Burning Embers

by Hannah Fielding

  These were serious revelations. Coral had always worried that Rafe and Cybil were carrying on an affair, despite Rafe claiming that her stepmother was just a friend. Another lie? No, it wasn’t possible for him to be so loving and tender while hiding this from her…Was it? Cybil had put it plainly enough now. When he’s had his fun, he walks away. Afterward, Rafe had drawn back from Coral — again. The seed of doubt pushed its sharp roots into her mind, and pain tore at Coral’s insides as the full impact of her stepmother’s words hit her. She pressed her hands to her heart as though to stop it from breaking. She felt empty and lost; worse still, she felt a fool. She leaned her head back onto the headboard and closed her eyes.

  Rafe had left for the coast immediately after dinner, as usual with no word about where he was going or when he would be back, which meant that Coral might have to wait days before being able to confront him. But confront him with what? She had known from the very beginning that Rafe was a womanizer, and he had told her himself very plainly that he was not the marrying type. He had also admitted to being Morgana’s lover, so whether he had one or ten mistresses should not make a difference. So why had he lied about Cybil? Only an hour ago, she had been determined to give herself to him without demanding anything in return. Only an hour ago, she had trusted him.

  Rafe had deceived her. He had always given the impression that he had been a good friend to her father, and a good friend doesn’t fornicate with his friend’s wife. In her heart of hearts, Coral had never given much credence to all the gossip she had heard about him, but now countless questions sprang up in her mind. Aluna had often alluded to a mystery surrounding his wife’s death, and according to her old yaha, Cybil and Rafe were somehow even the cause of her father’s death, even if only by their adultery and sapping his will to live. If Rafe was lying about an affair with Cybil, what else was he hiding about his past? Like a moth to a flame, she had been compelled even more by the aura of mystery that surrounded him, and now she was getting burned.

  His contradictions confounded her. He could have taken advantage of her the night before, but he had refrained. Only that morning had he not forcefully told her that she should think long and hard before giving herself to him? This was not the behavior of the cynical, heartless person Cybil had described. Was it a case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde? Some kind of dual personality seemed a little far-fetched. She sensed there was a missing part to the puzzle yet to find.

  * * *

  As soon as Rafe reached the Kongoni estate, he packed a bag and left for Nairobi. His chest felt tight — his life seemed to have suddenly taken a new course these last few days. He could hardly believe the magnitude of what was happening between Coral and him. Thankfully, he was catching a plane for Paris the next day. True it was a business trip that had been planned a few weeks ago, but it suited him to be running away — he could not trust himself with Coral if he remained near her any longer. She loved him. And by now she must have realized how he felt about her.

  On his way, he stopped off at the clinic and picked up Frank, whose car was at the garage having its brakes fixed. In the car, Rafe’s face was pale and stern, his usually laughing eyes dark, and his mouth taut with tension. They had been driving without a word for fifteen minutes when Frank broke the silence.

  “What’s up? Any problems?” he probed gently.

  Rafe shot his friend a fleeting glare. “Damn it, Frank, I nearly committed the irreparable last night.”

  The doctor smiled indulgently. “What are we talking about here? If you could put me in the picture a little more, I can tell you if you’re once again blowing things out of proportion.”

  “Coral. We were stranded in a cave during yesterday’s storm…” Rafe sighed.

  “Ah, something finally happened between the two of you. Are you telling me you made love to her?”

  “Well, yes and no, you know what I mean. We’ve been so often thrown together lately, and it’s all getting a little out of hand.”

  “I’ve certainly noticed the charged atmosphere when you’re both in the same room — the way you look at each other.”

  “Is it so obvious?”

  “Yes. You must be aware that she’s in love with you.”

  “I am. Of course I am. And I never intended for it to happen.”

  “And why is that?”

  “You know that I’m not the man for her, Frank. How can I love her the way she ought to be loved if I don’t even like myself? Coral needs a younger man without all the baggage I’m carrying. I can hardly cope with it myself, how can I expect her to put up with it? I love her too much for that.”

  “Nonsense! I’ve told you before, and I’m telling you again that you have amplified this whole business in your head. Stop blaming yourself. You have nothing to reproach yourself for. On the contrary, you’ve just been the victim of circumstance and gossip. You have always behaved honorably, and it’s high time you threw away this stick you’re beating yourself with and started to live.”

  Rafe gave a self-deprecating laugh. “You’re given one life, Frank, and already I’ve lived mine.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re in your prime; you should be rebuilding your life. Don’t you want to have children? I really don’t understand this determination not to let go of the past.”

  Rafe shook his head. “It would be unfair to Coral.”

  “For heaven’s sake, man, she’s a grown woman. Just because there’s a ten year gap between you, it doesn’t make her too young to decide about her own life.” Frank raised his hands in desperation.

  “Okay, Coral may be twenty-five, but she’s still pure, Frank.”

  “Rafe, she’s immature and unworldly where men are concerned, perhaps, and certainly in comparison to the women with whom you’ve surrounded yourself for the past few years, but she’s not that innocent.”

  “Even if I explained, she wouldn’t understand.” Rafe sighed, maneuvering the car round a dusty bend in the road. “She wouldn’t believe me anyhow.”

