Black Mischief (32 page)

‘Rebecca, suddenly, why so sad when you say this?'

‘Listen.' Rebecca let the sheet she was washing fall back into the hot, soapy water. ‘Look around. Beautiful Kenyan garden. These flame trees, the bougainvillea, the bananas over there in the corner. My favourite is this big hedge between us and the house, cei-apple. You can eat those yellow fruits. But it is a hidden place.'

‘But how can this make you sad?'

‘Those girls, my friends, many of them long for one special thing. They want their own toto, to carry on their backs in a shawl. This will make them feel like proper women.'

‘So they will get married soon?'

‘Some, but not many. A man will give them the child, but there will be no marriage. A child is good but the men, well, not often. They will drink. They will take their money and beat them. But there is something else.'

‘They are afraid that their family will be angry?'

‘No, they are excited and they feel no fear. But I do, for them. I have been in the hospital here and spoken to a lady nurse from another country. Many of the babies die, some of the mothers. There is no love in that place, no compassion, not many things to help when the baby is coming. In Nairobi yes, if you have money. I am sorry, Lydia, but this sadness is close to my heart. I am blessed many times over. I will use these blessings. Soon the workmen will get our land ready for the new place. So many people will help us. Some will be coming to Londiani tonight. You will see them. And it is going to happen.'

* * *

Peter Bellengeri owned a cattle farm on the other side of the lake where he kept two large earthmoving machines. Fred Sawyer was the leading building contractor in the Nakuru district. Sonya Mboya had spent her working life in hospitals, mostly in maternity wings.

Rebecca was thrilled to see all three of them together for the first time on the veranda of Londiani. The sundowner was still going on long after the darkness settled on the valley and the lake had been transformed into its nocturnal steely grey.

The story of the day had been repeated for the newcomers. The mood was convivial and optimistic when the conversation moved on to the idea of building a new hospital for the town.

Rebecca was sitting against the backdrop of the night sky as she set out her dream. Her natural beauty was enhanced by the passion of her belief that powered a glow in her face that held her listeners spellbound. For the hundredth time Tom fell in love with her. Once again the strength of her feeling and her fluency convinced him that she was the one who should be standing for Safina in the election and not him.

‘I love this place. We all know that our people, we, need many things to give us what is important in our lives. Families want clean water that is brought into their home. Our children need schools with books and teachers who really care. The list is long. Why do I believe that a hospital comes first? Because that is where the lives of so many of our people begin, those dangerous hours when we make our journey from the womb into the world. Thomas and I hope to be married soon. We want our babies born close to home and we want the best for all our mothers-to-be. Bwana McCall has given us the land. I know he does not like that name and I promise that I will not use it again. But we must honour his gift and we must begin to honour it tonight. Am I foolish to speak out this dream?'

Enthusiasm tempered by realism was the hallmark of the discussion that followed this longest single public utterance of Rebecca's life. By the end of the evening her dream had become a project. Temporary appointments were made to give some focus to different aspects of this newly born plan. It was reasoned that, without these, the blurring of areas of responsibility could undermine the practicalities that dreams must have to become realities. Tomorrow might become next week, next year and, eventually, never.

Rebecca sat silent but wide-eyed with delight to watch the way that the three people in the room who could be described as experts set off ideas in each other. As Fred Sawyer, Peter Bellengeri and Sonya discussed possibilities, she could visualise the new place not as an empty, lifeless shell but a thing of beauty alive with human activity.

‘Contracts, costings, materials, all dull paperwork will be the practical strengths here.'

‘Totally agreed, Peter. We will need a clerk of the works almost straight away.'

‘Fred, you and Peter could organise that.'

‘Oh, yes, Alex, if you trust us.'

‘Course we do. Otherwise you wouldn't be here tonight.'

‘No, Alex. I've seen too many scams and rip-offs, sometimes by so-called honest businessmen you thought you had on your side. Make haste slowly.'

‘But this is going to work, for sure. A lot of lives are going to be changed, Rebecca. I want to be part of this. I want to make a proposal to get us going. I had a walk around the land on my way here. I hear you and Tom are off to America on Sunday. Two weeks?'

