Later that evening, she searched through the pages matching the letters in the email to those in the book. When decoded, the message was rather cryptic – it simply said – accept an invitation, keep eyes and ears open.
What the hell did that mean? she wondered. The friendly office crowd were always suggesting she join them for lunch, a braai or the movies. Was it one of those invitations, or something more than that?
She didn’t have long to wait. The following afternoon Sonia bounced over to her desk and announced that Simon wanted to see her. Amie followed her through to his office and he rose to greet her. Her heart did a quick flip when he shook her hand, and then motioned for her to sit in the chair across from his desk.
“How have you settled in?” he asked.
“Fine. Thank you. Yes, OK.” Amie was unsure how much the Consul knew. Had he been briefed she was playing a double role, or did he think her a genuine import straight from the British Civil Service as per her new identity? Ken had never told her, which looking back seemed rather strange. She didn’t dare ask Simon if he knew who she really was, and there was no way of getting hold of Ken, so she just had to keep on playing the game.
“Happy with the apartment? And the car?”
“Yes, yes, it’s all fine.” Amie wondered when he was going to get to the point, she doubted he was that worried about how settled she was. None of the work so far had required a degree in rocket science, mostly checking forms to make sure they were filled in correctly. Amie found it mind numbingly boring but she was not going to admit that. The days passed one after the other, and the routine had helped her to heal a little, but now, looking at this man across the desk she had feelings that were decidedly unnerving. His smile was enough to turn her insides to water.
“Good, good.” He paused. “I see from the records that you are of a, shall we say, more mature age than many of the staff here, and as such quite the most suitable person to act as my partner at social functions. Would you be happy to undertake such assignments?”
Amie’s eyebrows shot up. He obviously didn’t imagine she’d refuse, he was her boss after all. What girl in her right mind would turn him down? He was drop-dead gorgeous. And, there were the perks of a free meal and free wine.
“Uh, well yes, I suppose ... but ...” her mind was flying in all directions.
“But what?”
“I was thinking of clothes actually. I’ve not brought anything suitable for formal occasions; I didn’t expect to need them in Africa.”
“Plenty of shops just down the road,” Simon waved his hand in the direction of the mall. “I’m sure you’ll find something.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Right that’s settled then. The first event is tonight, a cocktail affair at the City Hall. I’ll pick you up at six. Best you go and get kitted out for it this afternoon. Yeah?” Simon rose to his feet to show the interview was over.”
Amie paused for a moment at the door and turned back. “Thank you.” She hesitated, wondering if he was going to offer her any sort of allowance, but he was busy punching a number into his cell phone. She left the office and meandered back to her desk. It was only by luck that she still had the money she’d taken, stolen really, from Vivienne’s suitcase, for there was no way she’d be able to afford very much on what was left of her monthly salary. The British government was not over generous to its employees out in the field. She decided to book a hair appointment for the occasion but couldn’t find her cell phone in her bag – personal calls from the office were strictly forbidden. Damn she must have left it in the apartment. She’d just have to take a chance that one of the salons could fit her in this afternoon. But, she told herself this is the last time you leave it behind. Here in South Africa, everyone carried their phones at all times, you never knew when you might need to call for help.
She grabbed her bag and headed for the shops.
True to his word Simon’s car pulled up outside her block of flats at precisely six that evening. Before he had the chance to ring the bell, Amie was already on her way down in the lift. She caught her breath as she walked towards him; he really was easy on the eye. More than just attractive. She sucked in her tummy and greeted him with a shy smile.
“You look quite beautiful,” he said, walking round the car and opening the door for her. His eyes took in the knee length black dress that shimmered slightly under the street lights, the high-heeled black patent shoes and the silver lurex shawl she’d thrown over her shoulders. Amie knew she looked good; evidently, he thought so, too.
Simon said nothing until they were on the freeway that led to the city. “The reception tonight is for a visiting head of state from Ruanga. He’s here to discuss trade negotiations with South Africa. I guess we were invited to fill the hall so to speak. There’ll be several consulate representatives from other countries there too.”
“Do you often get invites for functions like this?” Amie was wondering how her meagre wardrobe would hold up if there was a string of invites from the Mayor.
“Maybe a couple of times a week,” Simon replied as he was waved into the car park at the rear of the city hall.
As soon as he turned off the ignition, he hopped out and opened the car door for Amie. She tilted her head to admire the gracious building with its green dome. From what she could see it was at least a hundred years old built in a classic neo-Baroque style.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Simon remarked, as if he was reading her thoughts. “The organ here is renowned for its remarkable sound and besides the main hall, it houses some of the city’s municipal offices, an art gallery and a natural science museum.”
“It is majestic,” Amie agreed.
“Urban legend has it that the architectural plans were ordered from London at the same time as those for the town hall in Toronto. Both cities wanted it modelled on the one in Belfast. Somewhere along the line, the plans got switched and sometime later the roof on the building in Toronto caved in under the weight of snow.”
“Are you serious?”
