Amie in Africa Box Set 1

by Lucinda E Clarke

  “Yes, it gets to you, I know that now,” replied Amie, but not in the way you think, she thought to herself. Glancing at Diana’s face she saw she hadn’t been very convincing. The older woman looked at her thoughtfully for a few moments and then gave her arm a squeeze.

  “Whatever it really is, you can rely on me to help – with anything, right?”

  “Yes, yes thank you,” Amie gulped.

  “Remember out here close friends are your family. Well, surrogate family,” Diana laughed.

  Inside Amie felt really disloyal. She had information that might affect them all, and she was keeping it to herself. Was it fair on all these people who had been so kind and so welcoming? Would her silence put everyone in danger? But if she talked and started a panic, she could disrupt everyone’s homes and work, maybe even their careers and their peace of mind.

  No, she told herself firmly, you have done the best you can, so leave it up to the experts. We had a brief scare a few months ago and it all blew over. If there was need for an evacuation, then the staff at the embassy were the right people to handle it. She turned to greet Anne and Kate who had come outside to cool off and chatter about the local tennis championships; fought with just as much fervour as Wimbledon.

  Amie, along with all the other dinner guests, would not have been as relaxed if they had seen Colonel Mbanzi and a host of other high-up officials pacing up and down in one of the well-appointed meeting rooms in the government offices of the Togodian Ministry of the Interior.

  Most of the men looked very worried indeed. On the large conference table that ran down the middle of the room, there were maps of Togodo and several aerial photographs. There was a large screen against the end wall and the group had just watched the raw footage shot by Amie a few days ago.

  “This must not get out, you understand!” screamed the colonel. “We can contain the rebels, they are just a bunch of ignorant peasants, Luebos and Tsaan!” he waved his arms in the air to show his disgust. “They don’t know how to fight, and they do not stand a chance against our army. Captain Garuba!”

  “Yes. Sir.” The captain snapped to attention.

  “I am putting you in charge in the field. I want these rebels stopped, stopped right now. Do you understand?”

  “Yes Colonel. But if I may …?”

  “You have a problem with that?” The colonel glowered at him.

  “Oh no sir, no Colonel. But my sources have indicated …” the captain looked down at the papers he was holding and continued, “… have indicated they are not simply a bunch of rebels. They are well armed and look to have had a lot of training. And, they have formed a considerable force. It seems the M’untus and the Luebos and the Tsaan have all joined together.”

  “Pah.” replied the colonel. “There is no way they have sufficient resources against our army. We are Kawas! Are you trying to tell me you are not up to the task?”

  “No Sir, no Colonel,” the captain replied miserably. “I just wanted to report what my informers have seen so you know the true picture.”

  “The only picture I want to see is their dead corpses rotting on the ground,” the colonel snapped. “If you wish me to tell the president you are not up to the job, then you must let me know. You can easily be replaced and I can find some other post for you!”

  The captain shuddered, he knew exactly what the colonel was implying. Slaughter every last rebel, or face his own death. He had tried, but the colonel wasn’t going to listen, he certainly wasn’t going to believe the rebel forces were well trained, well equipped, and there were thousands of them. While the president and the colonel were convinced the Togodian army was a match for any insurrection, the captain was not so sure. He tried once more.

  “Colonel, Sir,” he began, “do I have your permission to include the presidential troops for the assault? We are going to need every soldier we can muster, and we will need the surplus weapons and ammunition we have in the capital.”

  The colonel glared at him. “Togodo troops are the best trained in the world, and there is no way I am going to withdraw the troops guarding the president. You have your orders,” and with that, Colonel Mbanzi marched out of the room slamming the door behind him.

  Those left behind looked at the captain with either pity or contempt in their eyes. Each one of them was glad not to have been in the firing line; a literal certainty for the captain if he failed to carry out his orders. If the captain was worried, then just how big a problem was this unrest from the north? Did they have cause to worry for their own lives?

