That morning he’d wandered about, looking at the boats and window shopping along the shops and boutiques on the Waterside. He bought an ice cream, it was cool and refreshing in the heat. He didn’t think too much about his quandary, his father, mother and Nick, or whatever they should all be called. Somehow the day passed.
Now, he was sitting by the harbour, sipping a whisky. A young busker with dreadlocks was strumming a guitar and singing “Blowin’ in the Wind.” He was quite good, making pleasant background music, not noisy. Adam absently walked over and dropped a twenty rand note into the singer’s hat. He nodded his thanks and started on “Tambourine Man.” Must know I’m a Dylan fan, Adam speculated.
A young woman came and sat at a table right next to him and he heard her order a Campari and soda. English, he registered, London accent.
The waiter poured the drink and managed to spill the soda. It splashed down onto the woman’s dress. It looked like a new holiday outfit. She jumped aside and her purse fell onto the ground, spilling money and credit cards. Adam got up to help her gather everything back again. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That’s very kind, thank you.”
Adam replied, “No reason to be sorry, it wasn’t your fault.” He’d never understood why English people always apologised for everything. He supposed that if she got run over by a car, she’d spend her dying breath apologising for being so clumsy.
It turned out that she was on a ten day holiday with a girlfriend. They came from Surrey, where she was a nurse at the local hospital, in the cancer ward. She was easy to talk to and he needed that. Some semblance of normality from an unknown third party. He told her his mother was a cancer specialist and had been for over thirty years. When he mentioned the hospice she was duly impressed and said all the right things. Before he knew it, he’d invited her for dinner at his hotel. The restaurant was quite good, he’d eaten there the previous evening. Old fashioned and comfy, not sparse and modern.
They had another drink then walked along to the hotel. The Waterfront was bustling with visitors coming down for the evening, to have dinner and enjoy the ambiance. Music blared out from the many restaurants which had live entertainment. Buskers and local bands were playing against each other so you couldn’t make out any tune at all. The head waiter found them a table by the window, where they could see the activity outside.
“Where’s your friend tonight, Lucy?”
“My friend? Oh, you mean Pam. She found a chap the first night we arrived and I’ve hardly seen her since. I suppose she’s out with him for dinner or whatever.”
Lucy was quite pretty in an English way, light brown hair, brown eyes in a round face with a snub nose. She gabbled away, talking so much that he could hardly get a word in. They had two bottles of wine with their dinner and afterwards they went up to his room.
As soon as they got through the door, she threw her arms around him, kissing him fiercely, trying to thrust her tongue down his throat. She pulled his sport shirt open so the buttons burst and pushed him onto the bed, unzipping his flies. She was like a wild animal, not concerned about his satisfaction or needs, only intent on satisfying her own sexual desire. There was no passion, no tenderness, only lust. He felt cheap, almost as he imagined a prostitute might feel. He decided to act like her. They didn’t make love, they had sex three times, in all sorts of positions, until he was completely exhausted. She was insatiable. In the end she was still sitting on top of him trying to climax one more time when his penis was shrunken and sore. He felt sickened, dirty and for some reason, guilty.
So that’s a one night stand. It could have been anybody who came along, he realised. She and Pam came here with only one thing in mind, sex. Or, maybe two things, booze and sex.
They fell asleep. The two bottles of wine finally kicked in. She woke him with her snoring at five o’clock in the morning and he went to shower himself clean and brush his teeth.
Adam sat on the balcony of his room, looking at the harbour in the pre-dawn gloom, thinking about things. Was Rachel’s affair with Nick like that? Like a one night stand? Just about sex, nothing else? No! He knew it wasn’t possible, his mother was loving, tender, considerate and affectionate, all the things that Lucy wasn’t. Nick must have been the same. It couldn’t have worked otherwise. Not to be together for a year, to live together and plan to marry. It had to be love. He had to be the product of love, the alternative didn’t bear thinking about.