  “I think you’re selling her short. I’ve spoken to her. Coral is an intuitive and intelligent woman. She’s inexperienced, so she might have some immature reactions sometimes, and she’s as passionate as you are, but she’s not a fool. In fact, the two of you are pretty alike in spirit.”

  Rafe gave a slight smile as he recalled some of their skirmishes. “Yes, Coral is a very passionate woman. She has a good brain too. Watching her work the other day was an eye opener. Everything you’ve said is true…but I can’t help feeling guilty.”

  They drove silently for a while.

  “D’you remember the witch doctor that I angered a few years ago when I saved that Masai boy?”

  “Do you mean the King’s son?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about him?”

  “Well, he popped up today as we were visiting the Masai camp.”

  “What Masai camp?”

  “It’s a long story, but in short, because of the storm, we were forced to leave my plane in a field. This morning when we went back to it, a few Masai from the neighboring village had surrounded it. The King’s son was there and insisted we pay a visit to the village. Obviously, I couldn’t refuse. The shaman was there and recognized me. I’m not sure what poison he served up to Coral while I was with the King, but she asked me all sorts of questions after we left.”

  “And what did you tell her?”

  Rafe’s expression darkened; he wasn’t proud of himself. “Well, I fudged the answers as usual.”

  “You may be a shrewd businessman and usually a master in the affairs of the heart, but I must say that with Coral you’re clueless.” Frank shook his head.

  Rafe smiled ruefully. “You’re right, of course, but it’s because I’ve never wanted a woman as much as Coral. When I’m around her, I can’t think straight.”

  “You’re looking at the problem from the wrong angle. You’ve been wrong about this from the start. The earlier you come clean, the better it will be for both of you. I
t’s high time you faced reality and dealt with your past.”

  Rafe’s face seemed to brighten up a little. Maybe Frank was right, maybe after all there was light at the end of the tunnel. Occasionally, he had let his imagination wander and dreamed about what life would be like if he married Coral.

  “Y’know, Frank, I would give anything to spend the rest of my life with her.”

  “Well, then, what are you waiting for? As you said, we’re given one life, and you seem determined to let yours pass without giving yourself any chances.”

  “I know she loves me…but what if she doesn’t believe me?”

  “Listen, Rafe. Knowing you as I do and having been part of this whole tragedy from the beginning, I think it’s the only way forward. You may both be missing out on a very beautiful love story.”

  “D’you think she’ll agree to marry me?”

  “She may need time…you might both need time to adjust, but you’ll never know if you don’t ask her.”

  “Yes, I’ll need to let her know my intentions are honorable…” Rafe’s brows furrowed. “I need to step back and think about this before embarking on something we might both regret. Anyhow, I can’t do anything immediately. I’m leaving for Paris on business in the morning, and by the look of it, I might be away for a while.”

  “That might be a good thing. It could be that you’ll both cool off and that will be an end to the matter. But if not, this trip will still give you the opportunity to think things over and once and for all get rid of this misplaced guilt that has been smothering you for years.”

  Frank was right. It was time Rafe put some order in his life and stopped reliving the past. It was as if a load had been lifted off his shoulders.

  “Thanks, Frank. You’ve always been a good friend to me.”

  “The problem with you, old chap, is that you analyze too much. But then you let your passion get in the way of your strong sense of right and wrong, which is not altogether a bad thing…It makes you human instead of a robot.”

  Rafe brought Frank to the garage in Nairobi and asked to use the office phone. “Sorry, bwana, the phone lines are down because of yesterday’s storm, and it will be a while before they are fixed,” the office manager explained with an apologetic smile.

  Damn it! Rafe paced up and down, knowing he had to get a message to Coral. But maybe this is for the best, he thought. Once he got to Paris and had everything clear in his mind, he would send her a letter.

  CHAPTER TEN

  As soon as Coral returned to Mpingo, she went across to Whispering Palms. Cybil’s words had shaken her deeply, but there were still gaping holes left in the tapestry her stepmother had so cleverly woven. She could not believe that Rafe was as black as he had been painted, but she needed to get the truth out of him. He had also become an obsession; every fiber of her being ached for Rafe, and the memories of that tempestuous night she had spent with him haunted her. Coral didn’t know whether to love him or despise him. If she didn’t put an end to this situation somehow, she would go mad.

  When Coral arrived at Whispering Palms, the house was shuttered and closed. She walked through the garden and down to the plantation. Indian and African cutting laborers were tying up and girdling the sisal leaves before loading the bundles in light railway trucks to transport them to the decorticating factory. None of the workers were particularly talkative, busying themselves with their jobs. Finally, she managed to have a conversation with one of them and deduced that Rafe was still away, but no one knew when he would return.

  She went back the way she had come, through the garden. As Coral reached the house, she noticed that one of the shutters was open. Her breath caught in her throat, and the rapid beating of her heart thundered in her ears. He was there. Quickening her step, she had just started to run up the stairs of the veranda when Morgana appeared on the threshold. She wore a saffron-yellow caftan that clung to her curves like a snake’s slough, and the lush jet-black hair that cloaked her bare shoulders glistened in the sunlight. She wore no makeup save for a line of kohl around her large, dark eyes. She was beautiful and sexy — a female Rafe. Once again Coral had no difficulty imagining what they got up to in private, which was not the case when she looked at her cold stepmother.

