Someone Wishes to Speak to You (32 page)

It took Mathew just under two hours to drive from the Kinlochs’ to Imire. He was impressed by his first sight of the Travers’ home, with its immaculately kept green lawns and flower beds. Norman Travers was there to greet Mathew as soon as he got out of the Land Rover, grasping his hand and welcoming him enthusiastically to his game farm. During the next hour and a half, while sipping glasses of iced lime juice under the delicate shade of an acacia tree, Travers told Mathew how he – like so many other veterans – had come out to Rhodesia after the war to start a new life, and in 1950 had bought Imire to farm maize and cattle.

‘I carried on like that for several years, but in the end I just got bored with commercial farming and decided that what I really wanted to do was to get involved with some of Rhodesia’s indigenous animals, so I branched out into game farming. I started off with a number of orphaned impala I had collected together, and then had added duiker, kudu, waterbuck and, more recently, Cape buffalo. What I would really like to do, if and when Rhodesia reaches a satisfactory
political settlement and things return to normal, is to establish a wildlife and rhino conservation sanctuary at Imire. We need to take urgent measures for the conservation of the black rhino – its population is in drastic decline throughout the African continent, particularly in Rhodesia.’

Throughout their conversation Mathew found his host to have an encyclopedic knowledge of the animal kingdom and, like so many people who have achieved a great deal in life, was reticent to talk too much about his area of expertise. Instead, Travers showed a great deal of interest in Mathew’s field work, past and present. During the course of Travers’ many questions, Mathew thought that he had seldom met a person, other than his mentor, Osman Hill, who had shown so much genuine interest in his work with primates. He also seemed very interested to hear about the natural history of the Kahuzi-Biega National Park, the culture of its local Pygmy population and how they interacted with the local African tribes.

When Jan arrived in her Hillman pick-up vehicle just after midday, she looked to Mathew as beautiful as he had ever seen her. Her face was illuminated by a smile that radiated happiness. After Travers greeted her and told her how inspiring and productive their conversation had been, Mathew took Jan’s hand and addressed her as formally as possible. The last thing that either of them wished to convey to Norman Travers was that there was anything more to their relationship than that they were both good friends of the Vaughan-Joneses, whom Travers knew well.

‘I must apologise for not having the time to give you a tour myself,’ said Travers as they had a quick lunch by the swimming pool. ‘I’ve arranged for one of the staff to take you round but before you go, I must show you our herd of Cape buffalo. I’m particularly proud of these animals – the government’s local veterinary department has certified that the herd are totally free from foot and mouth and TB. I’m
now in the process of building up the herd, as there’s already quite a good South African market for these farm-reared animals. As soon as the UN trade sanctions are lifted, I’m confident that there will be a European market too. The African bovids are considered to have lower cholesterol levels than European animals and as a healthy, disease-free herd, they should be in demand. Ah, here’s your guide, enjoy the tour and I’ll see you back here later.’

During Mathew and Jan’s tour of Imire, they were able to talk quite freely to one other and, out of sight of the driver, to hold hands. Apart from being able to see so many of Imire’s game species as if they were living totally free in their natural environment, they also saw a good cross-section of the local bird life which ranged from saddle-billed storks, crested cranes, spurwing geese and plum-coloured starlings, to flocks of the ubiquitous helmeted guineafowl.

On the drive back to the Travers’ spacious farmhouse, Mathew told Jan that Mariette had suggested he visit her home on the way to Inyanga, and they agreed it would be a delightful end to the day.

‘Jan, would you like to come and see Peter now?’ said Travers when they got out of the truck. Jan had said over lunch how much she’d enjoyed her first meeting with his tame sub-adult male cheetah, a graceful and affectionate wild animal. ‘Oh, yes please! I can’t wait to see him again . . . You should have seen him, Mathew, he was just like an overgrown kitten. He let me scratch him around his neck and stroke him along his back, and he purred louder than anything. I’ll never forget it.’ After a few minutes of Jan stroking Peter’s beautiful silky coat and talking softly to him, he began to purr loudly. She placed her arms around his neck. ‘Norman, would you take a photograph of Mathew and me with Peter so I can show it to Simon and Anna? I wish they could see him.’

