by P J Skinner
‘That’s the spirit. Before you go, I wanted to check something with you.’
‘What?’
‘The bank called this morning. They wanted to confirm that you’re expecting a transfer from Simbako. The thing is, it’s for twenty-five thousand dollars.’
Sam gasped. Alex owed her twelve and a half for her ten-week shift.
‘Wow! Alex said he’d paid me a bonus, but I wasn’t expecting that. How amazing.’
‘I’m sure you deserved it. Well done, darling.’
‘Thank you, Daddy. It’s a long story, but I promise to fill you in when I get home.’
‘Look after yourself.'
‘I will. See you both soon.’
Sam put down the phone. Twenty-five thousand dollars? How much is that in sterling? The day had brightened.
Despite herself, she trusted Fergus. Whatever had happened, this was one story that hadn’t ended. She was convinced of it. Perhaps he just needed time to digest his feelings for her. The manner of their parting had devastated her because he had seemed so distant. But she understood his reluctance to change the habits of a lifetime. A man like him was worth waiting for.
When Alex came back from the travel agents, she gave him a big hug.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘My father told me about the bonus.’
He was embarrassed. ‘I meant that to be a surprise.’
‘It is. The best surprise I’ve ever got.’
He beamed. ‘Let’s go to Fona.’
Chapter XXVI
Adanna was waiting for them in the reception of the hospital. Her face was pale and she was unsteady on her feet, but her expression radiated triumph and happiness. Alex helped her into the back seat where she curled up like a cat. Sam folded up a jacket and put it under Adanna’s head.
‘Everything okay?’ he said.
‘Perfect. Thank you.’
Despite stops for toilet breaks and lunch, they made good time to Fona and pulled into the compound in late afternoon. Fatimata was waiting on the veranda. She had dressed in white. It was as if a cloud had landed. There was an anguished cry from the back of the car. Adanna jumped out and ran to the house.
‘Is he gone?’
‘Yes, this morning at dawn. I’m so sorry.’
Adanna sat on the steps with her head in her hands. Sam came and sat beside her. She put an arm around her shoulders. ‘He is gone,’ said Adanna. ‘My father is dead.’
‘He was a good man and brave. I owed him my life,’ said Alex.
Fatimata had brought mourning outfits to the house for everyone. Adanna helped Sam to put on her red robe and headdress.
‘Today you will be part of the family,’ she said.
‘Your father was kind and treated me with respect,’ said Sam. ‘I’ll never forget him.’
***
After the funeral, Fatimata and the sowei gathered to discuss the election of the new Paramount Chief. They held the highest authority in the village besides the tribal elders who had the final say. They were entitled to put forward their own candidate. Women held equal rank as far as being Paramount Chief was concerned and, though rare, they sometimes held the position.
‘I think we should recommend Adanna,’ said Fatimata.
‘What are you saying? She can’t be Chief.’
‘And why not?’
‘Fatou, you know why not.’
‘You are wrong. She has been cleaned and is now worthy of our vote.’
‘When did this happen? Why were we not involved?’
‘She went to the hospital in Njahili.’
‘The hospital? Is she mad?’
‘The new hospital and she is quite sane. She is waiting outside if you wish to verify the operation.’
‘Call her in. I don’t believe it.’
‘Me neither. No-one survives hospital.’
Fatimata opened the door. Adanna was standing outside in loose robes tied at the middle. She moved to the centre of the room and undid the belt. The robes slid down her shoulder and she stood naked on the floor. The stitches stood out on her healing flesh. She turned so they could all see her. One woman knelt at her feet.
‘Open your legs,’ she hissed.
‘Please be careful. It’s still painful,’ said Adanna.
The woman peered at the wound and poked the stitches. Adanna flinched, but she did not complain.
The sowei stood up and addressed the group. ‘She is clean.’
Adanna pulled the sides of the robe back across her body and tied the belt in place.
