A Wedding in Africa (The Africa Series) (10 page)

‘Well, he is number two in the organisation,’ Tate volunteered, eager not to let his cynicism show. ‘I guess he needs to be on call twenty-fourseven.’

‘I know, but I just wish he’d stop and think about
my
needs once in a while. I can’t bear the thought of living in the city. I’ll just wither and die there.’

Lacey looked so sad as she said those words, that Tate’s heart went out to her. He could imagine exactly how he’d feel in her place. Wretched. But then why was she allowing this to happen? She must think a lot about Schutte if she was prepared to live somewhere she didn’t like just to please him.

‘Maybe you should talk to him. Tell him how you feel.’

‘I’ve already tried. I even pointed out that my father managed to commute for years without any problems, but even that didn’t sway him. He’s dead set on being an integral part of “Cape Town Society” as he puts it. He wants us to enjoy a busy social life – you know, dinner parties, golf, sailing. The usual stuff.’

Suddenly, Lacey glanced up to find Tate’s eyes watching her intently. He looked puzzled. And she could easily understand why. She must sound horribly disloyal, complaining about her fiancé like that. She had a great life in Cape Town. And Mortimer only wanted what was best for them as a couple. He had big plans, and her own father supported those plans wholeheartedly. Who was she to sabotage them with doubts or complaints? And what right did she have to even hint at Mortimer’s shortcomings? Especially to a man like Tate Maddox. Annoyed with herself for letting her guard down, she sat up straight and lifted her chin with defiance.

‘Hey - listen to me going on there,’ she laughed in a bid to lighten the tone. ‘I don’t know what I’m complaining about. We’ve been to see some truly stupendous properties. There was one – a magnificent Cape Dutch style mansion – that took my breath away.’

Tate raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. If she wanted to live with Mortimer Schutte in some city sprawl, who was he to argue? And he certainly didn’t want her thinking that he was remotely critical of their house-hunting plans. That was their business. Nothing to do with him. And he didn’t want to give the impression that what she did with Mortimer Schutte actually mattered to him. It didn’t. Not one jot!

He had his own life to lead. He had his own women friends. Women like Tilly Du Preez. Why would he be interested in Lacey’s life? ‘I’ve decided to accept Tilly’s invitation to her birthday party,’ he declared, abruptly changing the subject.

 

‘You have?’ Once again, Lacey felt that strange knot of jealousy twist in the pit of her stomach. ‘That’s great.’

‘And I think you should come with me.’ Tate figured that he could kill two birds with one stone. Lacey’s presence would make sure that Tilly didn’t get the wrong idea about him, and going to Tilly’s party would show Lacey that he had other women in his life.

Complicated, he asked himself ? Sure it was. But necessary? Perhaps. Lacey baulked. ‘I couldn’t possibly go to a party with you, Tate.’ ‘Why not?’

‘Well, for a start, I don’t have anything to wear. I didn’t bring anything suitable for a party.’

‘I’ll buy you something. We can take a trip over to Pretoria. I’ve got the helicopter. It’ll take less than two hours. We can be there and back in half a day.’

Lacey laughed. ‘Oh Tate. That’s so generous but I couldn’t possibly let you buy me a dress.’

‘Well, unless you want to turn up to the party in jeans and a T-shirt, you’re going to have to. We can go tomorrow. Maybe grab a bite to eat at this amazing restaurant I know that specialises in the fusion of Cajun and Creole cuisine. What do you say?’

Lacey wanted to protest - knew she
should
protest - but it would seem churlish to refuse to go to Tilly’s party. She’d liked the woman when they met briefly on her first day at Matshana. There was no way that she could refuse to attend her birthday party – even if she did feel she’d end up looking like a gooseberry.

She was fairly certain that Tate and Tilly were an item, and she wouldn’t know anyone else there, so it could be a tad embarrassing. But it might also be fun to meet new people. And she’d certainly welcome the chance to show Tate that she had no designs on him - that she was perfectly happy to be with him
and
his girlfriend. Yes – the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea.

‘Okay, Tate. I’ll come. I haven’t been to Pretoria in ages – and, to be honest, what girl wouldn’t jump at the chance to buy herself a new dress?’

‘Great! But I get to buy the dress. That’s the deal. It’ll be a thank-you for all the help you’re giving me with the lodges. So, can you be ready first thing in the morning?’

Lacey smiled, excited in spite of her misgivings. ‘I certainly can.’

