Then, after completing the river crossing and having transferred his discomfited guests to a safari Land Cruiser, he compounded his idiocy by failing to protect them, or at least by failing to protect Brian. Because, within just a few minutes, Brian had collected three very painful horsefly bites on his exposed left leg. When he then remarked on these and his injudicious choice of shorts rather than a pair of long trousers (or at least the left half of a pair of long trousers), Peter informed him that the horseflies always bit at this time of the morning – and then handed him an insect repellent spray. It was a case of closing the stable door after the horsefly had bolted.
It got worse. Peter had asked Brian and Sandra what their particular wildlife interests were, and had been informed that that they were catholic; anything was of interest – and especially birds. So when, for the next two hours, he drove his vehicle this way and that – with his eyes glued to the ground in search of lion tracks and oblivious of all birds and all other animals – Brian was beginning to feel that the guy needed counselling – or maybe sacking. The only birds that were seen were those spotted by his charges, which Peter then generally mis-identified – if one could understand what he was saying, that is. Because, as over dinner the previous evening, he favoured an indecipherable mumble as his means of communication and, against the noise of the Land Cruiser’s engine, this amounted to no communication at all.
In short, Peter was proving to be the complete antithesis of Super back at Jack’s, and the complete antithesis of super. He was a dead loss. (Although, having failed to find any lions, he did find an elephant carcass and an even smellier zebra carcass. So, with that earlier wasp demise, a bit of a dead specialist as well… )
Brian was happy when the drive was concluded and they were back across the river. Now he and his wife could have brunch and a verbal exchange of views about the inadequacies of their mad companion – to confirm what their exchange of glances had already revealed. Although first they would need to freshen up in their chalet. This was when they met Fred again. For he was standing at the entrance to their chalet with a mini cold-box in which there were two cold flannels. As he handed these to his returning guests he asked them how they had enjoyed their drive, and Brian and Sandra lied convincingly. For how could they do otherwise? It would have been just as discourteous as asking Fred whether his over-manager duties entailed anything other than his dispensing flannels (as this was the first time that Brian had seen him involved in any sort of activity whatsoever).
Well, brunch was a big improvement on the drive. Albeit, as Moss and Moleba had already left and Brian and Sandra were now the only lodge residents, it was a little over-generous. The buffet looked as though it had been prepared for a visiting football team, none of whose members had eaten for weeks. However, that was just the way they did things here: their way and, as Peter had demonstrated beyond doubt, rather strangely.
A post-brunch beer brought some much-needed sanity and an opportunity to observe some of the wildlife around the lodge, which proved significantly more rewarding than on the drive. There were bushbucks about, hornbills, pied crows, chattering queleas and, directly across the river from the lodge, a huge herd of zebra. They were ambling down to the river bank, drinking there and then ambling off again, threading their way through the throng of other zebra who were still arriving. It was spellbinding, and it would soon prove even more spellbinding when observed from the river. Because, for their second wildlife excursion of the day, Brian and Sandra had opted for a boat-ride rather than a car-drive, on the basis that Peter would have less opportunity to screw things up, and there might also be fewer horseflies about. Anyway, getting close to the zebra as they drank was marvellous and, to Peter’s credit, he did manage this in a professional and sensitive manner. He drove the boat gently and gingerly and he was circumspect in all his actions. But then, when he left the zebra to take his guests further downstream, he reverted to type. His credit was extinguished within minutes and soon after this it was in serious debit.
He startled birds with his incautious navigation, he stampeded some kudu on the bank of the river with the same careless progress, and then he saw a hippopotamus grazing on a little island in the river – and accelerated towards it to make it jump in the water! Not quite content with this degree of stupidity, he then approached an elephant crossing the river, and didn’t stop approaching it until it turned and retraced its steps. He had interfered with it – and with all his other victims – in a way that Brian and Sandra had never seen before and never wanted to see again. And by now, it was becoming difficult not to let their feelings be known. Sandra, in particular, used the stage-whisper technique to convey her opinions on Peter’s behaviour, and this seemed to have some effect. He certainly proceeded more slowly thereafter, and, by drifting down the river rather than charging down it, much more was seen. So onto the list went Senegal coucals, marabou storks, black crakes, white-crowned shrikes, brown-headed tchagras – and more kudu, more giraffe – and even two lions, who had presumably parked themselves at the side of the river to underline Peter’s failure to find them earlier in the day.
The boat-ride culminated with a sundowner in the middle of the river (with the boat wedged into a raft of vegetation) and then a silent return to the lodge, where Fred was waiting for them again with his cold box and his flannels. (This really did seem to be the extent of his duties). And then it was soon time for another “interesting” dinner…
However, before this there was an aperitif and a chat with Nelson, Ollie and Fred (but not Peter). And Brian noticed something: that they were all quite relaxed and surprisingly talkative. He remembered that they were similarly “looser” the previous evening – before the eating had got underway. It was only when they had sat down that it had all got so laboured and awkward. So, Brian was now developing a theory as to why this might have happened, and it concerned the formality surrounding the eating process and, in particular, the way in which this formality was inaugurated. Because, last night, as soon as the diners had taken their places at the table and before even the wine had been poured, a silence had descended to allow introductions to be made. Not introductions around the table, but introductions close to the table – of the evening’s catering staff. They were all lined up as if on parade, and then one by one they had been presented to the diners. First there was the chef, then the bread-maker(!) and then the waitress. And when this protocol had been concluded, the chef had then embarked on an explanation of the evening’s menu. It was all quite charming in a way, but at the same time its somewhat earnest character and its solemn delivery had set the mood for the meal. It appeared to have imbued it with a blend of stiffness and reserve from which it would never recover. Spontaneity and humour would never get a look in.
