The Perfect Happiness

by Santa Montefiore

  “And not a drop was spilled,” he replied.

  “Thank God! I imagine it’s very bad luck if it does!”

  “I can’t wait to see it.” Angelica felt inspired by the story that showed how with love anything was possible.

  “Shame your husband isn’t here with you.”

  Anna laughed lightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll lend her mine.”

  They all laughed with her, except for Angelica, who didn’t know how to respond. She sipped her grenadilla and tried to hide her blushes behind her hair.

  “And don’t forget to toast good old Professor Black!” Dan added merrily.

  26

  The best way to predict the future is to invent it.

  In Search of the Perfect Happiness

  That afternoon Jack and Angelica drove to Stellenbosch. Jack parked the car, and they wandered up the harmonious streets of Cape Dutch houses, beneath avenues of leafy plane trees. The white buildings gleamed in the dazzling sunshine, beneath an uninterrupted cerulean sky. They stopped at a café, sitting at a small round table on the pavement in the shade of a green-and-white umbrella.

  Their mood was buoyant after their morning in the fields. They chatted about their book, and Angelica bought a few more presents for Joe and Isabel. It hadn’t occurred to her to buy anything for Olivier. At four they drove to Warwick Wine Estate for tea. Nestled beneath the shadow of Simonsberg Mountain, Warwick was a charming old vineyard in the Cape Dutch tradition.

  They were met by James Dare, a laid-back Englishman with a hearty laugh and irrepressible sense of humor. They drank the famous Professor Black Sauvignon Blanc on the veranda as Jack and James discussed the quality of the grape. The sun threw a vibrant palette of reds and golds across Table Mountain, and fish eagles circled the dam in search of supper.

  Before they departed, Angelica requested a drink out of the famous marriage cup.

  “So you know the story?” said James.

  “Kat Scott told me at lunch. It’s a lovely tale.”

  “I’ll ask Belle to go and get it.” He called to his wife.

  “Is it bad luck to drink with a man who is not my husband?”

  “Not at all. It’s not just a symbol of love and faithfulness, but of good luck, too.”

  “Wonderful! We all need good luck,” she said.

  “How long are you staying?”

  “I leave tomorrow evening.” She pulled a face. “Don’t! I can’t bear it. I’ve had such a magical time. South Africa is the most beautiful country I’ve ever been to. The countryside is spectacular. I’ve never seen such magnificent sunsets. If it wasn’t for my children, I think I’d stay forever.” She avoided Jack’s eye, although she felt his gaze as surely as if it were sunshine.

  Belle brought out the marriage cup, a shiny chalice just as Kat had described.

  “How very clever!” Angelica exclaimed, taking it so she could get a closer look.

  The metal was intricately engraved and highly polished. She gave it to James, who turned the skirt upwards. “Professor Black Sauvignon Blanc 2008 vintage,” he said, pouring. “Right, Jack, you hold it towards you at an angle. Angelica, this is for you.” He poured a little into the movable cup. Angelica, dizzy from the wine she had already consumed, began to giggle nervously. She looked into Jack’s brown eyes and put her lips to the cup. Without taking their eyes off each other, they both drank. She didn’t know whether it was nerves or the alcohol, or the silent words she read behind his glasses, but she began to laugh, snorting through her nostrils so that her cup tipped and wine dribbled down her chin. This made her laugh all the more. Infected by her amusement, Jack and James joined in as Belle put her hands on her hips and shook her head.

  “I hope you’re not superstitious,” she said with a grin.

  “What will be, will be,” said Jack when he managed to control his mirth. “Spilled wine won’t make the slightest bit of difference.”

  “Oh dear! I’m so sorry,” Angelica apologized, wiping her chin. “Has that ever happened before?”

  “No,” James replied, chuckling. “Most people take it very seriously.”

  “Luckily, you’re not married,” said Belle. That made Angelica laugh all the more. If only they knew, she thought. If I wasn’t laughing so much, I’d cry.

  Jack and Angelica were still laughing in the car on the road back to Rosenbosch. It was now dark. The sky was almost purple, the valley lit by a round, pregnant moon. Stars shone bright as cut glass. They held hands, aware that this was their last night together.

  “Anna won’t be back until late.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “That we make love in the pagoda.”

  “Anna’s pagoda?”

  “It’s not hers. It’s ours.”

  “I’m not sure it’s the place to commit adultery.”

  He glanced at her, frowning. “You leave tomorrow. I don’t know when I’ll see you again. I want to have you tonight.”

  She smiled and squeezed his hand. “We’ll think of something.”

  They drove down the avenue of camphor trees. The lights were on in the house. Jack looked at his watch. It was seven-thirty.

  “I had hoped Anxious would have gone home by now,” he said.

  “You can send her home, can’t you?”

  “Of course. I just want to be alone with you.”

  They drew up and climbed out. He stood a moment, staring at the door, a frown lining his forehead.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. Nothing.” He shrugged off his doubts and opened the front door. “Anxious!” The house was silent. He glanced at Angelica, his face suddenly pale.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I don’t know. Get back into the car.”

  “I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “Do as I say.”