  “Good morning, Miss Sinclair,” said the dancer, looking down at the newcomer. “Still pursuing him? Why don’t you give up? Haven’t you gotten the message yet?”

  “I have nothing to say to you. I need to speak to Rafe,” Coral said, doing her best to sound haughty.

  “Bad luck again. He’s not here.”

  “Where is he? Is he not back yet from Narok?”

  Morgana ignored Coral’s question. “There is a saying I am fond of which goes: ‘It is dangerous to awaken a lion, and the tiger’s tooth is sharp, but the most terrible of all terrors is the mania of man.’ Don’t try to awaken the wild beast in Rafe. Once unleashed, you will never be able to look back, and it will destroy you.”

  Morgana had come down the stairs slowly, and now she was only a foot away from her opponent. Coral could smell the heady scent that she wore, could clearly see the fervor silently burning her up; she seemed cool on the outside, but the air almost crackled with the storm that was raging through the Middle-Eastern woman. Coral mustered her courage and squared up to the fiery dancer.

  “Not so long ago, you tried to convince me that Rafe was some sort of weak and soulless prisoner, trapped in his own nightmare world. The person you are suddenly now describing sounds like a totally different man, don’t you think?” Coral said scornfully. “Neither is particularly flattering, and I’m sure that Rafe would be pretty offended by your views of him. Anyhow, why should I trust you? You’re just defending your territory like the other witch I’ve got at home. I feel sorry for Rafe. Honestly, with friends like you, who needs enemies?”

  Coral leaned forward and glared at Morgana. “Let me tell you something. I have gotten to know the man and, in some ways, this ‘beast’ you describe too. All of you can stand there spouting your theories and the stories you’d love me to believe about him. But don’t bank on it! I’m not afraid of you. I love Rafe and will never give him up. And there is a good chance he loves me too,” she taunted, lifting her head defiantly. “So put that in your hubble-bubble and smoke it!” Pushing past the dancer, she strode off.

  “Suit yourself,” Morgana shouted after her. “But remember that desire is something for which one always pays a high price.”

  When Coral got back to Mpingo, Aluna was waiting for her at the front door. The African woman looked as though the color had been drawn out of her face. “Where have you been all morning? You must never go out without telling me.”

  Coral sighed. “Oh, Aluna, when will you learn that I’m not your little malaika anymore? I’m a grown woman.”

  “Listen to me, child,” the yaha went on, her voice turned down to a mere whisper. “There is evil around you. You must listen to me and believe what old Aluna tells you.”

  “What is it now, Aluna? I’m really not in the mood for your cloak and dagger stories.”

  “Great noises under the ground have been heard. The tribal leader from the Mijikenda tribe has summoned you.” Aluna followed behind Coral as the younger woman went and threw herself down into a nearby chair on the veranda. “He has sent his messenger over to speak to you. The boy has something to show you. He will reveal to you the secret that will protect you from the evil one.”

  “What evil one are you talking about, Aluna? I really am tired of you seeing devils and evil ones behind every bush and in every shadow.”

  “Don’t talk this way, dear child — you will anger the spirits. If they are angry they will cease to protect you. Please, just this once, speak to the messenger. It is important.”

  “All right, Aluna, just this once. Is that quite understood?”

  “Yes, yes. Good child, good child.”

  “Where’s the messenger?”

  “He’s in the garden. I will call him.”

/>   “No, I don’t want him coming into the house. Take me to him.”

  They went into the garden. The messenger was standing next to a jacaranda tree. Coral recognized him as the young boy from the Masai village who had squatted next to the old shaman under the baobab tree. So, the old man was the tribe’s mishiriki, their witch doctor. Had he sent the boy? As she approached the youth, he smiled shyly and nodded his greeting. He handed her an old newspaper cutting and said something to Aluna that Coral did not understand.

  “He says if you want to learn more, you need to go to the mishiriki’s hut, which is not far from here.”

  “How come?” Coral looked distrusting. “The Masai village is miles away.”

  “No, no, he doesn’t live there. The mishiriki roams all over the bush. He is used to walking for miles,” answered Aluna.

  Coral was now tired and irritated at being ordered on such a wild goose chase. “Tell him he can keep his dirty newspaper cutting, and I’m not going with him to any huts or anywhere else.” As she spoke, there was a small breeze, and the scrap of paper flew out of her hands. She ran after it and picked it up, muttering under her breath. Her gaze fell on the photograph of a couple and the headlines above it that read: Mpingo Heiress Elopes with French Doctor. The writing was faint, almost illegible. She had another look at the photograph. There was something familiar in the woman’s smile, the curve of the eyebrows, the well-defined lips, but especially in the eyes. She broke into a cold sweat. Could they be? Yes, she was sure now: Rafe’s father and mother were gazing at her from the picture. Dear God, what on earth was a witch doctor in Kenya doing with a newspaper cutting that was almost forty years old? And what did Mpingo have to do with it?