Zambezi Seduction (3 page)

One thing the South African would be made aware of at the outset: Kerry had no intention of allowing herself to be used as his personal doormat.

As her dad had reminded her, she was perfectly capable of looking after herself.

Kerry
longed
to tell her friends, sing Chad’s praises. But that nagging doubt refused to go away.

In the end she told no one.

That way, if it
did
turn into a disaster, she would be spared the embarrassment of ridicule.

TWO

Kerry had an inbuilt aversion to sleeping during flights. She worked aboard aircraft
and even when off-duty found it impossible to relax sufficiently for sleep to overtake her. Consequently, she was far from looking her best as she passed through customs and prepared to meet Chad Lindsay. She resisted the temptation to dive through the Ladies’ room door and attempt to camouflage her weariness. This was a holiday, she reminded herself – not a fashion shoot. Instead she hid her tired eyes behind dark glasses.

Ahead, the usual scenes of joyful reunion – kissing, hugging and back-slapping – were being played out. Kerry stopped and looked around. She’d had weeks to prepare for this moment, yet still felt nervous. A striking young woman, a tall leggy blonde, held up a sheet of paper. Where was Chad? He had assured her that he would
meet her. Surely there had been no mix up over dates?

The stream of arrivals thinned to a trickle. Kerry felt tense. It was just the start she didn’t want. Airports she associated with work, and she longed to be gone.
Something must have delayed him. Johannesburg, like any other major city, had its traffic problems.

The blonde woman walked towards her. Kerry saw her name written on the paper. She smiled from relief and curiosity. “Hi, I’m Kerry Stephens. I was expecting Chad.”

“Anna Grobler. Chad asked me to meet you. Some last minute business tied him up.”

Kerry was aware of the other woman giving her a detailed look-over. It was hardly unobtrusive and it made her feel uneasy. She sensed rivalry in the air – but that was ridiculous. Who was this drop-dead gorgeous woman? More importantly – what business had prevented Chad from meeting her?

They took a lift down to covered parking and Anna led Kerry to a late-model Mercedes. The boot swallowed up her baggage and she settled herself comfortably alongside the South African blonde. Kerry answered pleasantries about the flight as they pulled out into the heavy rush-hour traffic.

From her many stopovers in Johannesburg, Kerry knew the airport’s position in relation to the city. They headed west along the fringes of the northern suburbs, the wealthy side of town.

“Is it far?” she asked, noticing how dry the ground was, the grass tawny on the highway’s verges. The dry
Highveld
winter was over, but judging by the parched ground the first of the warm season’s thunderstorms had yet to arrive.

“Not long now,” Anna
Grobler said.

“You are Afrikaans speaking?” Kerry asked. She had noticed the slight hesitation between words, the odd mispronunciation. And of course there was Anna’s surname.

Anna Grobler took her eyes off the road for a second. And in that instant Kerry saw them flash with fire.

“
Ja
, for sure,” Anna said with a grin. “I’m a
Boer’s
. . . a farmer’s daughter from the sticks.”

Curiouser
and curiouser, thought Kerry. Just what was Anna’s relationship to Chad?

“Lucky you,” she said with genuine feeling. “I’m a countryside freak – into nature, wild places. What do you farm?
Crops? Livestock?”

“
Mealies
. . . maize. We have thousands of hectares in Northwest Province.”

“I’m envious.
An African farm – what a place to grow up!”

Anna steered the Mercedes off the highway and followed a road signposted
Kyalami. She pointed out the Grand Prix circuit and shortly afterwards turned onto a narrow dirt road. The car threw up a thick cloud of dust. Anna pressed a button, closing the windows. The road surface was ridged like a washboard, but the big car’s superb suspension ensured a smooth ride. They passed smallholdings and low-built homes set back from the road to escape the dust of passing vehicles. In one field stood jump-fences made of painted poles. Everywhere was dry, sun-baked. Kerry had seen the
veld
green; she knew the miraculous changes the summer thunderstorms would bring.