‘Aunties, you know me. You knew my father. I will carry on the work he started. We have money now. Money for water and sewage pipes. Money for electricity. We can bring Fona into this century. Please recommend me as your candidate. I learned honesty from my father, who was in the British army where it is prized. I promise to spend the money fairly.’
‘What about the bondo?’
‘Soon it will not be our choice. The government plans to legislate for a ban on cleaning of young girls. We must move with the times. How many of you have difficulty urinating? Have any of your relatives died during childbirth? Are you suffering with fistulas? Why is this a good thing? We must move into the future and protect our children. I was cleaned in solidarity with the past, your past, but I want our girls to have a future free from pain.’
There was a sullen silence. Fatimata ushered Adanna out of the room. ‘Be strong. I’ll persuade them. It is your time.’
***
They held the Coronation Ceremony in the Paramount Chief’s compound. All the plastic and rubbish had been swept away and random benches placed in a semicircle in front of a platform made of old shipping pallets and covered in a tarpaulin. The throne had been removed from the ceremonial hut and placed on the platform. The whole village thronged the compound, sitting or standing depending on their seniority, waiting for the coronation. Sam and Alex sat to one side of the crowd, taking photographs and shaking hands with the locals.
There was the sound of a trumpet from the village band and the crowd parted to let a group of women enter in single file and stand in line below the platform. Sam felt a cold chill as she recognised the sowei women from the bondo. She screwed her eyes shut to push away the memories of the screaming and hung her head, considering running away. Alex noticed her discomfort.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Um, yes, those women in white, the sowei, they were about to kill me when Fatimata arrived.’
‘I think you’re safe now. They won’t touch you here.’ He reached out and squeezed her hand. She forced out a smile. Then the women sang and, despite herself, she raised her head again to listen to the rousing music. A local band did their best to keep up.
Their song silenced the crowd and a hush descended. A procession entered the compound main gate and approached the platform. Adanna sat in a sedan chair at its centre, an object of such an advanced age that its material was hanging from the sides and threatening to trip its bearers. They tottered under the weight of the chair and set it down on the ground with a thud, sweat soaking their ceremonial robes.
The dignitaries from the procession spread out onto the platform, sitting on either side of the throne. When they were all settled, Adanna stepped down from the sedan in a purple gown with blue stars and stood in front of the throne, turning to face the crowd. The tribal elders approached Adanna and one of them spoke.
‘Do you, Adanna Sesay, accept the will of the people and agree to be our next Paramount Chief?’
‘I do,’ she said. To Sam, it sounded like a marriage vow. Until death do us part.
The elders put a lion’s mane headdress on Adanna’s bare head with tresses made of claws. They presented her with a staff for one hand and a club for the other. The crowd roared its appreciation as Adanna stood in full regalia to acknowledge them.
‘She looks even more dangerous now,’ said Alex. ‘I wouldn’t like to get in her way.’
>
Sam felt proud for her friend, who had risked all to get what she wanted. It was hard to comprehend her sacrifice, but easy to appreciate it.
Tamba lurked on the left of the dais. He was smiling, but only just. He saw Sam and Alex and waved.
‘Poor old Tamba,’ said Alex. ‘No chance of Chiefdom for him now.’
‘I thought he wanted Adanna,’ said Sam.
‘Only to get power.’
Was that why Fergus wanted her? To get power over her? Did he leave because she was too free?
‘I think there was more to it,’ she said.
***
After the ceremony, Sam and Alex went back to the house to take off their robes and put on their everyday clothes. Alex poured himself a drink and sat on the veranda with his feet up. Sam packed her bag, pausing to hold up Hannah’s shorts and gaze at their tarty glory.
‘You girls have a lot to answer for,’ she said, before folding them up and putting them in her bag. If it wasn’t for those shorts … Well, who knows what might have happened. She glanced out of the window and was surprised to see Adanna approaching the house.
Sam ran downstairs to welcome her friend.