  Across town, Jonathon was worried about the progress, or rather lack of it, on the desalination project. For a while, things had moved quickly but then, almost without warning, work had slowed down and practically stopped. On several days the workers hadn’t turned up at all and when they finally ambled into the yard they refused to say where they’d been or why they’d been absent. He couldn’t get any sense from them.

  There was also a change in atmosphere. The men spent a lot of time whispering to each other, and was it his imagination or had they formed two distinct groups? Previously, they would all sit together at lunch time and at short breaks during the day. Now, one group gathered at one side of the yard and another made for the opposite end.

  Jonathon felt faintly uneasy as he looked out at the workers from the site office window. Something had changed, but he couldn’t put his finger on it and even asking Alfred, his fixer, threw no light on the situation.

  Amie, on the other hand, was not aware of any change in atmosphere in her domestic situation. The school carried on as normal, Pretty and William worked away as usual, and the shops that were patronized by the expatriate women that she went to most often, still served them all with a smile. The Club was an oasis of the first world in the midst of a third world city providing a home from home where everything ran as it should. The worst that ever seemed to happen was a shortage of tonic water, or late deliveries for the kitchen.

  Since Jonathon had not confided in Amie, she wasn’t aware of the heightened tension until she got chatting over coffee one morning with Kate, Anne and Diana on the veranda at the Club.

  “Look, I don’t want to worry you,” Diana began, “but there are rumours there’s trouble up north.”

  “From the other tribes?” asked Kate, looking a little alarmed.

  “Yes. It seems that for once the three northern tribes have banded together and are challenging the government.”

  “Who are all Kawa,” stated Amie.

  “Without exception. If you are not my tribe, then you are not my friend, and if you are not my friend then you must be my enemy. It’s not possible to stay neutral.” Diana had said something similar long ago and the truth of that hadn’t changed.

  Amie wondered if she should say anything about what she had seen, but decided to wait to hear what else Diana had to say.

  “So, what do you think the northern tribes want?” asked Kate gripping her coffee cup so tightly the coffee spilled over into her saucer.

  “Who can ever be sure in Africa?” replied Diana. “But I’ve heard they want a larger slice of the cake. There’s little or no development or modernization outside Apatu, it’s usually considered dangerous to make life more comfortable for the lesser tribes, because that would allow them to become a threat.”

  “Do you remember those engineers who were prospecting up north? You were talking to one, Diana, here after dinner that night. Didn’t they find uranium and other stuff, and if so, could that be the cause of the unrest?” It made sense to Amie.

  “You may well be right,” said Diana, thoughtfully. “I’d forgotten about that. Well, let’s hope it all blows over soon. The only reason I’m mentioning it to you at all, is the fact that while it’s bubbling under the surface, you may not even have noticed before now …”

  “Well, I certainly hadn’t,” Kate interrupted.

  “It takes time for an African to get revved up, so to speak, and these are very early days. It might die down. B
ut it’s good to be aware and on the alert. You might notice the young car guards getting bolder and more aggressive. Or, you might wait a lot longer to get served in the shops, or suddenly it’s almost impossible to get a hair appointment.”

  “That happened to you a while ago Anne, didn’t it? But it all seems fine now,” said Kate.

  “Yes,” Anne giggled nervously, “and then it all went back to normal. In fact, there was the excitement over the Trade Fair and all those foreign visitors …”

  “Not as many as they hoped, I daresay,” interrupted Diana.

  “No, well, it possibly doubled the number of us out here for a short while,” continued Anne. “I must admit it was nice to see a few more white faces in the streets. There are times when I feel really outnumbered, if you know what I mean.”

  Amie nodded, yes, she got that feeling sometimes as well.

  “Anyway, I do have a hair appointment in half an hour,” said Anne getting up, “so I will love and leave you.”

  Kate jumped up, too. “Amie are you busy this afternoon?”

  “No,” replied Amie, “well, not until I have to collect Angelina from school.”

  “Then let’s go to the Mall. I want you to help me choose a dress for the ball next month. Are you game?”