‘Then I’ll make sure the chopper’s ready. And thanks, Lacey. It means a lot to me.’
The journey to Pretoria in Tate’s helicopter had been thrilling. The R22 Beta helicopter was a plush two-seater model. Windows in both side doors afforded panoramic views of the spectacular Mpumalanga Province. They flew west so Lacey was able to look down on the majestic peaks of the Drakensberg Mountains on her left. Below, sparkling rivers meandered though shrub and woodland, and the vast open plains, stained with yellow ochre and burnt umber, stretched for miles. Above them, the African sun shone brightly against an azure sky.

Lacey clung on to her seat, her gaze sweeping from side to side in a bid to take in every inch of the majestic landscape below. It was an exhilarating ride, made more so when Tate pointed out wild animals and geological features as he guided the aircraft with supreme self confidence and skill. He clearly loved flying, and was exceptionally good at it. And Lacey couldn’t help but be impressed.

‘You certainly know how to handle this thing,’ She said without needing to shout. One of the first things she’d noticed was how quiet the craft was, and Tate had pointed out that the R22 Beta was prized for its low travel noise.

‘It’s a honour to be able fly such a beautiful machine,’ Tate grinned. ‘I love this little chopper.’

 

‘It’s definitely a boy’s toy,’ Lacey teased.

Tate glanced sideways and shrugged. ‘You’ve got me there, Lacey. But a guy’s got to have some pleasures – and this little baby is definitely one of mine. Sometimes, I take her up just for the sheer hell of it.’

‘And it’s so different seeing Africa from this height. It’s much better than a plane. You feel as though you’re just skimming the ground. You can make out everything. And you’re surrounded by glass, right down to your feet, so you don’t miss a thing.’

‘I’m thinking of using it to take the guests at the lodges on helicopter safari trips. We’ve got the Big Five on Matshana, so it’ll be a worthwhile holiday experience.’

Lacey sighed. ‘Helicopter safaris. That sounds so wonderful. So romantic. Your guests will love that.’

‘Safari’s a Swahili word, you know. It means “journey”. And that’s what I want my guests to have – not just a holiday, but a journey into Africa - the
real
Africa, as you like to call it!’

Lacey beamed at Tate. She was delighted that he’d chosen to use her own words to describe his affection for Africa. It was the first time that anyone had really understood what she was all about - how she felt about her beloved homeland.

‘It’s great that you can use it for business as well as pleasure,’ she said.

Tate tilted the craft as the Pretoria skyline came into view. ‘Oh, I already use it for the business. I take it up to check on the wild animals – you know, see whether any are injured, or if any youngsters have been separated from their mothers. It also gives me a good overview of what’s happening on Matshana. The Big Five might be good for safaris, but elephants, lions, leopards, rhino and buffalo can cause a hell of a lot of damage to trees and crops. And, as you know, we’re mainly a citrus fruit plantation. Trees are Matshana’s lifeblood, so I have to make sure that the jumbos don’t go ripping them up or trampling the crops. I’d be lost without this chopper. It would take weeks to cover Matshana completely on the ground. In this little baby, I can do it in a couple of days. Anyway, hang on in there, we’re coming in to land.’

Pretoria was everything Lacey remembered it to be. Unlike South Africa’s thriving commercial capital, Johannesburg, Pretoria had an unexpected dignity and elegance. With its grand buildings, and wide avenues flanked by jacaranda with their distinctive purple blossom, the country’s administrative capital exuded an air of old-fashioned charm.

The city itself had been built into one of the lush, fertile valleys of the Magaliesberg Mountain range, just fifty kilometres north of Johannesburg. With its sub-tropical climate of hot, wet summers and mild, dry winters, it boasted an abundance of world-renowned parks and exotic botanical gardens.

As they wandered down one of Pretoria’s exclusive boulevards, bustling with couture boutiques and restaurants, Lacey was thankful to Tate for bringing her here – and in such style!

‘People think it’s a bit staid here,’ said Tate. ‘But it’s changed a lot over the years – especially since Nelson Mandela’s inauguration. The ceremony took place in the Union Buildings just over there. Now, as you can see, Pretoria’s transformed itself into a really cosmopolitan kind of city.’

‘It’s lovely. And much less stressful than Jo’burg. I really like it here.’