After that, it was time to head for Mariette’s home at
Carnock Farm. It had been an unforgettable afternoon for Jan and Mathew, for reasons other than their host might have imagined.

Following Jan’s pick-up down to Macheke, Mathew reflected how very impressed he was with Norman Travers’ dedication to the cause of conservation, and how very much he hoped that his ambition to create a wildlife and rhino conservation sanctuary in the future would be realised. Just as the brilliant sun started to settle above a mountain range to the west of them, blossoming into one of the eastern district’s renowned sunsets, they arrived at the turn-off to Carnock Farm and their vehicles began to bump their way up the stony drive to the Smoelkes’ homestead. Mathew found Mariette to be an attractive but older version of Jan, rather plumper and a little dishevelled-looking in comparison to Jan’s neatly attired mannequin-like figure. Her barley sugar-coloured hair hung loosely over her shoulders, and her complexion illustrated its regular exposure to the sun while she assisted her husband on the farm.

‘It’s lovely to meet you, Mathew. Come through, make yourself comfortable,’ said Mariette, leading them on to a mosquito-netted veranda with large, comfortable seats. ‘I think it’s a little late for tea, don’t you? Shall we go for a sundowner instead? How about a cold bottle of Castle?’

‘I couldn’t imagine anything I would like more at this very moment. Thank you, Mariette.’

‘Now, Jan, shall we just have a drop of something to keep Mathew company?’ said Mariette as she poured two sizeable glasses of South African medium-dry sherry.

As they sipped their sundowners on the veranda, the conversation flowed easily and the situation seemed very natural, despite its strangeness. Although Mathew had every intention of leaving Carnock Farm for Inyanga by sunset, he was so happy to be in Jan’s company again and was so much enjoying sharing his thoughts with her, he felt reluctant to leave.

‘Look, it’s just about suppertime now – why don’t you stay a little longer and have a meal with us? It would be lovely to have you here.’ Mariette could see how much her sister was enjoying Mathew’s company and vice versa; she was correct in her assumption that it would take little persuasion on her part for him to stay. ‘Well, I really should get back . . . but why not? It’s a long way to drive on an empty stomach.’

‘That’s settled, then. Let me go and have a word with the cook-boy and see what he can rustle up for us.’ Mariette went inside the house, tactfully leaving the two of them alone on the veranda.

As soon as Mathew and Jan were alone, Mathew rushed to Jan and lifted her up into his arms, whereupon Jan burst into a flood of tears. As he kissed her moistened cheeks and lips, he felt the pent-up tension of her body start to dissolve in his firm embrace. ‘Please Mathew . . . don’t leave me yet, not until tomorrow. I’ve waited so long for us to be together.’ Jan’s sobs wracked her body, making it difficult for her to speak, but once she had managed to regain control of her emotions she said, ‘Don’t worry, Mariette will be only too happy to arrange a camp bed for you on the veranda. No one else will ever find out that you spent the night here, I promise – Mariette has known about the state of my marriage for a long time.’

‘If you’re sure Mariette won’t mind, of course I’ll stay. You know I want to be with you every minute that I can. But I must call Miles Kinloch, he’s probably already worried about me and I shouldn’t leave it any longer. I’ll tell him that I’m staying to attend a dinner party.’ Miles was indeed hugely relieved when he answered Mathew’s call; there had just been a radio bulletin with news of a terrorist alert in the Rusape area, so it was of the utmost importance for Mathew to stay off the road and remain where he was until the following morning.

The three of them shared a very convivial evening, full of laughter and high spirits. Mariette could see how very much in love her younger sister was with this similarly aged, handsome young Englishman, and how well matched they looked. At the same time, she was at a loss to think just how they could possibly ever manage to share a future together, for the odds were so much against her brother-in-law releasing his trophy wife to another mortal; especially to a native of Great Britain.