“As I said, it’s urban legend but hopefully it won’t snow too hard this evening.” He chuckled.
Amie smiled. Not only was he drop dead gorgeous, he also had a sense of humour. This must be spying at its best.
At the door Simon handed over their invites, announcing himself and a Miss Felicity Mansell, which reminded Amie, once again, of her new identity. A knot formed in the base of her stomach, but she had no time to think before she was swept into the room and introduced to several people. A few years ago, she would have smiled, said hello and promptly forgotten names and faces, but to her surprise the intense memory training at the Residence had sharpened her mind and she mentally filed away several dozen faces with their appropriate names and positions.
To her relief, Simon never left her side. He was a charming companion and involved her in the ‘polite’ interchanges that passes for cocktail party chatter. There was only one occasion when he excused himself briefly, and she saw him talking to a large, heavy set man on the far side of the room. They only exchanged a couple of sentences before moving apart, but neither looked happy to see the other, another fact Amie filed away at the back of her mind.
While there was a constant stream of waiters going around with plates of food, Amie refused them all. She found it hard enough to keep hold of her bag and her drink and shake hands with all the people she met without the added problem of holding a plate as well.
To her relief the reception was over before eight. Her new shoes were pinching her feet, and she was glad when Simon took her elbow and announced they were leaving.
As soon as they were back in the car, he asked her if she would join him for dinner. Since by now she was really hungry she agreed, she only hoped he wasn’t intending to take her back to his place. Too soon!
She needn’t have worried. He’d booked a table in one of the best restaurants on Florida Road and acted the perfect gentleman for the rest of the evening.
Th
e food was great, the wine excellent and Amie began to relax, until Simon began to question her about her past life. She’d practiced her cover story many times alone in the flat but never after drinking so much wine. She was afraid she would slip up and give herself away. She’d gone over and over in her mind the life that Felicity Mansell had led so far and hoped her answers sounded truthful and convincing.
After a bare minimum of tale-telling she deflected his questions back at him. His responses were equally brief. Born in England, sent to boarding school at the age of seven, public school, then on to Oxford University where he studied politics. He joined the Diplomatic Service as soon as he graduated and this was his first overseas posting as well.
“So, you see, not much excitement, all run of the mill stuff,” he concluded.
“What kind of training do they give you when you join the diplomatic service?” she asked, curious to know if he’d ever gone through the same experiences at the Residence.
“Mostly form filling and other boring rules and regulations and stuff, information about other countries and all that sort of thing,” he replied vaguely. “Nothing exciting like you see on the James Bond films,” he smiled. “There’s a big difference between the secret service and the civil service – miles apart.”
Amie nodded. “And this is the first African country you’ve visited?” She hoped she sounded casual.
“Yes, I flew straight in from London,” Simon picked up his wine glass.
Amie couldn’t be sure, but was there a slight hesitation there? Was this, in fact, the same man she had seen twice in Apatu: once at the funeral and then again at the embassy? If so, then he would know she was not who she was pretending to be. Did he know she was a spy? Was he also hiding the truth? There had only been a very brief pause before he’d answered her question and despite the pointers she’d had on body language and how to ‘read above, between and below the lines’ as Karen had called it, she couldn’t be sure.
The rest of the evening passed pleasantly, talking about books, music and films, innocuous subjects where Amie felt on more solid ground. Later, when Simon took her home, he saw her to the door of her apartment building, gallantly kissing her hand, and thanking her for a wonderful evening. Like a perfect gentleman he got back in his car and drove away only once she was safely inside.
Amie kicked off her shoes and boiled the kettle for her usual mug of coffee then powered up her laptop to find the message flag winking at her. She took her copy of War and Peace off the bookshelf – there was after all only one person who sent her emails, and she didn’t even know the real identity of her ‘friend.’
Hope you had a good evening. Look, listen and remember everyone Simon talks to, discover names or describe them. Accept all invites.
Amie squinted at the decoded message. Someone was watching her? Had they been following her? Was there another spy watching her spying? It was unsettling. She needed to stay very alert – at all times.
She sent a short reply. Nice evening. He talked briefly to one person, six-foot, broad, Slavic features. No name. She pressed the send button, then erased the emails.
Within minutes she received a reply. Accept all invites from Simon.
This time Amie didn’t bother to reply. Was she there to spy on Simon? Did they suspect him of something? She would do as they asked and wait and see. She prayed she would not find out anything bad, it would be very hard to turn him in.
16 NOT A ROMANTIC WEEKEND
The next couple of months flew by. Amie accompanied Simon to several receptions and dinners with the cream of Durban society. She was on first name terms with the Mayor, but learned not to stand too close to him, he was notorious for his wandering hands. The first time he fondled her bottom it was all she could do not to gasp, and when she told Simon about it afterwards, he roared with laughter.
Simon had also taken her to dinners, the movies and when summer arrived, to picnics on the beach and days out in the countryside. They were soon seen as an item and she was teased unmercifully by the rest of the office staff, Sonia in particular was very envious.