  “Yes, good idea. I may have a look as well. We can use my car,” said Amie.

  “Ah, good. I came in with Diana this morning, my car is in the shop,” replied Kate. “Charles was in a good mood last night and he gave me a wad of cash, so let’s go and blow it!”

  Everyone laughed. Diana said she had to go and chat with Leonard about the arrangements for the Tennis Club Dance the following week, so Amie and Kate set off in Amie’s car.

  “Can we just stop off near the market?” asked Kate. “I need to pick up a few bits and pieces, and if we go to the Mall first, most of the stall holders will have packed up.”

  “Sure,” replied Amie. “I could get some fruit at the same time. I forgot to give Pretty a shopping list this morning. Oh, and there’s that Indian shop on the corner near the market, we could also look for dresses there before we go to the Mall.”

  “Good idea, but let me phone Charles first and he can meet me at Brianwood to take me home.” Kate rummaged in her bag, but then remembered. “Drat, I left my cell on the hall table at home, can I borrow yours?”

  “Of course,” said Amie, handing it over.” Kate dialled her husband’s number, and waited for him to answer. She frowned, then looked at the screen.

  “Your battery’s flat,” she said, giving Amie her phone back.

  “Damn! I forgot to put it on charge last night,” said Amie. “I am sorry.”

  “Never mind, I’ll call him from the coffee shop when we get to the Mall. Let’s go buy clothes!”

  They drove along the main street, past the smart glass and chrome buildings occupied by the banks, and Amie parked in a side street close to the market. Immediately, a large group of small boys gathered round with their hands out. Was it Amie’s imagination, or did they seem more threatening than before? She shook off the feeling and bargained with them, giving them a small amount of money with the promise of more, if the car was in one piece when she returned.

  “The Indian women really know how to dress,” said Kate flicking through the clothes on the rails.

  “Yes, they do. Oh, look Kate, what do you think of this one?” Amie held up an electric blue chiffon evening gown.

  “It would suit you, why not try it on?” suggested Kate. “I like this lilac one and I think this pants suit is cool as well.” The small shop only had one changing room, so Amie continued to browse as Kate disappeared behind the curtain.

  “What do you think?” she asked, when she reappeared a few minutes later.

  Amie turned round to look at her. “It’s a bit long, but I can help you take it up,” she said. “Yes, it suits you Kate. I’d take it if I were you.” Kate swirled round, peering over her shoulder in the mirror.

  “It even makes me look quite slim,” she chortled. “Wait until Charles sees me in this.”

  But Charles was never going to see Kate in her new dress. At that moment there was a tremendous explosion, the noise battered Amie’s eardrums, the walls shuddered, and the roof collapsed. The last Amie saw of Kate was the surprised expression on her face, then she screamed in agony, as the masonry fell on top of her.

  12 NOWHERE TO RUN

  A wave of flying bricks stopped Amie in her tracks. She froze, horrified, unable to move, and then, as part of the wall behind her crumbled and buried her beneath the debris, everything went black.

  When she came to, she was covered in bricks and mortar. It took her several panicked minutes to fling the debris aside and surface. Through the cloud of dust, she peered around wildly for Kate, but she could see nothing but piles of stones, bricks, wooden beams, and here and there pieces of what had once been a collection of evening dresses.

  Amie struggled to stand up. She was dazed and couldn’t think properly. She swayed like a drunk as she battled to reach the pile of rubble where she’d last seen Kate. There was no sign of the Indian shop owner, nor her assistant. Then she became aware of more explosions from bombs dropping all around them. It sounded as if the whole city was under attack. What was left of the shop shook from the percussion blasts, causing Amie’s head to spin with loud ringing in both ears.

  This isn’t happening, thought Amie. What’s going on? Are we under attack? I must get to Kate. Frantically, she scrabbled forward on all fours and began pulling the bricks and stones from the huge pile of rubble. She worked in a mad frenzy, flinging the smaller stuff to one side until she had uncovered Kate’s hand and then an arm. Tentatively, not sure what she was really doing, she felt for her friend’s pulse, but there was nothing. She tried again, but there was still no sign of life. Kate must have been killed instantly.

