by Mairi Wilson
“Looks like you’re going to be busy.”
“No more than usual. But it shouldn’t take more than an hour or so. The nurses will see to most of them, just vaccinations. Then we can get on to the lake.”
“No problem. Can I help?” Lexy saw his hesitation and fought the pique it caused. Play nice, Lexy, play nice. “Although I don’t want to get in the way. Perhaps I’ll just go for a wander, explore a bit, maybe even snooze under a tree somewhere …”
“Good idea. Just check the branches first.”
“Why?”
“Snakes. They can drop on you and—”
“Oh, don’t, please. I hate snakes. I really hate them. Are they pois— No. Don’t tell me. I’d rather not know.”
“Sorry. But don’t worry. They’re usually quite shy so probably none this near the clinic. In fact, from personal experience I can recommend that tree there.” Robert pointed to a particularly impressive mopane, already sheltering a sleeping dog. “You won’t be in any danger from old Rufus there. Deaf as a post and all but toothless. Plenty of room for two, anyway.”
Lexy liked this more relaxed, human Robert. But even as she turned back to him, he was all business again, already opening his door and calling to a nurse who had appeared from the clinic.
“Nurse! Nurse Anakele! Give me a hand here, would you? I’ve brought supplies.” He disappeared round to the back of the jeep and started unloading. Lexy knew she’d been forgotten so wandered off to explore the village, which took all of ten minutes, before settling herself under what did indeed look a very inviting tree. She pulled out more of her never-ending papers, spread them on her lap, and read not a word.
“Ow!” Lexy yelped more with surprise than pain as the ball bounced off her leg. She looked up to see a small boy laughing and staggering towards her on plump legs.
“George, wait!” Robert came bursting round the corner of the bungalow and swept the boy up high into the air. “Gotcha!” The child giggled in delight.
Lexy scrabbled to her feet, papers scattering over the rug around her.
“Robert, I … Are you …”
“Finished? Yes.” He smiled as he put the child down. “George, take your ball and go in to your mother. You can shoot more goals later.” The child took the ball Lexy held out to him and tottered off.
“Nurse Anakele’s son. He and I share a love of football, although neither of us is any good at it. Hope we didn’t do any damage?”
“Oh no. I was in danger of dozing and it’s far too good a day to waste doing that.” She bent to gather the strewn papers together.
“Here, let me help.” He handed her a sheaf of notes and then sat back against the broad trunk of the tree and closed his eyes. “Now, don’t let me disturb you.”
Was that a hint of humour in his voice? Surely not, Lexy thought. This was the serious Dr Campbell, after all. She hesitated for a moment, then sat and leant back too, enjoying the touch of the breeze filtering through the leaves above them.
They sat in silence, listening to the rise and fall of voices from the clinic, the occasional snore from Rufus the only outward sign that the animal was still alive.
“I was right, wasn’t I?” he said, eventually, sounding almost regretful. “In the car earlier? You do. You get it, don’t you?”
“Yes.” She breathed deeply, catching scents of acacia and freshly cut grass, the faint musk of the man beside her. “Yes, I do.”
The moment was broken by a low rumbling noise from the direction of the sleeping dog, followed by a pungent smell.
“Oh, my …” Lexy’s hand covered her nose and mouth.
“Time to go.” Robert stood, reached down and took her hand to help her up as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
* * *
Lake Malawi was astonishing. Lexy had seen pictures and read a little about it in the guidebook she’d picked up at Heathrow, but she was still completely unprepared for the breathtaking vista that unfolded as the jeep cruised down the gently sloping road to the golden shoreline, the pale water shimmering blue and silver beyond it like shot silk rippling in a breeze.
Robert’s picnic was equally astonishing. She was impressed. Very impressed. Until he confessed his housekeeper had put it all together and all he’d had to do was pick it up and put it on the back seat.
“We should have had freshly caught fish and a barbecue, really, but it’s been a while since I did that. My father taught me to fish here when I was a boy. There never seems to be time for fishing these days.”