‘I’m glad, Tate replied, taking her elbow and guiding her towards an expensive boutique fronted by glass and marble. ‘Now I’m told, on the very best authority, that this is
the
place to shop for women’s clothes in Pretoria. Let’s see if we can get you kitted out for Tilly’s party.’

As if in a dream, Lacey allowed herself to be shepherded into the shop. The air-conditioning inside was a welcome break from the humidity outside, and the internal fountains and cool, marble floors washed over her with an almost Zen-like calm. Big, cream-coloured leather sofas lined the walls, and impossibly stylish sales assistants hovered politely in their sharply-tailored suits.

One young woman glided towards them as they entered, her smile exposing two rows of perfectly pearly teeth. Even the assistants were glamorous, Lacey thought with a smile. This had Tilly Du Preez’s stamp all over it. Glancing down at her own floaty skirt and Gucci flats, she wondered whether they would stock anything that would be remotely suitable for someone like her – someone who couldn’t bear to be “trussed up like a turkey in satin and lace” as she often described some of Cape Town’s more affluent residents.

‘Can I help you Madam? Sir?’ The assistant led them towards one of the armchairs. ‘Can I get you something to drink? Green tea? Cappuccino? Latte? Perhaps a glass of our tropical fruit punch?”

‘I’ll take the juice,’ Tate replied, dropping down into the armchair. ‘A large one, please. With ice! I’m as dry as a bone.’

‘Me, too,’ Lacey said, glancing about her at the rows of designer labels. ‘Certainly. Now then, how can I help?’

‘I’m looking for something simple, but elegant.’ Lacey rummaged around in her brain, desperately trying to imagine what kind of dress would be suitable for Tilly’s party. ‘And, as you can see, I have green eyes and red hair, so we have to be careful with the colour. Believe me, it’s the bane of my life!’

The assistant stared at Lacey with wide, wondering eyes. ‘You must be joking!’ she gasped, momentarily forgetting her impeccable sales etiquette. ‘You have the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen. It’s like fire. It’s simply stunning.’

‘I agree!’ One of the other sales assistants joined them with a third girl in tow. ‘And your eyes! Gosh! If you don’t mind me saying so, Madam, I’ve never seen eyes quite like yours. They’re…amazing.’

Lacey felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She turned to Tate in a silent plea for help, but he merely sat there with that infuriating lopsided grin on his face. His left foot was resting on his right knee as he lounged against the leather upholstery. He was looking up at her from under his lashes, his gunmetal eyes watching her with just a hint of mild amusement.

Lacey wanted to kick him!

 

‘Is it for a formal affair or a party, Madam?’

‘A party,’ Lacey responded, pointedly ignoring Tate. ‘But I don’t want anything too showy. I won’t know anyone there, so I don’t want to draw attention to myself.’

Tate chuckled and sipped the juice that one of the girls handed to him. He didn’t notice that the young girl’s eyes practically devoured his handsome face with something akin to hero worship, and that her hand shook slightly when she gave him his drink. Nor did he spot her young colleague gawping at him with the kind of idolatry that a male model, or even a movie star, would normally merit.

But then Tate never noticed women’s instinctive reactions to his striking good looks. And even if he had, he would never have believed the reason for it in a million years!

‘I have just the dress for you, Madam.’ The assistant went over to an exclusive collection of Italian designers. She returned seconds later holding a shimmering pale bronze dress with a short square neckline and pleated panels at the front and back. It was clasped together with an elegant waist bow, sprinkled with tiny crystals. Apart from the bow, the dress was quite plain, yet the colour added its own touch of sophistication.

Lacey ran her fingers over the delicate fabric as the girl held it up by its hanger. ‘It’s lovely,’ she murmured, delighting in the softness. ‘What do you think, Tate?’

‘Try it on,’ he replied. ‘That’s the best way to make a life-changing decision like this.’

Inside the huge mirrored changing area, Lacey slipped the dress on and stood back to assess her reflection. Not bad, she admitted privately. It certainly suited her colouring. She liked the way it nipped in at the waist, without being too clingy around the hips and bust. She also liked the faint sparkle on the waist bow. It was just enough to add a dash of glamour without piling on the bling.

Not that she’d have been able to in any case. She’d not bothered to pack any jewellery - for obvious reasons – and she certainly wouldn’t countenance Tate buying anything for her! Heaven forbid! She could imagine what Mortimer would have to say if she arrived back in Cape Town clutching expensive trinkets bought by another man. No. She was here on business. She could hardly have been expected to know that she was going to some fancy society do.