As the insurgency alert had been announced, Mariette was happy to ask her house-boy to make up a camp bed on the veranda for Mathew, although she was well aware that her sister had every intention of spending the night with him. So after supper, she joined them for an initial Cape brandy and then tactfully left the two of them alone, to finish a second nightcap that Jan had just poured for them both. As soon as Mariette returned to her bedroom, she dropped to her knees by the side of her matrimonial bed and, as a staunch member of the Dutch Reformed Church, she prayed for God’s forgiveness for facilitating such an infidelity as was no doubt about to take place under her roof. At the same time, she prayed that Jan and Mathew would have a future together, for she had seldom seen her sister look so happy.

10

A Diversity of Decisions

After a series of prolonged hugs, and a tearful goodbye, Mathew left Jan’s room and went to make his camp bed appear as if it had been slept in. He didn’t want Mariette’s house-boy to think that he had spent the night anywhere but on the veranda. As he negotiated his Land Rover down the farm’s rocky drive, his emotions were overwhelmed by leaving Jan. Although he had told her during their night together that he wanted more than anything else in the world to spend the rest of his life with her, he hated the fact that he now had to leave her to return to the misery of life with Major Paddy Bushney. For when they had been so reluctant to separate from each other’s arms, he had proposed marriage to her if she could ever manage to secure a divorce from her possessive and domineering husband.

They agreed that it was important they should meet again at Carnock Farm prior to Mathew’s flight home to see his parents in mid-September, in just over a month’s time. However, they both knew that a meeting would be dependent on Paddy Bushney being away from Salisbury on counter-insurgency operations, as well as Willie Smoelke being absent from his farm while serving with the RLI.

On Mathew’s arrival at his Inyanga base, Miles Kinloch came out to greet him, immediately followed by Huggins and Welensky, who did their customary barking and jumping up as soon as his feet touched the ground.

‘Welcome back, Mathew,’ said Miles, patting him on the shoulder. ‘I must say I was immensely relieved when you phoned last night to tell me that you’d decided to stay in Macheke. I’ve just had a call from Jock Whitton saying that there was quite a sizeable insurgency alert just after dark, at a farm north of Rusape.’

‘It sounds like I made the right decision. What happened?’ Mathew was thankful that Miles did not ask any questions about the supposed dinner party at the Smoelkes’ the previous evening.

‘The usual, awful sort of thing – they began by setting fire to the wooden outbuildings, then machine-gunned out each of farmhouse’s windows, before trying to set the building alight. Fortunately, the farmer and his family managed to avoid being hurt, very much thanks to the rapid response of the security forces. They managed to injure and capture two of the fleeing insurgents, although the third one managed to escape.’

With only four and a half weeks to go before Mathew’s trip to the UK, he had to move all his belongings to the Vaughan-Joneses’ house in Salisbury as he was due to start his tutorials at the university at the beginning of October, almost immediately after his return to Rhodesia. He was also anxious to carry out some final observations on his Appletreewick chacma baboons, as well as being keen to check on his Castle Beacon Stairs’ and vervet monkey groups. To return to the Vumba, he would have to gain the necessary permissions and permits from Jim Prior, who was responsible to the District Commissioner for the overall administration of that area of Manicaland, and from Major Baxter, the officer who had interviewed him on the eve of his departure from the Vumba.

Mathew needed to return to his research site so that he could complete some of his forthcoming tutorials, and also
because he had recently received an invitation from the editors of the highly respected scientific publication,
Conservation Biology
, to submit a paper regarding his observations on primate communication through facial images and eye flashes. As with most career academics, it was always important for Mathew to submit the results of his research findings in well peer-reviewed publications at regular intervals.

Ten days after Mathew had made contact with Jim Prior and the major, he received the most welcome news – he had been granted permission to revisit his old study site between the daylight hours of 9 a.m. and 4.30 p.m. providing that he agreed to be accompanied throughout his visit to Castle Beacon by two African askaris, and to return to Umtali by sunset. Although Mathew considered that the presence of two uniformed soldiers could well cause his habituated monkey groups to become more nervous, he was grateful to Jim Prior, who told him later that he had put pressure on an initially reluctant Major Baxter to issue the necessary permits to allow him to pass through the various road blocks. Permission for him to return to his study site had only been granted due to the considerable build-up of security forces in Umtali and the constant military presence within the Vumba Mountains.