Well, was his theory valid and, if so, would it happen again tonight?
The answer seemed to be yes. More introductions of the catering staff and more pre-announcements of the menu were followed by another stodgy experience at the table. And for the next hour and a half, the only relief for Brian and Sandra came in the form of the tantalisingly evocative names of their two table companions (Captain and Nelson) and in their own contributions to the proceedings, some of which may have rather confused these companions. Such as Brian’s discourse on the use of technology…
It had started with an observation made by Sandra that one could divide the use of computers between their good use and their bad use, and that their good use was characterised by the saving of time whereas their bad use was characterised by the wasting of time. So, for example, booking holiday accommodation over the internet was easy, efficient – and good, whereas surfing the net for six hours just to see what came up was pointless, mindless – and distinctly bad. It was the difference, she explained, between using a computer as a tool and as a toy. And she was, of course, quite right, albeit somewhat careless. Because, by introducing this topic to the table, she had unwittingly provided her husband with a platform for a lecture. And whilst it star
ted innocently enough, with an observation about British dockers, it then went on – and on…
‘Did you know,’ he announced out of the blue, ‘that during the war, dockers in Britain were a bit of a problem?’
From the expression on their faces, Brian quickly gauged that Captain and Nelson did not. And he was also pretty confident that they might be unclear as to which war he was referring. So he tried again.
‘You see, during the Second World War, Britain was dependant on lots of imports. Food and armaments and all sorts of stuff. And, of course, as fast as we were bringing it in, Germany was trying to stop us – by sinking our ships. It was all very tricky. Ships had to be gathered into convoys – for safety – and even then some of them would still be sunk by U-boats.’
Captain and Nelson now seemed engaged, but that U-boat reference may well have confused them. Nevertheless, Brian pressed on quickly.
‘So you’d think, wouldn’t you, that the dockers in Britain would do their damndest to unload the ships as soon and as efficiently as they could… ’
At this point, Nelson nodded encouragingly.
‘… well, not a bit of it. They were more often lethargic in their work or just downright obstructive. And apparently, dockers in Glasgow, who loaded ships for the Arctic convoys to Russia, were so bloomin’ careless in their work that lots of stuff that arrived there was damaged, if indeed it hadn’t shifted around in high seas and sunk the ships that were carrying it.’
Well, despite that nod, Nelson was now clearly bemused – as was Captain. But Sandra had experience of her husband and must have gauged that it was now time to make an intervention.
‘Brian,’ she announced in her favourite intervening tone, ‘you’re confusing our hosts. But, as I’m sure you have a point, why don’t you make it – now?’
Brian knew that tone and responded immediately and, for him, rather succinctly.
‘My point is that dockers have always been a problem. If they weren’t disrupting things they were stealing things or just striking. Which is why technology was introduced so successfully, essentially to eliminate them as a feature of dockyards.’
‘You mean containerisation?’ confirmed Sandra.
‘Yes. If you have an element in society that has become insufferable, you try to get rid of it. And with technology – whether of the IT variety or otherwise – you now often can.’
‘Really,’ observed an apparently underwhelmed Sandra. ‘And is that it? Or is there more?’
‘Well yes. You see, I’m picking up your point about the good use of technology – as against the bad use.’
‘As in containerisation?’
‘No, not just containerisation. I mean… ’
‘Well, drug dealers are pretty insufferable,’ interrupted Sandra. ‘How would you use technology to eliminate them?’
Brian recognised the challenge being made here, as well as the bewilderment of the Botswanan audience at the table. And he chose to ignore the bewilderment and rise to the challenge.
‘Easy,’ he responded firmly. ‘As with the dockers, you remove their function.’
‘How?’
‘Well, drugs are all about getting good vibes, aren’t they? So you’d develop electronic helmets that deliver these good vibes to the brain directly – and eliminate the need for drugs and therefore the need for drug-dealers. And before you say that’s just too fanciful, think where they’ve already got to with Strictly Come Dancing and the X Factor. And that’s even without helmets… ’
‘Lawyers?’
‘Same approach. You just put together a sophisticated litigation programme, then you feed in all the facts of a case, and the programme delivers the verdict and an appropriate sentence – without all that perverting advocacy stuff. And it’d be similar for all the non-litigation stuff as well. Coz that’s mostly how they do it already. You know, standard contracts printed off a computer with names slotted in. It would be a doddle.’
‘Terrorists?’