“Just my luck,” she grumbled. “I’ve tried for over a year to catch his eye and you waltz in and take over. It’s sickening.”
Amie wasn’t sure how much of a joke this was, or if Sonia really was upset. Still, there was nothing she could do about it so she played it down. The problem was Amie began to have feelings for Simon. She was convinced he was innocent, but she had no other choice than to continue reporting after their dates. Her dishonesty made her feel guilty, and the longer it went on the worse it got.
A couple of times Simon noticed her reticence and asked her about it, but she always managed to deflect his questions with some reason or other. To maintain her equilibrium, she reminded herself that her bosses in London thought there was some doubt about his actions, so that justified hers.
“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday this weekend,” he said one night over dinner.
“Uh, no, how did you find out?” Amie said the first thing that came into her head. It wasn’t her birthday, and it wouldn’t be for another two months, but in their wisdom those who had created her cover story, had changed it.
“From your records, of course,” Simon replied with a twinkle in his eye.
“Oh yes. Silly me,” murmured Amie.
“I know all the secrets about the people in the office,” he chuckled.
Moments like that made her job particularly difficult, it was nerve wracking wondering if her cover had been blown. If Simon was not to be trusted, not only did she have to appease the unseen powers in Britain, she needed to be wary of him as well. There was no one she could trust and a wave of loneliness swept over her so she missed Simon’s next words.
“So, are you excited?”
“Sorry, about what? I was lost there for a moment.”
“I could see that. This weekend, I’ve planned a special treat for you.”
“Oh, but you don’t ...”
Simon reached across the table and took her hand.
“Oh, but I do, Felicity. The last few months have been wonderful, and I hope you feel the same.”
Amie swallowed. They had been wonderful for her too. Simon was such great company and under normal circumstances she wouldn’t have hesitated to tell him, but now she just smiled and nodded.
“So, I’ve booked a long weekend away in a game lodge in the Kruger Park just for us. No diplomatic rubbish, just the two of us, somewhere quiet and dare I say it, romantic?”
Amie’s insides did a somersault. Up until now their relationship hadn’t progressed further than a few kisses on the doorstep, and those had been enough to turn her into a quivering jelly. A weekend away together threatened to take things to the next level. How was she going to cope with that?
“Speechless?” Simon took her silence as a good sign. “I’ve not been out to see the big five yet, and it’s high time I did. What do you say?”
“That’s fantastic, Simon. I don’t know what to say.”
“You smile is thanks enough. It’s all arranged, we leave on Thursday and we don’t have to be back in the office until Wednesday.”
Amie giggled like the silly little girl she pretended to be. “I’ll have to do a bit of shopping before then. Can I have tomorrow afternoon off?”
“Of course, you don’t even need to ask.”
That night Amie sent an urgent message to her great ‘friend’ Maddy in deepest, darkest Bolivia. Since she’d got set up with a laptop at home, she no longer received emails at work, so if there was no immediate reply, she would have to wait a day for a response. She hit send and waited, but the screen remained blank.
Her over-active imagination wreaked havoc with her dreams that night. Simon tying her to a tree and leaving her as bait for the animals. He was telling her how sorry he was that she’d spied on him and then he shot her. Next, he was crying in her arms and explaining that he’d been sent to spy on her, and then the whole picture swirled a
round until she woke up in a cold sweat in the early hours.
She got up, put the kettle on and went to check the computer. Maddy had replied.
Go. Take care. Act dumb. Report everything. Send back coordinates of locations.
Act dumb? That was easy. How dumb did they want her to be? Probably the blonde bimbo Simon would never see as a threat. But Amie wasn’t sure she wanted to play Mata Hari just yet, though goodness knows her knees went weak at the thought of it. If Simon took her to bed, which under the circumstances was highly likely, and if it was a wonderful experience, how would she feel? She sighed, one day at a time had become her new mantra.
They left Durban on Thursday just as the sun was coming up. Like most of South Africa’s roads the freeway was wide, straight and well maintained.
“A Land Rover, very smart.” Amie didn’t like to ask where it had come from. It wasn’t a hire vehicle she could tell that much.
“A kind friend,” Simon smiled.
“How long will it take to get there?” Act innocent, don’t admit you spent hours last night pouring over maps of the Kruger Park and committed much of it to memory.
“At least nine hours. Kruger is a huge park. The original was about the size of Wales, and it’s even larger now they’ve joined up with the Great Limpopo National Park in Mozambique. It also extends into Zimbabwe.”
So, you’ve been doing your homework as well, Amie thought, while I’m acting all innocent.
“Will we see the big five?” she asked.
“I hope so. Elephant, lion, buffalo, hippo, and leopard,” Simon quoted, looking pleased with himself.
Wrong, thought Amie. She couldn’t resist it. “I thought I’d read somewhere that the rhino was one of the big five?”
Simon looked uncertain. “Really? I don’t think so. I’m sure I’m right.”
Amie decided not to correct him. “How far is it to the park?” She leaned forward to look at the satnav pinned to the windscreen.
Amie in Africa Box Set 1 Page 83