  But she followed him through the house to the terrace. As he opened the kitchen door Angelica saw blood on the tiles and caught her breath in horror.

  Before she could scream at the sight of the dead dogs, a gang of Africans swept onto them like birds of prey. They seemed to materialize from nowhere, wrapping grubby hands over their mouths and pointing guns to their temples. Jack didn’t struggle, knowing they would have no compunction about shooting them, too. The men whispered urgently to one another in a language she didn’t understand and marched them through the hall into the dining room. Angelica was so paralyzed with fear they had to drag her. There, in the corner, sat Anxious, her bright smile reduced to an unhappy line of fear. She raised her bloodshot eyes to Jack.

  “I’m sorry, Master.” She began to cry.

  “It’s not your fault, Anxious. Angelica, don’t struggle, and do everything they tell you to do. For God’s sake, don’t look at their faces.”

  He proceeded to speak to them in their own language. Pleading for their lives, she assumed. Telling them to take everything but their futures. Even in that moment of deepest terror, Angelica couldn’t help but be impressed.

  They bound their hands behind their backs and their feet together with ties they must have found in Jack’s bedroom, then ordered them to sit on the floor beside the dining room table, back to back.

  “Those are my favorite ties,” he hissed at Angelica.

  “God, Jack. How can you joke at a time like this?”

  “Fear.”

  “The dogs . . .”

  “Don’t.”

  “Are they going to kill us?”

  “Not if we do as they say and remain calm.”

  “I’m so frightened.”

  “We’re in this together, Angelica, and we’ll come out of this together. I won’t let them hurt you.” His voice was so full of conviction, she believed him.

  A gang member with bulging black eyes knelt beside Jack. “Where are your mobile phones?” he demanded in English. His breath smelled of spirits.

  “In my shirt pocket,” Jack replied calmly. He delved into Jack’s shirt and removed his phone.

&
nbsp; “Where’s the safe?”

  “We don’t have a safe.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “There’s cash in the study, top right drawer. We have nothing to hide.”

  “Everyone has a safe.”

  “We were robbed ten years ago. After that, we decided not to have a safe. Take what you want and go.”

  Bulging Eyes hissed at another gang member standing by the door and ordered him to go to the study to find the money. Angelica was petrified. She thought of her children and how much they still needed her. Remain calm, don’t cry, hold it together for Joe and Isabel. They won’t kill us. They’ll take everything valuable and leave.

  Bulging Eyes leaned over Jack. “We’re going to tear your house apart, and if we find a safe, I will personally cut your throat like an animal.”

  Angelica was too shocked to cry. She felt as weak and vulnerable as a little bird. Was it naïve to pray for help? Was it possible that someone might have seen them enter and called the police? She closed her eyes and prayed.

  “There’s no safe,” Jack repeated.

  Angelica opened her eyes and looked over at Anxious, the personification of her extraordinary name. She was somehow smaller than before, as if the air had been punched out of her. Her right cheek was beginning to bruise. Angelica sent a hasty prayer to God, requesting only that their lives be preserved. I’m not ready to leave my children, she pleaded. Or Olivier. Oh, Olivier, what have I done? Please God, forgive me. I promise from now on I’ll be good. Don’t let them separate me from my children, I beg of you. Let us live. Please God, let us live.

  A moment later the man appeared with a cash box and spoke to Bulging Eyes, who grew red with fury. “Is that all you have?” he spat. “A few thousand dollars?”

  “The rest is in a bank. We don’t keep much cash in the house. There’s silver in the pantry.”

  Another man rushed in with Anna’s jewelry box.

  “There must be more than this!”

  “My wife doesn’t wear jewelry.”

  Bulging Eyes turned his attention to Angelica and her bound hands hidden from view. He grabbed her arm, yanking it out from behind her back with such force she thought it would dislocate. “All women like jewelry.” He clearly thought she was Jack’s wife. He grabbed her fingers and noticed they were bare. She silently thanked Anita for making her hide her diamond rings in her wash bag, although, in the circumstances, she would happily give them up in exchange for their lives.

  “I’m going to ask your wife where the safe is. If she doesn’t tell me, I’m going to enjoy her.” He ran the barrel of his gun up her naked leg, hovering on her thigh. His grin was so lascivious she knew he meant it.

  Her heart stalled, but she felt Jack’s hot back against hers and was encouraged. “There is no safe,” she repeated bravely.

  Overcome with impatience, Bulging Eyes called out, “Somebody!” Somebody appeared at once—a tall, lanky African with cheekbones as sharp as polished granite. Bulging Eyes ordered him to watch the prisoners while he disappeared into the hall. Somebody jiggled from one foot to another, pointing the gun at Jack.

  “He’s not going to find a safe that isn’t there,” said Jack impatiently. “Help will arrive at any minute. Why don’t you take what you have and go before it’s too late?”

  “Sorry about the dogs,” Somebody replied. “I like dogs.”

  “Listen, Somebody. I don’t care about money or possessions. They are replaceable. I only care about my family. If I had a safe, I’d open it for you and give you everything inside. You have to believe me.”

  “The boss heard that you have a safe.”

  “Then it’s misinformation.”

