter. What an amazing noise the voices of a few hundred uninhibited males could make when they were enjoying themselves. But alone in a place that he saw as far from holy, and desperate to do something that would help his brother, he just let the words tumble out. Who knows, he thought, perhaps in some other-worldly way Eddie had become aware of what he was up to and this accounted for the half smile.

Maura startled the boys but not Alex with her energy. This was no woman who, timid and fearful, was going to accept submissively the stuff that life was throwing at her family. If she could she would have plunged her fingers into her son's wound and fished around in the flesh until she could grab the disgusting invader and wrench it out. Failing that, she sat on the edge of her chair and looked steely-eyed at her menfolk.

‘Alex, Thomas, Rollo, there is no clean solution here. Logic — that wouldn't work even if we could use it. Facts — well, nobody ever knows them all …'

‘But, Maura love, decision is the name of this game. We've got to use all the facts. For this massive once in his life, we are his mind, his heart …'

‘Heart. That's the only word that counts here. I wish Mary was here to help us.'

Rollo groaned. ‘Mum, what good could Mary and all the Gilgil witches do to help us in this mess? We're talking real life here.'

‘And I'm listening. David says he wants to go in tonight, in two or three hours' time. Yes, we're talking real life here. You know I don't usually foist my ideas on you, but listen to this. Every last one of us on this planet has inside this clay suit of ours a divine spark, part of the great light. Mostly we don't think about it. I beg you for the sake of the darling boy on this bed to accept me on this. What do you say?'

There was a long pause, punctuated by the rise and fall of long, heavy breaths. The boys sat eyes closed and heads bowed. Alex locked his gaze with his wife's. His eyes had a glazed look until his face lit up in a warm smile. He reached out to touch both his sons on the shoulder.

‘Boys, I've just made a discovery. It's a sort of revelation. How many times have you heard me say: love, that's not practical? Well, the old scales have fallen away. Your mother's the practical one in this family and I thank God for you, love.'

Tom and Rollo exchanged bemused glances and smiled.

‘Do you trust me?' Her tone was anxious. When three heads nodded their readiness, she shifted in her chair and began. ‘Remember what I said just now, that we are in our essence sparks of divine light. Now all you have to do is concentrate and follow what I say and focus on Eddie, Eddie, Eddie!'

Her passion carried them through. At first Rollo was embarrassed at his own mother going at them like some preacher, but soon he became lost in the journey she led them on. She drew them down pathways where they began to experience emotions that they thought were new. They were old emotions made to feel new and pure by the scenes and pictures she created for them. The final destination was a place of light, an uncountable number of pinpricks. ‘We have come beyond. Different laws apply here. Miracles are expected. If we focus hard we see that this is where David Daniels and Edward McCall can come together.'

The time passed quickly and when she saw that David would be with them soon, she brought them gently out of their inner world. They returned to find their bodies heavy with a pleasant sense of lethargy. Rollo was first to stir. ‘We have to …'

Tom took over. ‘You know there's no choice, Dad?'

Alex's contribution was a nod, a shrug, a smile and a few tears.

Maura was pleased but asked one final question. ‘Even if things don't turn out the way we want?'

There was no response.

Midnight came and went. The minutes dragged wearily by. Tom faced the discomfort of random thought selection by a brain that was in freefall. At ten Alex took Rollo back to the club to check on how it was with Bertie and the others but more to give his son something to do. Back in Eddie's room Maura moved to the chair next to Tom.

‘What's this I hear about Rebecca going off with the Wajiru family?'

‘And where did that come from?'

‘Oh, Angela and I have our little chats.'

‘Yeah, well it's the old black and white stuff again. Why is it that most of the world doesn't seem to be bothered about it, but out here …?'

‘Tell me about you and Rebecca.'

‘Ma, you know all about that.'

‘But …'

‘Problem solved. It's all over. I ballsed it up. But I think it will be better for her this way. You should have seen her face when she came back to the farm with David Wajiru.'

‘Radiant? Of course she was. She'd just been singing, hadn't she? That always makes her face positively glow. And she wanted to come back, didn't she? I tell you, Thomas, you sometimes have the old Celtic gloom about you, just like your dad. Angela tells me that you helped to persuade her to go to America.' She looked up. ‘I can hear Rollo and your father coming. Listen. Rafaella and I have known about this for years. We can talk more later, but I'm sure of one thing. That beautiful girl loves … Mister Thomas McCall of Londiani. Believe me. Ask your grandmother.'

‘I will.' He paused. ‘All of a sudden I feel guilty. Me, the selfish prat. You give me hope and there's Eddie up there and God knows what's happening to him.'