by Carl Hancock
Rebecca noticed that the tallest of the girls was looking uncomfortable, twisting the toe of her shoe into the earth and unwilling to look the visitors in the eye. ‘Esther, is there anything troubling you this morning? Sometimes my papa would see a glum face on me and tell me. “Rebecca, I think you better spit it out before you frighten your sisters”.’
Esther took the cue and a little speech came tumbling out. ‘We are so happy that you have come to see us. I want my father to tell you about our lovely colobus monkeys.’
Puzzled faces looked towards Moses who nodded thoughtfully, but Esther had not finished. ‘You are all famous people and you know how to do these things!’ Her sisters whispered to Esther, each into one ear with their shared message. ‘Oh, yes, I am forgetting. Please, Miss Rebecca, will you let us sing one song with you?’
The next hour passed quickly and a lot of ground was covered. The song was sung, the refreshments were enjoyed and there was talk and plans about the girls and their education. The colobus were not forgotten. The little party trooped a half a mile uphill to a large stand of tall trees. And that was the problem. The trees were being systematically hacked down. Moses explained. ‘We are not rich people, but many are worse off. The trees are like money. You clear the trees and you can have more pasture and use the trunks and the branches to make charcoal or build. Look, there they are. We think there is a family of twelve. We call them mbega.’ Half a dozen handsome creatures glided silkily across the tall tree-tops, flashes of black and white trailing bushy tails and having a lot of fun.
Before Daniel started his engine to drive them back to the main road, a plan had been made. Tom knew of suitable sites on or close to Londiani. Paul knew people in the Kenya Wildlife Service who could organise the tricky job of catching the colobus and transporting them the short distance to a new, safe home. In a month the operation would be finished. Rose’s last words to them as the car pulled away were, ‘Our girls will sleep in their beds tonight without tears. We thank God for you!’
Paul’s first words as they drove off were, ‘If this country had ten thousand families like that, we would begin to solve our problems.’
* * *
‘I feel unsettled.’ Rebecca and Tom had been apart for most of the afternoon, he down at the fields and she with her mother up at the house. ‘Thomas, when we were rehearsing in the Flamingo, and Toni wanted us to try some new things, Mary liked to say, “Papa, you love getting us out of the comfort zone.” I wasn’t really sure what she meant. Today I understand. And I am ashamed that I was blaming Paul and Daniel for the upsetting thoughts.’
‘Yeah, it’s been a bit like that with me. I suppose what I was feeling was a kind of shame, too. Stupid though. Why should I feel ashamed for living in this lovely place? For going to Pembroke and then Oundle? But these new vibrations, they upset you and the changes that have come into our lives …’
‘Tom, think of our two families. Who is the one who is enjoying these changes most?’
‘Mmn, eleven of us altogether. And the winner is … my grandmother!’
‘You sound surprised, but I think you are right. What do you like to say? Spot on! She is the one. And do you know why? Your Grampa Don. My papa says that she has been tested by the fires of deep grief. She is a very strong lady.’
Rebecca was folding the last of the bedsheets. Late afternoon was her favourite time of the day. Families were coming together at the end of work time and in an hour darkness would fall. This day it was a little different. It was hard to believe that it was only ten hours before when she was singing quietly to herself as she strode down the path between the village and Big House. She looked across at Tom and smiled weakly. He moved to wrap her shoulders in his arm and spoke in a low voice.
‘So, it’s the same with you! Like someone has knocked down the walls and we look out and see so many new things that were there all the time but they were hidden from us. Perhaps it was a kind of selfishness to hide from other people’s pain. That way we didn’t have to do anything to try to change what was going on.’
‘And no one can build those walls back up, can they? Paul is coming back up to Naivasha tomorrow but this time with his wife. He has to visit the hospital.
‘Paul, I’ve seen it loads of times. There is such a lot of work going on down in the fields today. We have to load up two big trucks ready for a night flight …’
‘But, Tom, we have never been inside. There are so many stories, but we must see for ourselves. Paul, Miriam, we want to come with you.’