“Are you an artist?” Kerry probed.

“I
wish
. No, Chad and I are complete opposites. We met by accident – literally.” The memory provoked a chuckle. “Ask him about it sometime. We’re friends and I escort him to exhibitions and meetings with gallery owners. When he’s away I keep an eye on his place. That’s it – there’s nothing deeper. As I said, we don’t have a lot in common.”

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, Anna,” Kerry said, deciding on a sudden whim to go for broke, “but I sense that you don’t approve of what he and I are embarking upon.”

Anna’s hands tightened their grip on the steering wheel. Kerry wondered at her own boldness and braced herself for an angry retort.

“How you and Chad live your lives is your own business,” the Afrikaner girl said tersely. “Just don’t pin your hopes too high.”

“Hopes? What hopes?”

Clearly ruffled, Anna shifted position on the car’s seat.

“Let me put it this way . . . Chad is set in his ways. Self-centred – his work is everything. He has little time for socializing . . . but that’s not to say he has no time for women.” Anna paused to let her words sink in. “I’ve seen them move in, at receptions, exhibitions and parties. He’s a handsome guy with talent. He’s not short of money. Women find that an irresistible combination. He’s had plenty of girlfriends. Occasionally there are explicit messages on his answerphone.”

Kerry listened without interrupting. The revelat
ion came as no shock. She realized that her own first impressions of Chad Lindsay had been pretty accurate.

Anna
Grobler continued in a serious vein. “Chad uses women of a certain type – and I don’t include myself among them. I’m sure I don’t have to go into detail. They’re soon cast aside. He keeps the door to his heart firmly closed. Never talks of marriage.”

“I appreciate your frankness,” Kerry told her. “But you misjudge my motive for coming. I’m here to see something of Africa – especially its wildlife – with one who knows. No more, no less. If Chad thinks he can use me and discard me, he’s in for a big surprise.”

Anna brightened. “You must come out to Sterkfontein – the farm – for a
braai
. Tell me about the trip. Okay?”

Kerry consented without hesitation. Once before, she had attended a South African barbecue and had enjoyed the day.

“You’re sure it won’t cause problems – my being English?”

“
Agh, man . . .” Anna Grobler’s hand left the wheel and patted Kerry’s reassuringly. For a moment she was silent as if searching for the right words. “Of course we Afrikaners have had problems with the Brits in the past. Even today I know of some who refuse to speak your language.  You will be welcome at my home, have no fear about that.”

Kerry couldn’t help wondering why Anna was not accompanying Chad on the trip. Was their friendship really only platonic, as Anna claimed? Could the Afrikaner girl’s explanation be a cunning attempt to mask a deeper involvement? No doubt all would be revealed in time. But Kerry felt confused. She had viewed this adventure as something embodying herself and Chad only. Now, at the very start, a third person was included – not just anybody, but a beautiful Mercedes-driving local girl who knew Chad so much better than she did. She felt a pang of jealousy. But the folly of it hit her and she laughed it off. She, after all, was the one
making the trip with Chad.

She felt the car slow. Anna pointed. “That’s Chad’s place.”

The cottage stood beside a stand of towering blue gums, its exterior painted the khaki colour of the
veld
. It blended almost unnoticed with the landscape – a simple, modest structure, devoid of the opulence Kerry had been expecting, giving no clue that its owner was in the millionaire class.

Anna brought the car to a halt in the shade under the trees. She pointed to the empty carport.

“He’s not back yet. We’ll take in your things, have a coffee and wait.”

As she followed the South African to the cottage door, Kerry detected a hint of eucalyptus oil in the warm scented air – from fallen leaves crushed by the big car, she guessed. The weather was a pleasant contrast to the damp autumn she had left behind. Kerry breathed deeply, enjoying the freshness of the dry air. Her respiratory system felt cleansed, after the aircraft’s recycled air and the pollution around the airport.

They agreed that it was only proper for Chad to show Kerry around, and so they remained in the kitchen talking and drinking coffee. Several vehicles passed before Anna cocked her head.