  Somebody shrugged. “He’ll kill you. He’s killed before, many times. He enjoys it.”

  Angelica closed her eyes, drowning in a sense of helplessness.

  Bulging Eyes returned looking more livid than ever. In his hand he held a kettle. Kneeling down, he hissed into Jack’s ear. “If you don’t tell me where you hide your money, I’m going to boil your penis.” He plugged the kettle into the wall and turned his bloodshot eyes to Angelica. “Then I’m going to kill your wife like a pig.”

  Angelica’s head swam as she gazed into the abyss. “Oh God!”

  “Be calm!” Jack hissed. “You are a sensible man. Why would I risk my life and that of my wife and servant for something as unimportant as money and jewelry? I’ve told you, there is no safe.”

  He then began to talk in their language once again. A heated discussion followed as the kettle began to steam. Suddenly another man appeared in the door. A shout resounded from the front of the house like a bullet. Bulging Eyes stood up in alarm. He hurried into the hall a moment, then returned, his face taut with panic.

  “Where are the keys to your car?”

  “On the table in the hall. By the front door.” There was hope in Jack’s voice. Angelica clung to it like a rock climber to a rope.

  “I know you’re a liar!” he accused. His face looked like a swollen bladder about to burst. Pointing the gun at Jack, he fired.

  Angelica wasn’t aware of the gang leaving the house, piling into Jack’s car, and speeding down the drive. She heard Jack cry out, then saw the stream of blood making a pool around them. She froze in terror, her mind flooding with fear.

  “Jack!” she cried, desperately trying to wriggle her hands out of the tie. “Jack! Speak to me.” Jack began to laugh. “Oh, Jack! Please don’t die!” She shuffled around so that she could see him, all the while working on her hands.

  “They shot me in the shoulder.”

  “Are you in pain?”

  “Not really.” He looked at the puddle. “I’m ruining the rug.”

  “You’re going to be okay.”

  Anxious whimpered in the corner.

  “They cut the phone lines. No one will find us now,” she wailed.

  Finally, Angelica’s hands slipped through the tie. She didn’t feel the pain as they were forced through the material. She released her legs and set about doing the same for Jack.

  “Hold on, Jack. You’re going to be fine. I’m right here.” From somewhere she found a strength she didn’t know she had. “We’re going to get out of this, my darling. You’re going to be fine.” She pulled off her shirt and wrapped it around the wound, pulling it tightly to stave the blood flow. “I’m not going to let those bastards take you from me. I’ve just found you, and I intend to keep you.”

  She got up, staggered over to Anxious, and untied her hands and feet.

  “Go and get help, as quickly as you can!”

  Angelica’s voice was commanding, and Anxious gathered herself, grateful to be of use once more. She hurried out of the room, determined to raise the alarm.

  Angelica ran into the kitchen, past the pile of slaughtered dogs, to the telephone. As Anxious had informed her, the line was dead. For a moment she slumped over the sideboard, defeated. The dead dogs lay like sodden coats, reminding her of the gravity of their predicament, and she gave in to a wave of helplessness. This is not happening, she thought, closing her eyes. But it was happening, and she had to be strong for Jack. Pulling herself together, she grabbed some tea towels and returned to the dining room. As she pressed the towels into Jack’s shoulder, she noticed he had gone very pale.

  “Hang on, Jack. You’re going to be all right. Help is on its way.”

  “I have something to tell you, Sage.”

  “Nothing matters, darling. Don’t waste your energy.”

  “I’m dying.”

  “You’re not. You’re going to be okay.”

  “Listen to me, Angelica.” His tone was firm. She stopped talking. He held her naked arm with a blood-soaked hand and stared into her eyes. “I’ve been dying for years.”

  Her stomach lurched with his constant reference to his own mortality. “What are you talking about?”

  “I have lung cancer, Angelica.”

  Her hands began to tremble as she mopped his shoulder with
a tea towel. “I know. Scarlet told me. But you’re better now.”

  “No, I’m not.” He winced with pain as she put pressure on his torn flesh. “It came back. There was nothing more the doctors could do for me. I’m dying, Angelica, whether I die of a bullet to my shoulder or from the cancer in my lungs. The truth of the matter is, I have very little time to live. That is why I wanted to live it fully.”

  “It’s not true!” She began to shake with frustration. “I’m not going to listen to this! We need to get help! I’m not going to let you die.”

  “It doesn’t really matter one way or another. We’ve had fun, haven’t we?”

  “And we’ll have more fun. More sundowners. More rides across the veld. Our lives are just beginning.”

  But Jack shook his head forlornly. “No, my darling Sage. My life is ending.”

  “I won’t believe you! I’ve dreamed of growing old with you. I’ve fantasized about leaving Olivier for you, bringing the children out here, starting afresh with the man I love. I’ve dreamed of sacrificing everything for you. Don’t tell me you’re dying. I won’t believe you!”

  “You must. I didn’t want to tell you and spoil everything. But there’s a very good chance, by the size of this pool of blood, that I might die at any minute. So I want you to know the truth: that you have kept me going these last few months. That without your love and laughter I would have sunk into depression as my life slowly ebbed away.”