* * *
The nurse in charge walked them ‘round. They came first to the maternity wards.
‘Two hundred babies a fortnight. And not all the women in the town come here to have their delivery. The ones who do have to bring their own soap, gauze gloves, little things. We do our best.’
By chance the matron from Pembroke House was doing part of her compulsory training in that maternity unit. If Patti Forrest, a well-qualified Australian nurse, wanted to work in her profession in Kenya, she had to build up six months practical experience in different places. The stated reason was that these foreigners trained in big city hospitals in Europe or America had to show that they were up to Kenya standards. In fact, it was a way of getting six months free labour from top class people.
Patti Forrest was coming to the end of her stint in Naivasha. She was a frustrated and angry lady.
‘Okay, there is very little money, so there are few proper medicines, no new, clean facilities. We lose a lot of babies here. So many young mothers, mostly the victims of the randy men in this town. Lots of them come in very excited, looking forward to having their very own toto. I hate to say it, but there is not an ounce of compassion in this unit. We treat our cows much better in Oz! You wouldn’t believe … “Your baby is dead. We need the bed … Where do you live? The matatus stop outside the gate … Come on, come on! Half an hour”.’
Half an hour later in the luxury of La Belle Inn the four of them chatted over coffee. It was a more solemn Paul than Tom had seen before.
‘Miriam and I have had our chances to leave. My brother has a practice in Boston. It would be so easy — big house, smart car, trips to the theatre, Florida for the winter break.’
‘But Paul would shrivel up over there. Oh, yes, the weather can get very cold, but it’s the shrivelling of the soul I’m talking about.’
‘Miriam’s right. My mind would be back here. And if it wasn’t, that would be even worse. I would have turned my back on our people. There’s no choice for us. Serena. Today it’s just a name but tomorrow …’
‘If I’m not careful, I’ll be into my Martin Luther King impersonation, but our mountain is harder in some ways. There’s a dream, but it’s covered over by a lot of wrong stuff.’
‘And Kenya’s a poor country.’
‘But, Rebecca, we don’t have to be.’ There was a pause while the waiter served the drinks. Paul did not finish what he was about to say. Tom took over.
‘We don’t think we have a choice either. We’ll try.’
Paul came ‘round to Tom. Tom stood up and the two men hugged. One of a small party of Americans at the next table leaned across. ‘You folks look so happy you make us believe that you must have just found the Lord Jesus.’ His tone was sarcastic and mocking.
Rebecca answered for them all. She leaned towards him and whispered. ‘Sir, you must be blessed with the gift of discernment. Why, we’ve known the Lord all our lives. We believe He is here with us right now. And you?’
The portly evangelist gave Rebecca a puzzled stare and turned back to his companions.
Rebecca’s companions were startled, too, surprised by the sharpness of her tone. Now that it was too late to draw back the words she felt ashamed by what she saw was a failure of charity and restraint. She was up in a second and ‘round to the table of the pastor. She touched him lightly on the shoulder and, as he turned, offered her hand.
‘I’m sorry. There was no need …’
‘I’m sorry, too.
I was foolish, even envious. I’ve been working for the Lord for thirty-five years. My name is Peter and I, well, I betray him too often. I quote the Bible to and sometimes at, people and forget to apply the wisdom to myself!’
After a few seconds silence, Rebecca returned to her seat and the pastor sat down. Paul’s response to watching this scene was the single word, ‘Wow!’
Tom was smiling broadly. ‘I told you who should really be standing for Nakuru South.’
There was restrained laughter all round, except from Rebecca who was gathering herself to make an announcement.
‘Thomas, I’m going to America, soon. Please, let me explain. Serena needs money. I know that is correct, Paul. Toni told me. He wants to make a record and give the money from it to Serena. Toni and Mary told me — and I feel embarrassed to say this — that there would be more money if I sang with them. Thomas, I knew you would say yes to Paul. If it had been no, this trip would not happen. It will not happen if you say no. I have worried a lot about this.’