‘Yes, Peter.'

‘There are no plans yet, but by the time you get back, I could have my machines over again to finish clearing the site. Alex and Bertie, you could come over. We'll have a rough area ready. We need plans. The council will have to approve, etcetera. Come on. Let's get going.'

* * *

Maura and Lydia were back by seven from their overnight stay with Mary Coulson in Gilgil. Two four-wheel drives were packed and loaded for the safari up into the south-western side of the Aberdares, a treat for the boys, a time away from houses and crowds. Lydia rode with Sonya and her boys. Bertie drove, excited by the prospect of taking Ewan on his first adventure into wild country. Tom led the way off the A104 onto the lower slopes of the Kinangop. His only passenger was Rebecca, but they were loaded with the tents, the sleeping-bags and the rest of the ridiculous amount of equipment and supplies needed to spend a single night out in the open on a cold mountain.

The boys were into a magical new land. They loved the bumps and lurches as the Pajero clambered relentlessly up the stony track that, in places, was more like a dry river bed. Sonya thought that too much of such a rough ride would bring on the nausea she invariably felt on long journeys by air, but this was a triviality compared to hearing the delight of her boys as they shrieked and laughed at every new bounce and roll.

Ewan, belted in at his father's side, was less assured. He was strapped in tight and his view was limited to what he could see above the level of the windows and that meant the endless green of lush foliage broken occasionally by squares and triangles of blue sky and heavy sacks of grey cloud. For a time Bertie wondered if it had been a mistake to bring a boy, not yet three, up into this mass of forest and thicket. Had he brought him for selfish reasons, too eager for him to start experiencing the great life outdoors? But, at last, infected by the happy noise coming to him from behind, Ewan reached over to touch his father's arm.

‘Dad, can we come up here to live?'

A relieved Bertie turned to smile at Sonya. ‘What about a couple of songs to let the forest people know that we love being up here with them?'

‘I don't know any songs all the way through.'

”Course you do. Here's one. Used to sing it at Pembroke. You heard it last bonfire night. “Old MacDonald had a farm!” Yes?'

After singing themselves out, the travellers settled into a happy, dozy state, lulled into silence by the heavy sound of an engine working hard in a low gear. Nearer the top, the road became less bumpy, but the boys and Lydia were surprised by the chill on the breeze blowing in through the open window. So the windows were wound up and there was a struggle to put on anoraks. A heavy shower rattled on the roofs and for a time blotted out the now more distant horizons. When the rain stopped, it was time to get out. They had reached the flat, open glade that was to be their base for the next twenty-four hours.

Noah and his brothers stepped down onto the sodden clumps of grass and looked around. No sign of blue sky up here. The silence was broken only by the drip of thousands of droplets of water sliding from the leaves of the trees close by. Tom unloaded the boxes of rubber boots and thick, woollen socks. The boys did not like the chill, damp air, did not see it as a refreshing change from the heat they had left behind on the plains. Even the slightest movement of their bodies up in this alien land helped the cold to tighten its grip on every inch of their skin. But there was a remedy close at hand.

A mug of hot sweet chocolate warmed their hands and cheered them up. As they drank, the boys looked ‘round again to find that the landscape had changed miraculously.

The damp trees suddenly showed off their solid branches at comfortable heights, inviting young legs and arms to heave themselves up and explore the mysteries of the overhanging foliage. For Ewan, all the attraction was at ground level. Those muddy puddles in the tracks were wider and browner than those he splashed through in Rusiga, even when the long rains had lashed down on the night before.

While the boys played, the adults worked. The little patch of green became a proper camp. The gas stoves were soon full on and heavenly smells were helping to change the playground into a paradise.

‘Daddy, can we come here to live? Please!'

‘We'll have to ask the bwana of the mountain.'

‘Where does he live? Can we go and see him, now?'

‘Ah, well, I think it's his day for being over by the big mountain.'

‘Bigger than this?'