And Hanny, there wasn’t a day went by when he didn’t show his love for his family. He wasn’t to blame for Adam’s predicament, neither was his mother, nor was Nick. He hadn’t even known about his son, he still didn’t know. Adam realised that he couldn’t blame anyone, it was one of those things and he had to get over it. Time would heal the wounds. It always did.
He thought about his feelings for Suzie. His passion had almost forced him to make love to her, love, not lust. He knew she was a special person, maybe she really did have feelings for him. Nick seemed to think so. It’s funny. I’ve got Nick’s blessing to woo his girlfriend. From father to son, he thought. But he knew it wasn’t like that. Nick wanted Suzie to be happy, he’d succeeded in that for ten years and now he realised that it was coming to an end. He had to go back over there soon to see her. To find out if it was something more than just a momentary need for physical contact. And I have to go over to introduce myself to my father, he realised.
Just before six in the morning, the golden orb of the sun climbed up over the horizon, flooding its precious light across the sky from the east, colouring the few scattered clouds with a crimson sheen and casting a brilliant reflection onto the calm waters of the harbour below. In the distance, a lonely fishing boat was making its way across the shining surface of the ocean, leaving a shallow, white-topped wake behind it. The seabirds’ chorus heralded the birth of a glorious new day. A new day for South Africa, and a new day for Adam Peterson.
Nothing really changes, he thought to himself. The important things stay the same. You just have to recognise them. Adam felt a sense of peace. He was starting to see clear, he was ready to go home. He went inside to wake Lucy up and get rid of her.
SEVENTY-FOUR
February, 2008
South Beach, Miami, Florida
Suzie opened the door for Adam and Rachel. “Adam, how great to see you.” She looked wonderful.
His heart flipped. She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She gave him a hug and a kiss, saw some lines of stress in his face and squeezed his hand.
“Suzie, you look marvellous. This is my mother, Rachel.”
“I’m so pleased to meet you. Adam told me a lot about you.” She hugged her too.
Adam was relieved at the reception. When his mother had told him that she had to come to see Nick with him, he’d panicked. What’s Nick going to think? We’re supposed to be doing a huge deal and suddenly my mother wants to meet him. Then he realised it had to be done, it was a kind of catharsis for everyone concerned. But how could he explain it on the telephone?
Hanny gave him an idea. “Tell Nick that your parents have put up part of the million dollars escrow money and I’d like to come over and meet the people we’re dealing with.”
“But…” Adam didn’t follow.
“Wait, son. Just before we’re due to go, tell him I’m not feeling up to it, but your mother would like to come in my stead. She has never been to Miami, so she’d love to use the ticket and come over and meet him. He can’t refuse a perfectly normal request like that.”
Nick was rather subdued on the phone. Adam told him he was coming over to close the two US customers and he’d like to come down to see him. He gave Hanny’s version of the story and Nick said he would be pleased to meet Adam’s father.
Two weeks before the trip, Adam called back and announced that his father wasn’t well, but his mother, Rachel, would love to visit Miami and meet Nick. Did he mind if she came in his place? “It’ll be good for her to get away from the cancer hospice, she works far too much.�
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At the thought of seeing Rachel again after all these years, Nick’s mind went into a nervous spin. Falteringly, he said, “I would love to meet her, but are you sure that she really wants to come all the way over here? It’s a very tiring journey.”
When Adam insisted that his mother was looking forward to the trip, Nick said, “Well, in that case, you have to come and stay here again. Suzie would be upset if you went to a hotel.”
Adam could hear him coughing at the other end of the line. “Are you all right, Nick? Mom and I don’t want to invade your home if you’re not up to it.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I’ll see you and Rachel next Thursday. Have a good trip. Suzie will make sure you’re comfortable when you get here.”
They had come via London again and Rachel didn’t approve of first class, so they were feeling a little jet-lagged. It took them over an hour to get through immigration and Nick hadn’t sent a limo this time, so they’d taken a taxi for the short run to South Beach. The Vietnamese driver dropped their luggage on the pavement. “Too hot to take them up.”