“Yes, I can believe that. The hospital, the clinics, your research. And now your gran so ill, too. There can’t be much time left over.”
“No, there isn’t, and then there’s the … the case as well.”
“What case?”
“The Blantyre 144 appeal.”
Lexy held her breath. Blantyre 144. The folder she’d seen in Robert’s desk.
“The … er … what?” She tried to sound casual, but his slow smile told her she’d failed.
“How much did you manage to read before Audrey turfed you out?”
“I didn’t … I mean … oh, not very much. Just the title on the front really, and a quick scan of a couple of newspaper cuttings.”
“And what did you learn from those?”
“Nothing much. That a lot of people had died, in some major incident, and I caught the name Buchanan once or twice so I’m guessing the company was at fault or implicated in some way.”
“Well, that’s about right.”
“So, what’s it got to do with you?” Lexy was eager to deflect attention from her snooping and was relieved when it seemed Robert was going to let it go.
“It was a national tragedy. The scale of it. Not something this country had really seen before: 144 people dead or missing, presumed dead. Very few survivors. Almost everyone seemed to be connected to it in some way, to know someone … And of course, my family were too, Gran in particular. Helen Buchanan, you see, and her two youngest, were amongst the missing. Their bodies just three of those never recovered.”
“How awful. How really awful. Evie must have been devastated.”
“Yes. They were very close. Came out to Africa together, with Ursula, too.”
“What exactly happened?”
“There was an almighty storm. Unlike anything anyone had ever known, apparently. Trees coming down, roads flooded and impassable, the lake whipped up into a vicious whirlpool.”
Lexy looked out at the calm waters, at the mirror-smooth surface.
“I know,” Robert continued. “Hard to imagine, isn’t it? But it can be treacherous, this lake. As it was that night. Perhaps if … but I’ll get to that. So, the storm. There was a landslip, a mudslide over there on the far side; you see the slope? It wasn’t always quite as steep as that. The mudslide swept away several houses and took anyone in its path with it. So many people were making their way to the lake to try to get out by boat. The river was flooding further up and everyone thought that was the danger. No one imagined the hill was about to move. Helen’s house was destroyed. The mud took out the back wing, crushed like eggshell. Fire took the rest of the house. There was nothing left, apparently.”
“Did she … Is that what happened? Buried or burnt in her own home?”
“No.” Robert picked up a handful of shells, threw them one by one out into the lake. “No, Helen drowned, along with all the other poor souls trying to get on the Buchanan steamer.”
“What?”
“There were two boats in, both belonged to the company. There was panic and chaos at the dock, as you might imagine. People desperate to get away. Her husband commandeered the private launch for himself and the family. Wouldn’t let anyone else on board. Held them off at gunpoint. So the other boat, the Blantyre, even though it was a good deal larger, was very quickly packed, overloaded. Helen saw their housekeeper desperately trying to get on board it and called to her to come to them. When she didn’t hear, Helen ran back down the gan
gplank to the jetty to get her. The mud hit and swept everyone on the dockside into the water as it went.”
Lexy was speechless, but it didn’t matter, because Robert hadn’t finished.
“If the steamer had been properly equipped with safety equipment then there may have been more survivors. And if Buchanan’s had maintained the shoring on the slope at the back of their warehouse yard, the slip would not have been able to gather the momentum it did. As it was, the Buchanan’s warehouse was utterly destroyed. Although I’m sure they recouped more than enough from the insurance to compensate them for that, and for the loss of the steamer.”
She was struck by the bitterness in his voice, but still she said nothing. There was more yet, she could tell.
“Buchanan’s were investigated. By an inquiry panel of six, three of whom shared a common surname. One you’re familiar with, I know.”
Lexy knew where this was going. “Chakanaya.”