“That’s him now. I recogni
ze the engine’s tone.”

They waited at the door. Chad swung his long legs out from the car and strode across to greet them.

Kerry was pleasantly shocked. Natural daylight enhanced his good points – which were many. He seemed taller with a stronger physique than she remembered. His hair was longer. Africa’s yellow light showed him off to advantage – so damned tanned and healthy looking. With her pale skin, she felt like an intruder from another world – which was true in a way. He kissed her cheek and appeared happy to see her. His physical presence reawakened romantic notions that had fleetingly entered her head through the build up to the holiday. She was quick to vanquish them now, mindful of Anna’s warning and of her own painful first meeting with this man.

Yet she could foresee that when an attractive, sexually-aware couple were hidden from the eyes and ears of the world for days on end anything could happen.

It promised to be an interesting three weeks.

***

While Anna made a phone call, reverting to her native Afrikaans, Chad showed Kerry over the cottage. It was of simple design: a large living room with the dining area off to one side, a kitchen containing a fridge freezer and gas stove that had seen better days. The bathroom held only bare essentials – shampoo, deodorant, shaving gel and toothbrush. Typical of the single male, Kerry thought. One of the three bedrooms served as his studio. At the door of the spare bedroom Chad made a short speech. It was hers – if she wanted it. As they were going to be together for some time, he felt it important that a relationship based on trust be established early. If she preferred, he’d take her to a hotel. Kerry answered that she was perfectly happy with the room. They were responsible adults and she was sure there would be no problems. Without mentioning it, she was glad the matter of sleeping arrangements had been cleared up early, for after her sleepless night on the aircraft she wanted to rest.

Her room was warm and comfortable with no unnecessary clutter
. Although the cottage was more modest in size and furnishings than Kerry had expected, she could understand why Chad had chosen to live here. It was off the beaten track, a tranquil haven nestling in the dappled light under the eucalyptus trees. Yet they were not far from the bright lights of Johannesburg. On the southern horizon rose the Witwatersrand – the ridge of white waters – source of the gold-bearing rock which had made the city the richest in Africa.

Such were Kerry’s thoughts as she undressed after excusing herself from Chad and Anna. While happy with Chad’s warm reception, Kerry still puzzled over Anna’s part in all this. The Afrikaner girl had shown no reaction when Chad had carried Kerry’s luggage into the spare room.

After showering away much of the travel weariness, Kerry donned a T-shirt and tracksuit pants, light cotton favourites. She lay on the bed. A soft breeze came through the open window which was guarded by an insect screen of fine mesh metal.

Kerry closed her eyes and tried to shut out the laughter coming from the living room. Turning onto her side, she was instantly on her guard. A hissing sound that she had been vaguely aware of grew suddenly louder. Something about it made her flesh creep. She felt the hairs on her neck stand on end. She sensed evil – yet how could it possibly be so in this quiet cottage? The final straw, which caused her to jack-knife up and scramble off the bed, was moving pressure against the side of her head. Movement cushioned by the thick pillow, but movement nonetheless.

She stood at the foot of the bed, heart racing. The hissing had ceased and for a moment doubt entered her mind. Had she imagined it? Flying – the changes in air pressure – sometimes affected the inner ear, impairing the body’s balance and judgement. Before rushing out to seek Chad’s help, she ought to double-check. A quick glance around the room failed to locate any object longer than a coat hanger.

Cautiously she approached the head of the bed. There! The pillow moved again. Kerry shrank back, wanting to run. No, not until she knew what was there. She stepped forward, bolder this time. Without hesitating she flicked the pillow off the bed. And
at once her worst fears were realized. She watched in horror as a snake’s tail disappeared over the edge of the bed.

Kerry burst into the lounge and found Anna and Chad over by the window, the blonde woman asking, “You saw Erica this morning?”

Without a word of apology for interrupting, Kerry cried out.

“Chad, there’s a snake in my room . . . under the bed
.” Her voice and expression reflected the trauma she felt.