Adam paid him off with a very small tip and took their bags up in the elevator.
Suzie picked up his briefcase at the door. “Let me show you straight to your rooms and you can dump your stuff and clean up.”
Adam noticed that the door to the living room was closed. He supposed that Nick was busy with something. He carried the other bags downstairs. The two women were chattering away already, Rachel trying to hide her nervousness. She told Suzie she loved the beach that they’d seen from the taxi, white sand, turquoise sea. It was beautiful, just like Durban.
“Wait ‘til you see the view from the terrace, mother, it’s magnificent.”
Adam had the same room as previously. Suzie took Rachel to another guest room along the hall. Like Adam’s, the room looked across the beach to the sea, it seemed that every room in the apartment did. He waited while Suzie showed Rachel around.
Rachel’s mind was seething with emotions. She was about to meet the father of her son. The man she hadn’t seen for more than thirty years but had never managed to get out of her mind and her heart. She fussed nervously with her bags for a few moments then said, “I think we should see Nick now. We’ll clean up later. It’s not polite to keep people waiting.”
“Sure, let’s go up. He was sleeping before, so let’s be quiet.”
Rachel gave Adam an anxious look. He shrugged, as if to say, I don’t know.
Suzie led them back up the stairs and opened the door to the living room. Unlike Adam’s last visit, the blinds were half closed and the room was in semi-darkness. Nick was lying back on a settee, his feet up on an upholstered stool. He seemed to be dozing. The room was stiflingly warm, but he was wearing a flannel dressing gown and had a blanket across his legs. Several cushions had been piled up so that he could lie back against them.
Adam couldn’t hide his shock. Nick looked to have lost ten kilos or more since last month. His face, in the poor light, was haggard, deep shadows under his eyes, and the skin had a yellow sheen, as if he had jaundice. His thick hair was now almost completely white and had been cut quite short. He seemed smaller, wrapped up in the blankets, as if he’d shrunken since Adam had last seen him. He turned to look at his mother.
Rachel gasped, it was the last thing she could have imagined. For fifteen years she had cared for hundreds of terminal cancer patients with only a few months to live. Now, she was looking at the father of her son, the man she had never stopped loving, and she knew that he was one of those statistics. Nick was dying, and he didn’t have long.
She steeled herself and stepped forward into the pool of dim light. “Hello, Nick.”
Nick’s eyes opened. He peered into the semi gloom, tried to sit up and leaned up on his elbow. Standing in front of him he saw a lovely, twenty seven year old woman, shining auburn hair and a fair Irish complexion. She was wearing a blue halter top and shorts. “Hello, Rachel,” he said. “I’m sorry for being such an asshole. I love you so much.”
“Don’t be an idiot, Nick. I love you too, always have done.” She went forward and sat by him on the settee. She put her arms around him and kissed his head, his face, his lips, gently and lovingly, like a mother.
Adam stepped forward. “Hello, Nick.”
Before he could continue, his mother took his hand. “Adam’s our son, Nick. Your son.”
“I know, Rachel. I’ve known it for a while, there were lots of clues. He looks just like you. He’s great, a wonderful son. Come here, Adam.” He took his son’s hand as he sat on his other side. Despite the warmth of the room, Nick’s hands were freezing cold.
Suzie stood in amazement, tears flooding to her eyes. She had known nothing of this. She tried to cope with the revelation that Adam was Nick’s son, and yet, just a month ago, they had never, ever met. But it seemed that Nick had somehow known of his son’s existence. That’s why she’d been drawn to Adam, he was his father’s son. And Nick and Rachel were still in love, after all this time, more than thirty years. And they’d all found each other, just… Just in time, I suppose. Don’t fool yourself Suzie, Nick doesn’t have long, and Rachel knows it.
“I’ve got a lot to tell you both. Thirty-four years worth, to be exact.”
“And we’ve got a long story for you too, Nick.”