‘Chief Sesay, you are welcome. Come in.’
‘Honestly, Sam, could you be any more formal? Call me Adanna please.’
‘What is it like to be Chief? Are you excited?’
‘More than you can ever imagine. I have a mountain of ideas for this place.’
‘Alex tells me you’ll be doing your own mining here now.’
‘That’s true. I am sorry if you’ll lose your job, but I’m determined that we must take charge of our destiny in Fona. Mining is part of it. I’ve asked Tamba to train the other young men and women in the methods you have taught him.’
‘Tamba? Is that wise?’
‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, my father used to say. Anyway, perhaps if he has an important job, he won’t bother me. It’s high time he got married.’
‘And you? Are you planning on it?’
‘Not really. You?’
‘Hard to say. If I don’t meet the right person, I won’t. But how will I know?’
‘What about Fergus? I presumed something was going on there.’
‘It was, is, I’m not sure. Perhaps he panicked.’
‘He’ll be back. If a man ever looks at me the way he used to look at you, I might change my mind if I were you.’
‘I’ll keep you posted.’
‘So where should we start the mining operation?’
‘The terrace across the river from where we were working looks fantastic. You should send Tamba there.’
Adanna laughed, her whole body shaking with mirth.
‘We won’t be mining that terrace in a hurry.’
‘Why not? I’ve had a look at the geology and it’s the most prospective of them all.’
‘Where do you think we buried the rebel bodies?
<<<< 0 >>>>
THE PINK
ELEPHANTS
____________________________________
The Sam Harris Series
Book 4
PJ SKINNER
First edition
Copyright 2018 PJ Skinner
Dedicated to My Friends
Chapter I
Dirk Goosen surveyed the chaos on his desk with a sigh. Mess expands to fill the space available for it. He gathered files in a pile and put them on the floor out of sight. He buzzed for his personal assistant, Miriam, whom he shared with the chairman of Consolidated African Limited, Morné Van Rooyen.
‘Miriam, please help me out. I’m meeting Morné in fifteen minutes and the place is a tip. I haven’t had time to tidy it this week.’
Miriam rolled her eyes to heaven. Dirk’s desk was always inundated with files, and receipts and dirty coffee cups. She bustled around straightening the mountains of paper and removing the remains of various lunches eaten at his desk. He stood back against the wall getting in her way instead of moving. She tutted.
‘I won’t steal your precious papers. Why are these on the floor?’
Her sharp tone betrayed her irritation. Miriam did not suffer fools gladly. As an experienced executive secretary, she was efficient enough to look after both Dirk and Morné. Dirk shrugged and moved into the doorway.
He lit a cigarette and ran his hands through his salt and pepper thatch of hair watching her busy hands reducing the maelstrom to tidy piles. She picked up the files he had placed on the floor and marched over to the filing cabinet where she dropped the files in their rightful positions with a thud and banged the drawers shut.
‘Right, that’s better. I’ll call him,’ she said, and knocked on the door of Morné’s office which was on the opposite side of her room to Dirk’s. She popped her head around it and said, ‘he’s ready for you, sir.’
‘Thanks Miriam.’
Morné limped through Miriam’s office and entered Dirk’s now tidy sanctum. Dirk glanced up and smiled.
‘What’s up?’ said Morné.
‘Masaibu,’ said Dirk.
‘Again? That project is jinxed.’ Morné tugged at his ginger moustache. ‘What’s happened now?’
‘Jack Oosthuizen resigned while you were at Richard’s Bay,’ said Dirk.
‘No. What a pain! Do you want me to talk to him?’
Dirk shook his head. ‘He won’t talk. He’s burnt out with the constant firefighting.’
‘Do we have any candidates?’ said Morné.
‘We have lots of replacements, in theory, but no-one wants Masaibu on their resumé.’
‘I don’t either, but we’re stuck with it. Lumbono government won’t favour our other projects if we dump this one. Where can we find a manager?’