He nodded. “The very same. Richard has a significant stake in Buchanan’s, thanks to Cameron, and he has family and connections at every level of Malawi society. That’s why Cameron teamed up with him in the first place. If you want something done, and aren’t too fussy about how, he’s your man. Some interesting names on the witness list too, even more interesting when you look at the maiden names of some of the married women who came forward to testify. There were a few truly independent witnesses, but one by one they retracted their statements. Other people were happy to talk, off the record, but refused point-blank to testify. The Chakanaya name can have that effect.”
“I’m beginning to see why you aren’t too fond of him.”
He raised an eyebrow. “An understatement, Lexy. I can’t stand the man. There were a lot of families left without breadwinners, children without parents. A lot of people who deserved, needed, compensation, insurance money that went to a wealthy corporation rather than those who suffered. But, not surprisingly, Buchanan’s and its directors were not held to be culpable in any way at all. There was a memo, you see, that miraculously escaped the destruction. It apparently clearly directed their General Manager to implement full and thorough safety checks on all vessels, to commission a full structural review of the warehouse and its yard. And there were bank statements, belonging to that same General Manager, showing unexpected and inexplicable sums of money going into the account. The General Manager, the courts, in their wisdom, decided, had been embezzling the money meant for these safety measures, and as such was culpable, wholly and individually. Buchanan’s got off scot-free. And the Manager went to jail, where he committed suicide.”
“Robert, that’s … that’s awful. Are you saying the Buchanan directors framed him, their own General Manager?”
“Everything, everything, says that’s exactly what happened. But it can’t be proved.”
“This is personal, for you, isn’t it? Why? Who … ?”
“I can’t stand injustice. And particularly not like that. Where it’s the rich white man who gets away with it once again, and screw the natives, what ho, old chap. Africa wouldn’t be in the mess it is if Europeans hadn’t stolen it from the indigenous people.”
“You’re white …” She didn’t mean to be provocative but was surprised to hear the vehemence in his voice.
“Yes. White African, third generation, and this is home. But that doesn’t mean I think colonialism was right, or a good thing, or a necessary evil, or any of the other justifications you get bandied around. It happened, but Malawi became independent half a century ago, and we have to move on. Besides, it’s as much about corruption and abuse of power, or the rich getting richer at the expense of the poor, as it is about colour. I can’t stand that kind of injustice anywhere. Certainly don’t want it in my country.”
He stood and took a couple of steps down towards the shoreline, stood looking out at the calm waters.
“The General Manager: he was Audrey’s grandfather.”
“Aud—? Oh, your PA.” Lexy remembered the look of disapproval on the neat woman’s face when she’d discovered Lexy rummaging in Robert’s desk.
Robert nodded. “Her own father never lived down the shame, either, grew up being told his family was responsible for 144 deaths. How can you live a normal life with something like that hanging over you?”
“I’m not sure you can.”
“No. He couldn’t anyway. He spent his whole life campaigning to clear his father’s name. Unsuccessfully. It took years to try to bring an appeal and at the last minute it was denied. The Chakanaya clan, again.” A stick this time: Robert flung it as far out into the lake as he could, and waited till the splash and ripples had faded away before he spoke again.
“It was the last straw for Audrey’s father and he finally took his own life, a little over ten years ago. Audrey came home from school to find him hanging from the tree behind their house. I was the doctor who attended. When I heard the whole story, I couldn’t help but get involved. So many innocent people killed, harmed, on into the next generation, and the next, and not a penny paid out in compensation to anyone except a fat-cat corporation. I had hoped that I could help. Speak to David. Make him reconsider, now that Cameron has gone. Our families have known each other since Helen and Gran came out on the boat together. David and my father had been at school together, played rugby on the same team.”
“And?”
Robert’s laugh was harsh. “What do you think? It ended badly and I haven’t spoken to him since. So we’re trying the courts again. But if Buchanan’s want to block us, I’m sure they’ll find a way.”
“I’m sorry, Robert. I can’t begin to imagine how frustrating it must be. I mean it’s … Oh, I don’t know. It’s just … wrong.”