‘Ah well… that’s more an educational solution than a technological one. You know, teaching them that it’s quite in order for people to hold views that don’t necessarily accord with your own, and that humility is not an affliction, but that rampant, ill-informed bigotry generally is. That sort of thing. Although, there again, I suppose you could develop a technologically sophisticated virus – which just went after degenerate morons… ’
And it was at this point in the proceedings that Brian became aware that he had entirely dispelled the mood of solemnity around the table and replaced it with one of acute perplexity for its Botswanan contingent and a sort of resigned weariness for his wife. So some sort of progress there, even if he hadn’t reached the sunlit uplands of amusement and hilarity. And the meal was nearly over. He could now get by with just a few observations on wine-diving moths and the continued heat-wave for what little of it remained. And then he could retire with Sandra to their chalet and contemplate how to deal with tomorrow. And, in particular, how to deal with Peter. Could they eliminate him by making him redundant – even in the absence of some appropriate new technology?
Brian already thought that they could. He thought that they could remove the biggest imperfection in this paradise really quite easily, and all it would take was not a computer or a container but just a bit of resolve. And Brian was good at resolve. Probably even better than he was at bewildering the locals.
Sandra had resolve as well. So when finally they had secured the refuge of their chalet and Brian had explained his formula for eradicating Peter, she concurred immediately.
If only, he thought (as he stubbed his toe for the fourth time), he could now come up with a similarly brilliant strategy for the removal of that bloody door-stop…
18.
The Peter-elimination strategy was to eschew any further drives and the resolve required for its implementation was simply to confirm this intention in the morning – to reiterate what Brian had already imparted to Nelson the previous evening: that he and Sandra wanted to spend the day at their chalet. So not a strategic masterpiece and not the ultimate in a test of resolution. But it worked. And, after a latish breakfast, Brian and his wife had the prospect of a whole “day at leisure” – and a whole lodge to themselves.
Well actually, Ollie and Nelson were still around and there was the odd gardener and cleaner as well. So when Brian accompanied Sandra to the lodge pool for a post-breakfast, prechalet dip, he did so in his conventional swimming shorts and not in his Speedos. He now knew a little more about Botswanan culture, but he was still unclear as to where it drew its lines in respect of public decency. And in no way would anybody who was asked to select the word that best described the appearance of his lanky frame in just a pair of Speedos choose the word “decent”. Nor for that matter “proper”, “modest” or “seemly”. And furthermore, his Speedos didn’t have a pocket in them for his hankie…
So anyway… after a relaxing swim (and after wringing out the hankie which he’d forgotten to remove from the pocket in his shorts), Brian was able to lie back on a lounger by the pool and savour the moment. For here he was, under the shade of a tree, with his wife, with uninterrupted blue sky all around, and with that much-discussed paradise pressing in from all sides. And some of this paradise was very close. Just yards away, on a large acacia tree, were two hornbills, and below them, a young cardinal woodpecker being fed by its mum. A little further away were red-billed francolins and a pied kingfisher. And across the river was the spectacle of hundreds of zebra, a dozen or so elephants, a small group of kudu and a pair of giraffes. This, thought Brian, is what the Garden of Eden must have been like. Albeit the loungers struck a slightly discordant note, and he knew that neither his shorts nor his Speedos would have featured in that original version (just as he knew that the whole proposition that such a place ever existed was based on some pretty shaky ground). But these were just (manageable) imperfections in the tableau, and the fact remained that Brian was experiencing a rare pleasure in a rare e
nvironment – and there was even the imminent prospect, not of a measly apple, but of a delightful, mouth-watering brunch. (And, of course, no casting-out stuff thereafter.)
It was done. A sufficiency of delectable calories had been ingested, a post-brunch lager had helped them to settle into the stomach, and Brian and Sandra were ready to slope off to a more private slice of nirvana. At which point Nelson appeared and suggested that nirvana might be enhanced by another lager, and would they like some at their chalet. This was an illustration of the real hospitality that lurked below the surface of all that Botswanan reserve, and his offer was accepted with the sort of alacrity that Brian rarely displayed. And then, with the sort of generosity rarely displayed at any commercial hostelry, Nelson soon reappeared not with a couple of glasses of the stuff but with a consignment of it. He had with him a giant cold box, which he then carried to their chalet and which, when opened there, proved to contain a dozen cans of the amber liquor nestling in a cushion of ice. Nirvana would certainly be enhanced, even if it could not be brought to mind after the event.
However, now that Brian and Sandra were alone in their chalet, there were still decisions to make. First, how to arrange the loungers on the deck of their chalet, how to dress themselves on this deck – or whether to dress themselves on this deck – and then with what to intersperse their deck-time and quite when this interspersal should be made. Well, in the event, decisiveness arrived promptly and… decisively. Soon Adam and Eve were established on their suitably arranged loungers, appropriately dressed, and with their planned interspersal deferred for the present. For now they would simply divide their time between wildlife studies and some mugging up on their knowledge of lager, neither of which pastimes involved apples or serpents.
Strip Pan Wrinkle Page 15