“Well we’d better get started, because I may not have that long. How about some tea, Suzie my darling?”
“English breakfast? Digestive biscuits?” Suzie went out with a cheeky grin on her face.
Adam watched her go, God she’s so beautiful.
Rachel and Nick watched Adam, then looked at each other. Life goes on.
“Promise me you’ll never leave me, Rachel.”
“I’ll never leave you Nick, that is if you don’t leave me again.” But Rachel knew he was going to leave her again in a short while, and this time for ever. She had to make the most of this, Hanny would understand. Her life had gone full circle. It was time to close out the circle.
“Let me tell you about Hanny, and Catrine, Greg and Birgitta. And Adam.” she said.
BOOK TWO
PART FIVE: 2008
SEVENTY-FIVE
Friday 25th April, 2008
Geneva, Switzerland
Adam stepped out of the conference room and called Mademoiselle Rousseau. “Could we have some fresh coffee please?
It had taken him an hour to relate an expurgated version of his story. It was now eleven-thirty and he looked beat. Reliving all the emotion of his and his parent’s lives, especially the last few months, had clearly taken a lot out of him.
The two women were in a state of shock. Jenny was thinking, This is just like an Agatha Christie novel. Nothing is as it seems. She had made several pages of notes in her jotting pad, but Adam’s story was much too long and complicated to record properly.
She said to Leticia. “Did you understand everything? What do you think of it all?”
“I think I understand everything he has told us. But I suppose we must wait for the rest of the story. This Angolan Clan is like Spain, nothing is ever finished.
Adam sat back down opposite them and the secretary brought more coffee. He poured himself a cup, with three sugars. The women refused, they were coffee’d out.
“Adam, we’re dreadfully sorry about Nick, you have all our sympathy. It seems that we’ve all lost close ones lately. When did you leave? How were things?” Jenny was trying to fit these events into the time frame of the last week.
“Nick, my dad that is, died two days ago. I just got back in time from Charlie’s funeral to be with him at the end. He didn’t want any treatment, no surgery, no chemo, just the morphine for the pain. I think finding Rachel again after all those years was all the medicine he wanted. The problem was that by the time he was diagnosed it was too late. He’d ignored it for too long and he knew it. It’s a bloody vicious disease, pancreatic cancer. Takes no prisoners.
“Apart from a week in Marc
h when she went home to see the family, my mom was with him for two months. They were so much in love. If it’s possible for anyone to die happy, then I suppose he did. It was wonderful to see them talking, catching up on two whole lifetimes apart. We both spoke to Hanny each week and he was so understanding about it. He insisted that Rachel should stay as long as she needed, for everybody’s sake. Then he came over to Miami at the beginning of April to be with them both. He’s a wonderful man. I guess I’ve been the luckiest guy in the world, I’ve had two super fathers. Don’t know what I did to deserve them.”
He stopped, took out a handkerchief, blew his nose and took a deep breath. “They’re both still there with Suzie. They get on just great together. I flew to London last night and on to Geneva early this morning.”
“I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine how painful it was for all of you.”
Leticia added her condolences. Then she paused. “But why did you come to Geneva when your father is just passed away?”
“Because he asked me to come. He told us all about his work in Portugal with Charlie and Olivier and about the Revolution of the Carnations. Everything about Angola, Henriques, the guerrilla wars, about Cunhal and his bodyguard, Alberto. I’ve never heard such a story in my entire life. It was like reading a book on African colonial history. Then he told us about the Angolan Clan and their thirty years of incredible business. And of course, he wanted me to take over from him, so I came straight here for the meeting.”
“Except it seems that there is no meeting. What’s happened to Laurent and Raffael?”
“I haven’t got a clue. I don’t know how to get in touch with Raffael, but I emailed Laurent to arrange for the completion and I got a reply saying he wanted to do it in Geneva this week and he’d confirm the details later. I naturally assumed that he’d be here for the meeting.”
[African Diamonds 01.0] The Angolan Clan Page 46