Tom replied with a stunned ‘wow’ of his own before moving his chair close enough to Rebecca to allow him to put his arms around her. ”Becca, you must go.’ He broke into a smile. ‘I knew there would be sacrifices, but being without you, even for a few days, now that is a real sacrifice!’
Two days later their ways parted. Tom resolved to spend his days without Rebecca, working. There were long hours down the fields. He discovered what the boundaries were for the constituency and travelled to its every village and township, usually accompanied by Eddie or Rollo or both of them. They were excited by the prospect of an election and having a tiny part in it. Rollo wanted something more than just being the brother of a candidate.
‘I could be your agent or something. Save money that way.’
Eddie, not to be outdone, had his own job lined up. ‘You know those little vans with loudspeakers, with someone inside calling out, “Vote McCall, the candidate who cares!” or some such. I’m your man. Our drama teacher says I’ve got a mellifluous voice.’
They were parked on a rise above the A104 with a view across to Lake Elementaita and Lord Delamere’s Nose. They had just been looking at Kikopei village, learning that the cluster of shambas housed only a fraction of the population. There were shambas right up the hill, past the hot springs and the railway line.
‘Brothers of mine, you realise that all those folk up there are voters. To them I’m a mzungo. If three of us whiteys waltz into this place and ask them to put a cross down for Serena, they’ll think the colonial days are back and chuck us out. Anyway, the more I think about it, the more I see that Paul must be a bit bonkers to choose me. Without Rebecca I can’t see anyone voting for me. Perhaps by the time they announce the election he’ll have come to his senses.’
Chapter Twenty
ebecca had Mary for company on the journey to New York. Their base in the city was the Flamingo and after recording in the day there would be evening concerts. Rebecca was pleased about this. It helped to stop her thinking about home, worrying about Tom.
In ten days they had prepared and recorded half the sixteen songs Toni wanted on the new disc. Mary told Rebecca that she had never seen her father so excited about a musical work. Later that same day, as they were in the dressing rooms waiting to go on for their first number in a concert, Mary brought some more news.
‘Darling, I have to tell you. Julius Rubai is in the audience tonight.’
She looked in the mirror to see if there was a reaction from Rebecca. The eyes looked down and she reached out across the table for a comb, unnecessarily as Mary thought.
As she stepped out onto the stage, she was more nervous than usual, dreading that first eye contact. When it came she defended herself by launching her performance into a higher level of commitment and passion. On returning to the dressing room she vomited into the sink.
On the evening of the next concert, the first bunch of flowers was delivered to her backstage. The third night there were two bunches, one with a note attached, asking if he could come ‘round to see her after the show, ‘for old times sake’.
She waited for Mary to come around to wait for the first call to go out to join the band on stage. Alone, she was defenceless against another visit of the memory of his damp body pressing down on her. She sat rooted to her chair, eyes shut tight and praying hard. She talked with Mary, fighting to hold on to her self-control. Reluctantly and against Mary’s advice she decided to let him come ‘round.
‘I know, I know, Mary, but perhaps, if I let it happen, he’ll leave me alone. As long as you are with me, I think I can cope.’
‘Nothing could get me to leave this room while that hyena is here.’
‘Good evening, Kenya ladies!’ Mary’s stomach was already beginning to churn. ‘Great concert. Thought I’d drop in, say hello. I’m over on a business visit. Family stuff. Doing a bit of reading and studying as well. I’m going into politics.’ He paused, waiting for effect. ‘Now that’s a surprise …?’
Mary countered sharply. ‘Julius, you could go into deep-sea diving under the Arctic for all we care.’
‘Ah, but when I’m MP for Nakuru South, you’ll see things differently. Nakuru South, that’s your constituency, Rebecca. Can I count on your vote?’
The girls exchanged glances. Rebecca hoped she was not giving a hint of her surprise. She could not believe that Tom knew anything of Julius’s plans. She would tell him later. But perhaps Julius was lying. He had discovered Tom’s connection with Serena and wanted to upset, to be awkward in his usual way. Mary covered for her.
