Old Lovers Don't Die (6 page)

“That was such an action packed last night at the hospital, let’s just go through and check some of the things and make sure you’ve got everything. Now you have passport, yellow fever and vaccination certificates?”

“Yes mum – you went through all that last night and nothing has changed since then – provided the golden retriever didn’t steal them in the night.”

“Now, do not be cheeky,” said Renata smiling at him a way that was the opposite of admonition.

Christian looked at her and smiled. He would also miss having someone to tease, and with his mum there was usually a guaranteed response, which made it even greater fun. They walked together to where he had placed his two suitcases next to the front door. Sitting in the doorway next to them was Tia. Her head was on her paws and she looked at him disconsolately. Strangely, she always seemed to know when he was going away and parked herself next to the suitcases at the front door. Her big brown golden retriever eyes down cast but staring intently at Christian, willing him to take her with him and a perfectly still tail waiting to spring into action should she be invited along. Christian knelt down and scratched her behind the ears. She did not respond as she normally did by sitting up, tail wagging uncontrollably. Instead she just stared back at him, unmoving, knowing that he was leaving and would not be back for some time.

Tia had arrived in the house as a puppy when he was sixteen years old. His mother had told him she was the only puppy in the litter. Subsequently without any competition at her mother’s milk bar, Tia had rolled into their house looking more like a polar bear cub. Her subsequent antics and playfulness soon captured their hearts and she became part of the family. While his mother had undertaken her training, she had firmly become his dog.

“Don’t look at me that way with those big brown eyes,” Christian said holding both her ears, imagining she understood his every word, before giving her one final stroking and standing up. Tia did not move, her head remained on her paws and her eyes just followed him seemingly begging him not to leave.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

Christian reached and took hold of both the suitcases, determined not to look back but feeling she was still intently looking at him. As he took both the suitcases out to the car, out of the corner of his eye he could see that she had moved to the front window, her eyes still watching him intently.

As he half ran up the front steps not wanting to make eye contact with her, he recognized part of him did not want to leave her either.

“Okay, I’m already to go. Have you said goodbye to Tia?” Renata called out from her bedroom.

“Yes mum, I have.”

The drive to the airport was well-known to each of them. They had both done it a number of times together and usually chatted all the way. This time they hardly said more than a few words to each other. Christian could understand and feel his mother’s anxiety over this trip to Africa. She had not been concerned about his last trip to South Africa, until he had been kidnapped and held to ransom by a white supremacist organization. She in the end had been the key to their freedom, supplying the encrypted key to the genetic research that had eventually led to their release. Those memories obviously were still fresh in her mind.

“You sure you don’t want me to come in while you check-in.”

“No, I’ll be fine if you just drop me at the Qantas departure point, and that way we’ll both avoid any tears.”

Renata pulled up between two taxis and flipped the boot open. Then getting out of the car, she walked around to the boot. They then both lifted the suitcases out in silence. Stacking them on the sidewalk, Christian looked around for a trolley. As he did so, his mother tugged at his shirtsleeve.

“I want you to take this, honey. It’s US$500 that I’ve had and it might come in handy somewhere. I also joined you up to the frequent-flier lounge. Now give me a hug and I’m going to get back in the car and leave you because I don’t want you having your last image of your mum with tears in her eyes.”

“Thanks mum – you’re fantastic and I will e-mail and Skype you when I can.”

Renata turned and quickly closed the boot of the car and with one final wave, Christian watched her disappear down the exit ramp and into the traffic again.

Christian checked his bags in at the Qantas desk. His first stop was Singapore; he had decided just a stop rather than a stopover, even though he knew that would make it an extremely long flight. He was delighted therefore when the lady behind the Qantas check in counter looked him up and down and said,

“Dr. de Villiers, with your height I think we need to find you extra legroom in an emergency exit seat. Let me have a look and see what’s available.”

As she checked on the computer, Christian thought it would be a great start to the adventure to have at least a comfortable seat.

“I’m assuming as a doctor that you are happy to act in the event of an emergency.”

“Yes, of course,” Christian said trying to contain his smile.

“Well that’s done then and all the way through to London – so enjoy your trip. Is it business or pleasure?”

“A bit of both, I’m hoping,” said Christian.

As Christian walked into the frequent-flier lounge, it reminded him how different this was to travelling as a student. There was a bank of computers for businessmen, multiple coffee machines, tables with newspapers and magazines on them—more comfort than he had been used to in his backpacking days. At a quick glance, all the tables looked like they were occupied. Then he spotted one table, with a newspaper and half a cup of unfinished coffee on it; either someone had just left or if they had not, he hoped they wouldn’t mind him joining the table.

He put down his overnight bag next to the table and checked his iPhone. Three messages were blinking. Obviously one from his mother, and one from his good friend Greg, the other from Sophia. He knew his mum’s message would be: ‘
I’ll miss you, travel safely
’ so he started with Sophia’s.
‘Be confident. You never know who you will meet and have fun’, i
t read. He smiled thinking how much she had to know him and how much fun it was having a friend who had that much insight into you. He had thought on many an occasion, that it was a pity there was no chemistry between them as they had such a great friendship. However, they had talked about that many times trying to work out what it was that was missing. They both agreed that they ticked so many boxes for a relationship, but that whatever was missing was something that fell into that category of a
je ne sais quoi
. They had even talked about having a physical relationship to see whether that took the friendship to a new level, but decided that there was too much of a chance that it would ruin the friendship. In addition, he loved having her as a good friend too much with all the advice that she was able to provide. He was about to check Greg’s message when he heard someone approach from behind him.