‘Yes. And, Ewan, I don't think he likes houses in his kingdom. Nests he likes and dens, but our houses with their fires and their chairs. I don't think the dragon …'

‘Dragon?' Sammy grabbed Moses around the shoulders and peered up into the trees with a mischievous grin lighting up his face. ‘I hope he lives up on that big mountain!'

‘Is it a pretend dragon, Daddy?'

‘Well, boys, I'm not sure. I've never seen him, but I know for sure he likes good Kenya boys who look after the forest.'

The quiet time after lunch was brief. Tom made an announcement.

‘Who wants to go fishing?'

Four young bodies flashed into full-on energy.

‘Any of you ever heard of the Karuru River?'

Four foreheads beetled in puzzlement. Tom and Bertie smiled. ‘Bertie and I have been up here lots of times, with my father, Eddie and Rollo. Always managed to catch something.'

‘Any sharks up here, Tom?'

‘I'm not sure, Ewan. I remember one time your mother …' Tom stopped abruptly, angry with himself for his carelessness. He looked across at Bertie and shook his head, regret written all over his face. Bertie had recovered his poise and almost had it wrenched away in the next second. Ewan explained to his three young friends unemotionally.

‘I never saw my mummy. But your mummy did. Daddy told me she was there.'

Bertie steeled himself. ‘It's all right, Tom. Yes, Mummy was up here, too. Tom's right. She caught a fish so big it made enough supper for seven people.'

‘That must have been a shark!'

‘You know, I can't really remember for sure.'

‘I say we go and see what fish are there today, just waiting for us.'

‘Oooh, Daddy, like you say, let's put our best foot forward.

Sam, that means hurry.'

* * *

Rebecca, Sonya and Lydia were in sombre mood as they finished their domestic chores. When they sat down together for yet another coffee, Sonya explained to Lydia.

‘Yes, I was there. I had been watching Anna closely since we first heard about the pregnancy. “My miracle baby” she called him. She and Bertie knew the risks. When she came in for the birth, she told me straight away. “Sonya, promise, if things don't work out, let me go and save the child”. When Ewan was just about to come Bertie drew me to one side. “I hate to ask this but, Sonya, whatever happens, don't let my Anna go. Please.”'

‘Oh, Sonya!' Lydia reached out to touch Sonya's arm.

‘You know, I've been working with mothers and babies for so many years, but the mystery of those precious moments is there every single time. Gynaecologist is a fancy name but, really, I'm no more than a bystander trying to help. The big decisions are made elsewhere. But that was my worst time. I wanted them both, but I didn't have to fool myself for a single second that I was playing God. The little one was a fighter from the very first moment. Anna saw him, heard him cry but …' She covered her face and wept quietly. ‘The pity of it. When I brought his boy to Bertie, we just cried our eyes out.'

The three women sat quietly in the privacy of their thoughts and listened to the sounds of the fitful breeze and the screaming calls of a pair of black kite skimming their way to the open plains further up the mountain range.

* * *

The fishing party returned earlier than expected. Sonya was talking to Lydia when they arrived.

‘Simon and I loved it in America. The boys hadn't come along then. We were both offered jobs in Doctors Hospital. We thought about it but, well, NewYork for a holiday, yes, but where could you find a place like this… My God, what's this?'

The three of them ran to the edge of the glade. Every one of the fishermen looked as if they had not been by the river but in it. Bertie led the way with Ewan crying in his arms. Tom followed and he was carrying one of the brothers - it must be Sammy - in his arms. The boy was silent. Sonya ran to him. She saw the blood on his blue anorak and then a wound to one side of his forehead.

Moses and Noah ran to their mother and buried their heads in the folds of her coat. The tears held back for so long were released mingled with sobbing, desperate pleas from Noah.

‘Mamma, is he going to be all right? I didn't push him. He just sort of slipped …'

Tom took over quickly. ‘We were coming close to the falls. The boys wanted to look down to try to see the bottom. Ewan slipped and fell into the mud. Sammy went to help him up. He skidded and slid over.'