Robert looked at her strangely. “You think? If you were in David’s shoes, what would you do?”
“The right thing, of course!”
“Even if it meant destroying the company that your family had built from nothing into the biggest corporation in this part of Africa? Even if it meant you personally might lose everything?”
“Yes.” Lexy was unequivocal. “At least I’d sleep at night. Besides, I’m sure they’ve all got a private stash somewhere. People like that never starve.”
Robert nodded slowly. “Well. Let’s hope it gets to appeal and the courts are as clear in their understanding of right and wrong as you are. But sorry. I didn’t mean to put a dampener on our day.” He looked around him. “And now it’s all but done. We’d best get going. Sun will be going down in an hour or so.”
Lexy was quiet on the drive back, lost in her thoughts. Robert wasn’t at all the sort of man she’d thought. Driven, yes, but not, as she’d supposed, by personal ambition to make a name for himself in the world of science but by something more altruistic. No. Not at all the self-centred prig she’d branded him on first meeting. He’d also turned out to be a good listener. She’d found herself telling him all about the last few weeks, about her mother, Danny, Ursula and as much as she knew about this mysterious son, how she’d worked it out. She’d misjudged him. Maybe finally she’d learn to give people the benefit of the doubt, not make her usual snap judgements.
It was dark by the time Robert turned into the hotel driveway and drew up in front of the ornate portico.
“Thank you, Robert. I’ve really enjoyed today. We should do it again …” Lexy trailed off, hoping she wasn’t being too forward, hoping he knew she meant it.
“Mmm, me too. Yes, let’s. Maybe with the fishing one of these days.” He raised his hand and was off. Watching the jeep drive away, Lexy found herself hoping he meant it too.
14
Blantyre Hospital, June 13th
At breakfast the following morning, Barney brought Lexy a message from Robert to say that he’d been in to see Evie and she was looking forward to seeing Lexy later in the day, if Lexy wanted to go back.
Lexy arrived at the hospital in good spirits, although a little apprehensive that Evie might not be up to continuing with her reminiscences, bu
t she needn’t have worried.
“Nonsense, child. What else is there to do lying here waiting for them to cut me open? No. The past, even a sad one like Helen’s, is a much better diversion than the thought of that sort of present. Now, where were we?”
“Cameron came back. He and Ursula were back together and Ursula blamed Helen—”
“Foolish girl.”
For a moment, Lexy thought Evie meant her, was relieved when the old woman continued.
“For such a sensible and competent nurse – Sister, I should say – our Ursula was remarkably naive. But then that’s what an orphanage upbringing can do to a child. The first, slightest suggestion of love or affection and … Well, let’s just say Ursula hadn’t had a chance to develop a tolerance, an immunity, an awareness. She was easy prey for a man like Cameron. And, of course, he’d never have looked at someone like her had he not wanted to spite Helen. He blamed Helen’s rejection for ruining his life. I think he really came to believe it, too. But the man was ruined before he set foot on that cursed ship. Before he left his mother’s womb, I shouldn’t wonder. But it would suit him to have Helen as his scapegoat. He made her misery his life’s work, you know. And, of course, Ursula believed everything he said, rather than trusting her own judgement. How she could think Helen … Well, as I said. Naive. And as for him, some people are just born bad … just as some, like Helen, are born good, but fated to have that goodness put to the test time and time and time again …”
“I have news, Evie.”
Evie gasped and her face broke into a broad beam of delight.
“Oh Helen! Finally, you’re—”
“No.” Helen shook her head and frowned. “No, not that.”
“But I thought … I’m sorry. It was just that you said you were going to see Dr Leavenbrook and I just assumed …”
“No. But there doesn’t seem to be any problem, any reason … so we’re hopeful. Soon. Maybe. But anyway, it wasn’t about that. I’m going back to Scotland, hence the doctor. Seasickness pills.”