“So you’d like to join me.”

Christian heard the voice behind him and turned to see that it belonged to a tall attractive woman in a business suit. You knew it was one of those suits which was expensive from its fashionable and tailored cut. Light grey fine wool with very thin pink stripes, shoulders slightly padded, a waist trimly tapered. Christian looked up and smiled.

“I hope you don’t mind me joining you; it appeared to be the only table that was half free.”

“Not at all. My name is Petrea Williams and you are...?” She held her hand out.

“Christian de Villiers.”

“Haven’t you left out something?” she said, looking down at his overnight bag and smiling.

Christian looked back at her somewhat puzzled.

“Isn’t it Dr. Christian de Villiers?”

“Yes it is.” Christian said smiling. “Sometimes I forget.”

Thinking that reply sounded very unworldly or falsely humble, Christian quickly added,

“I hope you don’t have an allergy to doctors.” He partly mumbled trying to remember Sophia’s advice about the need to be confident when it came to the meeting people, strange women in particular.

“No, no allergies, especially not to good-looking young doctors.”

Christian could feel Petrea looking at him as she finished her sentence to see what kind of response she received.

“A bit shy I see, Doctor de Villiers; I like that in a man.” Petrea continued, “I really am teasing you a little, and that’s unfair having only just met you, but it’s a technique that I learned which helps establish really quickly whether there is more behind flashing blue eyes that might be much more interesting. I do suspect in your case, from my quick analysis, that there is.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me asking, why is it that you need that technique at all?”

“Fair comment, there must be some surgical inclination in you, Doctor de Villiers, if you cut to the chase that quickly, and if you will forgive the pun. It is partly related to what I do and having to assess people very quickly to decide whether you can trust them or not. I work for the International Criminal Court and most of the people that we deal with through the prosecutor’s office cannot lie straight in bed at night, let alone tell the truth. Not being able to discern the truth can mean for very long days. I have just been back to visit my parents in New Zealand and I am on my way back to The Hague via London.”

“I have read about the International Criminal Court. It was set to prosecute individuals for crimes against humanity, war crimes, and genocide.”

“That’s correct. It was partly in response to the genocide in Rwanda and Serbia. Although we cannot go back and prosecute beyond the date that we were established, which was July 1, 2002. And then we can only get involved with those states or individuals who commit crimes against humanity and war crimes progression if the countries signed the original treaty which is known as the Rome Statute of the International Court.”

“Have many signed up to the original treaty?” said Christian, fascinated not only by such an attractive stranger’s flirty complements, but also by a stranger with an interesting occupation and history.

“One hundred twenty states which include nearly all of Europe and half of the countries in Africa. Most of South America, but not all, have ratified the treaty and therefore accepted our jurisdiction. In actual fact, countries like China and India have been very critical of the court.”

“And that’s just because they feel that their authority might be usurped?”

“That and they don’t want international publicity which they have no control over.”

Christian looked again at Petrea. When she talked, it was with both her eyes and hands. Her hands she used to round out the scenes that she was describing. There was no indiscriminate waving; her hand actions were directed and purposeful. Her hands were such a part of her articulation that it did not surprise him that they were beautifully manicured with nails that matched the pink stripes in her suit. At the end of some sentences, when her hands momentarily hesitated, her eyes would hold his for a second to ensure he understood what she was saying. Everything about her suggested an efficient prosecutor. Her blonde hair was cut short, not too short that it was masculine, but short enough to imply consideration had been given to practicality. High cheekbones suggested some kind of Scandinavian gene and a small straight nose added to the authority that she projected. Christian imagined she must be in her early thirties, ten years older than him.

“How did you end up then with the ICC?”

“Well, I finished my law degree in Auckland, and my dad, who owns a big shipping company, wanted me to do a business degree and work for him. Fortunately, I was offered a place in Cambridge reading international law.”

“And that smile means that you did not get on with your dad?”

“Let’s just say that my father is driven; he was an only child and an orphan. He immigrated to New Zealand with little in the world and no family. So that when I arrived on the scene, I was his first real biological link. He doted on me, which was only partly because I was very cute, and mostly because for the first time in his life, there was DNA to relate to other than his own. Therefore, letting go for him was extremely difficult. Knowing his history as I did, I didn’t want to hurt him so being offered a place at Cambridge allowed him to feel really proud of me and provided a genuine reason for me to be able to develop as my own person.”

“The ICC followed on from doing really well at Cambridge?”

“I did quite well, not a first but an upper second. However, during my time in Cambridge I went to The Hague and just hung out with the prosecutors. I got to know many people and decided that it was an area of law where outcomes were achievable. What impressed me was that the ICC was not just being seen to be a conscience, but a conscience in action. There was a real sense that people would be held accountable for their inhumane actions. I must have impressed someone as that is where I was offered a job.”

“And being attractive and good-looking would not have been a minus.” Christian said looking at her unblinkingly, surprised at his growing confidence.

“Well listen to you. And I picked you more for the shy and retiring type. But don’t get me wrong—courage and confidence is an intriguing mix.”