  Amie fell back, tears streaming down her cheeks. This is a nightmare, she sobbed quietly. Then she thought about Jonathon, and Angelina, and Pretty. Were they all right? She had to get home as fast as she could.

  It took several minutes to orientate herself and inch her way to the street. She had to dig through several piles of collapsed walls, clambering over the remains of the metal shutters which had buckled and warped in the heat. Her hands and arms were bleeding and bruised, her nails ripped and raw from her frantic efforts to find Kate then clear a path to the street. She almost fell onto the pavement outside, and looking up she could see dozens of troops with guns. They were running in all directions, and firing indiscriminately, not stopping to line up a target before they let off another hailstorm of bullets. Amie ducked down behind what had once been a wooden door, which was now hanging precariously by one hinge, and put her hands over her head. Instinct told her to stay as still as possible and she curled herself up as small as she could. There were bodies sprawled in the roadway, heaps of building material amid clouds of dust, where only minutes ago the street had been crowded with people going about their everyday lives.

  Now the scene had changed to a war zone; carnage and destruction. Those who were lying wounded were screaming in pain. One man was sitting dazed, staring at the leg he held in his hands. It was his own leg, but it was no longer attached to his body and his blood was seeping into the dust. Only seconds later he collapsed, like a wounded marionette, into a heap. A small child was wailing for his mother, running this way and that, looking for anyone who would take him away from the devastation. A woman was sitting in the road keening for the dead child she was cradling in her arms. She looked up at the sky and screamed abuse at the ancestors who had failed to protect them.

  And still the soldiers ran wild, high on blood lust, whooping with delight as they found target after unprotected target upon which to exact their revenge. It went on and on and on. Besides the soldiers in the streets and the gunfire here in the main road, Amie could hear the sound of more explosions from neighbouring areas.

  It was probably only a few minutes, but it was hours
to Amie as she waited until the wave of soldiers had moved off down the street. Tentatively, she crept out from her hiding place and immediately a strong hand reached out and clutched at her wrist. She shrieked and jumped back from a teenage boy who was pleading with her to help him; half his face had been blown away.

  “No, no, I can’t,” shrieked Amie, “I must get away. Look for your family!” She felt awful as she half ran, half crawled down the street towards the side road where she’d left her car. Her knees were bleeding where she’d scraped them on the ground, her clothes were torn, and her head was pounding.

  Through some quirk of fate, while the Fiat was covered in dust, and severely dented from falling bricks and rocks, it was still there! Amie was amazed to find that for some inexplicable reason, she still had her handbag slung crossways over her shoulder. Crouching down, she fumbled inside for the car keys. Please let me drive away from here, back to Spring Glen, back home, she prayed. I must find out what has happened to Jonathon and to Angelina. And I must find Charles and tell him – how, am I going to do that – what did you say to people about death? How can I tell him I watched his wife die?

  It took the last of her strength to wrench the badly buckled door open, and her hands shook as she tried several times to insert the key in the ignition. The Fiat didn’t fire the first time and Amie howled in frustration as she turned the key again and again. Finally, the engine turned over and purred. Amie was too scared to look behind her as she crouched down in the seat and engaged first gear. She was not about to turn around, she would just drive straight ahead, away from the city, away from the bloodshed, away from the burning buildings. All she wanted to do was leave it all behind her. Get as far away as possible.

  She steered the car around the larger piles of rubble in the road, and ignored the smaller stones and bricks, the car jolted over the debris in its path. At the end of the street she just had time to swerve wildly to the other side of the road as a wall wobbled precariously and then collapsed into the road behind her. Everywhere she looked there was destruction. The revolution is here, she repeated to herself over and over again like a mantra, as she peered over the top of the steering wheel. The revolution is here. The revolution is here. Although there were no soldiers in sight the hair on her neck rose, her back shivered, imagining a bullet winging its way towards her from behind that would end her life at any second.