‘Someone desperate enough to take an impossible job?’ Dirk shrugged. ‘Damned if I know. I’ll call my friend Carol Downey in Australia. She’s an expert head-hunter. If there’s a candidate out there, she’ll find them.’
***
Sam Harris reclined in the rocking chair with the baby on her lap. She peered out at the starless night which hung over London and pondered her situation. Jack guzzled milk from a bottle which threatened to run out before his appetite did, his little face crimson with effort as he sucked the dregs from the bottom. The smell of the baby made her sleepy. Maybe I should make up more formula for him.
They both jumped as the phone rang on the table in front of them. She tried to grab the receiver and almost threw the baby onto the floor. The child wailed as the teat popped out of its mouth and hovered just out of reach. Sam manoeuvred the chair from side to side, inching it forward until she could reach the telephone and shove the bottle back in Jack’s mouth. She picked up the telephone.
‘Hello? Gloria?’ said Sam, assuming it was her nutty friend Gloria calling from Sierramar. She never remembered about the time difference between South America and London. But it wasn’t Gloria.
‘Hello, my name is Carol Downey. I’m calling from Sydney. What time is it there?’
‘It’s early. Three o’clock in the morning,’ said Sam.
‘Sorry, I’ve mixed up the time zones. Aren’t you in South America?’
‘No, I’m in London. Can you hang on a minute please?’
Jack’s bottle had finished and he wailed again in fury. Sam put the receiver on the table and heaved herself out of the rocking chair. She slipped into the bedroom and placed the baby on the mattress beside her sister. Jack burped up milk which trickled across to Hannah’s mouth. She wrinkled her nose and screwed up her face in disgust.
‘Yuck! What are you doing Sam?’ said Hannah. ‘Bored with being an auntie?’
‘It’s an emergency. Someone’s calling me about work. I’ll be back for Jack in a tick.’
Before Hannah could protest, Sam hurried out to the sitting room and picked up the receiver.
‘Hello? Carol? How can I help you?’ she said.
�
��Can I speak to your husband please?’
A job inquiry. She tried to damp down her annoyance at the presumption but failed.
‘My husband? You’ve got the wrong number. I’m not married.’
‘I’m looking for Sam Harris,’ said Carol, doubt in her voice.
‘You’ve found her.’
‘Oh, I see. I’m not sure, I mean…’
‘Oh, the baby? It’s not mine. My sister is visiting me. It’s her child.’
‘The baby? No, it’s not that, I’m sorry to have disturbed you.’
The woman hung up. Sam sank back into the rocking chair. So close and yet so far.
‘Who was it?’
Hannah stood in the doorway with Jack on her shoulder burping on a terry nappy.
‘A recruitment agent who wanted a man for a job.’
‘But you are the best man for any job.’
‘Thanks. I wish other people realised that.’ She reached out to Jack who grabbed her finger with his fat hand. His resemblance to Simon was so strong that her heart lurched. ‘It’s nineteen-ninety-three but even Jack’s got more chance of work in exploration than I have.’
Hannah tutted in sympathy but she didn’t comment, being accustomed to Sam’s travails in the industry.
‘I’m going back to bed. Thanks for feeding him.’
Sam rocked in the chair for a while before returning to the sofa bed. She had sacrificed her bedroom for Hannah and the baby, Simon’s baby. It was difficult to accept that Hannah had a child. A selfish being, the image of her as a mother clashed with Sam’s lifetime of experience of her sister’s self-centred ways. Even stranger was the concept of Simon as a father. She’d had a lucky escape, despite the circumstances.
She shook herself and dismissed the memories of Simon which threatened to make her nostalgic. He’d always been a bastard and now he was someone else’s bastard. She slipped under the sheets. It was a pity about the work, she needed the money.
To Sam’s surprise, Carol Downey rang again the next day.
‘Hello? Is that Sam?’
Sam recognised the South African accent.