‘Don’t let us keep you. You must have a lot to do.’
‘How would you know that?’
‘Well, if you’ve got to try to persuade someone to actually vote for you.’
‘I can’t lose.’
‘Papa’s money!’
Julius was not so successful at hiding his rush of anger. ‘What do runaways like you know about our country anymore?’
‘Have the people of Nakuru South turned into idiots and no one bothered to tell us runaways?’
‘Shut up!’
Mary tutted and shook her head mockingly. ‘A politician losing his temper when a runaway, and a woman at that, tries to tell him the truth. Fancy that!’
Julius’s eyes blazed. He turned to leave but needed to have the last word. ‘It’s a dangerous game you are playing. Rebecca, one day, and I think it will be quite soon now, you will realise that you must be more careful about the company you keep.’
Mary waited until he was stepping outside into the normal buzz of excitement that follows a performance before delivering, in a stage whisper, her final word. ‘Rebecca, do we have any air freshener around here?’
Julius’s hesitation was slight but noticeable. He resisted the urge to turn and was gone.
It was a relief that Julius was not at the Flamingo the following night. Rebecca was not so lucky the next day. She was in a bookshop. She was caught up in her reading and, coming to the end of a row, bumped into another customer, a smiling Julius. He tried to pay for her book, as a ‘peace offering’. She refused but could not hold back his charm offensive. It continued on the pavement outside. He suggested that they take a drive somewhere.
‘Oh, yes, my car is parked around the corner. I know this town pretty well. We could go over to Liberty Island, see the lady with the lamp. Or Long Island. I have friends over there.’
Her reply was to hold out her left hand and flash her engagement ring at him. ‘I thought you knew. Well, you do now!’
‘Oh, yes, I’d heard. Sorry I can’t congratulate you. You know in your heart that it’s a mistake.’
‘Julius Rubai …’
‘That’s much better. Lovely to hear my name on your lips.’
‘You’re a bully and, worse still, a bore!’
‘Nothing you say can hurt my feelings.’
‘You disgust me. The first thing I’m going to do when I get back to the hotel is to get into a bath and wash off y
our foul stink …’
Too late to pull the words back.
‘Now that’s a picture. I mean to spend some time thinking about!’
She was making the situation worse. Holding down her fury and her frustration demanded a special effort, but she managed to say nothing more. She raised her arm and a taxi pulled in to whisk her off.
Safe inside the car, she let the tears flow. A strong and mounting terror seized her. This snake, this pig of a man might just succeed in blighting her life in a big way. Brazen in this foreign country, how much more ruthless could he be back home? She thought of Tom’s kidnapping two months before. Had Tom been allowed to escape then as a kind of warning? How easy for them to make sure next time, if that was what they wanted. Mysterious disappearances were no rare event in Kenya. Ordinary citizens had so little protection against well-paid, ruthless thugs. What a godless world where life was not sacred but cheap.
With her mind in freefall, she shocked herself with violent fantasies of her own. She pictured herself wildly stabbing the hateful mass of flesh, pulling a trigger and watching the ugly, leering grin changed to grovelling, pleading fear. These images were swept away abruptly when a very different thought flashed into her mind.
I cannot be Thomas’s wife. I must not!
Rebecca half stifled a scream, but she could not hold back the stream of sobs which caused her whole body to tremble.
With mounting alarm the driver watched the emotional breakdown taking place in his mirror. His golden rule was never to interfere in what happened in the business end of his cab, except in extreme circumstances. He blessed himself that in his twenty years behind the wheel, he had never been confronted by such a situation. In his agitation he was struggling to keep concentrated on the driving.
‘Oh God, have mercy! Show me some other way! Please, I beg you! Tell me what I must do!’
Then it got worse. To save Thomas … you must marry Julius!
‘Oh, Jesus, Lord, I would rather die.’
Total silence now in the back of the cab. No words, no trembling. Rebecca sat with her head bowed, rigid as a corpse.
