Amie in Africa Box Set 1

by Lucinda E Clarke

  When Amie and Jonathon took their places with Diana and Richard, they were joined by a couple of the Drenton crowd, the single guys who shared an apartment in town. There were two vacant places at the table and it was towards the empty chairs that Leonard was propelling the two strangers.

  Leonard, the present Club president, introduced their guests. “These gentlemen have just travelled down from up north where they’ve been on a hush-hush mission prospecting for … what were you guys looking for?”

  The taller, sandy haired guy laughed. “Anything, anything at all, Leonard, but of course our findings are very hush-hush.”

  “Naturally,” replied Leonard. “This is Gerald Walters and Eric Goodman, and they have two more nights to go before leaving for good old UK.” Everyone laughed and clapped as the guests sat down and the waiters started serving the first course.

  “Diana and Richard Carstens.” They smiled a welcome.

  “I’m Jonathon and this is my wife, Amie.” Everyone shook hands.

  “Pleased to meet you, and great to be in civilization again,” replied Gerald. “And what line are you in?”

  “Trying to get this desalination plant built and running, though it’s like trying to swim through quicksand,” Jonathon said, pulling a face.

  “We know what it’s like,” said Eric. “But in our case, because the government was so eager for us to get our report in on time, they pulled out all the stops.”

  “Why should prospecting be such a secret?” Amie asked Gerald, who was sitting on her left side.

  “The balance of power, that’s what it’s all about. If you have something important buried beneath your land, then it changes everything. If there’s nothing there: no gold, no platinum, no uranium, no oil, then no one takes any interest in you as a third world country. But add those magic ingredients and all of a sudden you’re the flavour of the month.”

  Amie could have kicked herself for not realising the importance of natural resources. “But there’s no mining here in Togodo, is there?” she asked.

  “No, not yet.” Then, realising maybe he’d said too much, Gerald quickly turned to the person on the other side of him.

  The man sitting across from Amie claimed her attention. “You’re married to a real high flier, young lady. I hope you appreciate him!” he teased her.

  “Jonathon?” Amie was surprised. “Well, I know he’s young to have such a position in the company.”

  “A very young company, and this is their first venture abroad. Did you know that?”

  “No, no I didn’t,” replied Amie, and wondered why Jonathon had never mentioned it to her. She turned to tell Diana, but she was occupied with the guest on her other side.

  “Tell us how you find stuff. How do you know what’s hidden metres and metres under the ground?” Diana asked Eric reaching for her glass of wine.

  “Basically, we send sound waves into the ground and measure the speed they return; and that gives us the depths and densities of the underlying rocks. From the data, we can work out what minerals the sound waves passed through.” Eric buttered his roll, gave Diana a slightly lecherous look and nodded at Gerald. “He takes it a lot more seriously than I do, but I can tell you that …” Eric dropped his voice to a whisper and Amie didn’t hear the next few sentences. Watching them, Amie thought it was a good thing they were leaving in a couple of days. Eric in particular would be after the wives, and he seemed particularly taken with Diana. Amie hoped there wouldn’t be any trouble. But the dinner passed pleasantly enough and it was long after midnight when they finally returned home.

  “That was a good evening,” said Jonathon, who seemed in a better mood than he’d been in for a long time.

  “Yes, I enjoyed it too,” Amie responded. “But I must admit I was curious about what Eric was telling Diana. I felt an awful fool asking why mineral prospecting was such a big secret. Gerald didn’t talk to me again the whole evening.”

  “Well, that suits me fine,” Jonathon grinned. “Since you were the prettiest girl there, I have to take extra care of you.”

  Amie laughed, pleased at the compliment. “Hardly the prettiest, but certainly the youngest wife. Have you noticed that groups abroad get on because we’re all from the same background, and age doesn’t seem to matter?”

  “Yes,” Jonathon said ripping off his bow tie. “It’s so very different from home where all our friends were pretty much the same age as us. Here we mix as easily with fifty and sixty-year-olds as we do with those only a little older.”

  Amie threw the coverlet and sheets back off the bed. “Well, we have a lot in common with them. We’re all in the same boat together, and I quite like it; it widens your interests and horizons.”

  Jonathon nodded. “Funny, back in the UK, we’d be polite to older people, but we wouldn’t think to ask for their advice so often.” Jonathon tossed his socks in the direction of the washing basket, but they fell far short. “We were lucky to meet Richard at the airport that day, he’s been such a help.”

  “How long will it take to build the bridge?” Amie asked. She knew Richard’s company was constructing a double lane highway over the river estuary.

  “At least five more years at the rate it’s proceeding. Like everything else, time means nothing in Africa.” Jonathon yawned and fell back against the covers. “But it’s no use changing the subject. Come here and play your proper role as a wife.”

  Amie almost asked Jonathon to repeat what he’d said. It had been such a long time since he’d had any energy at all, and bed had been strictly for sleep and nothing else. Cheerfully, and now wide-awake, she jumped into bed beside him.

  It wasn’t until late the following afternoon that Amie had a chance to ask Diana about the previous evening and what had been going on between her and Eric. They chatted in the changing room before their tennis game.

  “Well, I know I shouldn’t gossip,” said Diana, ignoring the fact that that’s what most of the expatriates did most of the time. “But he was telling me they found large uranium deposits and some other rare minerals up in the northwest, which will be highly sought after.”

  “Will that make any difference to anything?” Amie asked.

  “I don’t know. Well, yes of course, in time, but no one knows how soon. If these deposits are as rich as Eric suggested, then it could catapult Togodo into a whole different league. Once the word gets out, then the larger mining companies will be beating a path to the door. It could even upset the balance here if neighbouring countries try and claim tracts of land up in the far northwest.”

  “Are there any claims?” Amie enquired.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. President Muwaba would love to expand his empire.”

  “He’s the president of Budan, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, and as I understand it, from what Eric said, the deposits are close to the northern border and probably extend into Budan. Still, I’m sure we’ll all be out of here long before all hell breaks loose. Let’s hurry, we’ve only got an hour before it gets dark, and it’s not as nice playing under the floodlights, if the power doesn’t fail.”

  Amie was hoping Wednesday wouldn’t come too quickly, but it was impossible to hold back the days and she woke in the morning with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She dragged herself got out of bed. Jonathon was already in the kitchen, finishing off his coffee as Pretty hovered nearby waiting for instructions.

  “Good morning, Pretty,” said Amie. “Can you please wash the windows today, and take the living room carpet out and give it a good shake.”

  “Yes. Madam,” replied Pretty as she poured a cup of coffee for Amie.

  “So, today’s the day?” Jonathon said.

  “Yes, but please don’t remind me. I’m not looking forward to it at all.” Amie felt very nervous.

  “Where are you meeting the colonel?” asked Jonathon.

  “He didn’t actually say, just that he would see me about two this afternoon.”

  “Then wait for a driver;
I’m sure they’ll come and collect you.”

  “I guess I’ll have to sit and wait. He didn’t tell me where his office is.”

  “Nothing on his business card?” enquired Jonathon.

  “No.”

  “If there’s a problem, or you’re at all worried, then call me.” Jonathon give her a peck on the cheek. “I’ll keep my cell phone on all day.” He picked up his laptop case and was out of the door before Amie could reply. As she watched him climb into the car, she had the uneasy feeling he’d already forgotten all about her and was concentrating on the day ahead. What was this living overseas doing to their marriage? Would it have been any different if they’d stayed in Castle Bridge? Ambition hadn’t entered their world before, but now Jonathon seemed driven and determined to succeed. Amie had to admit to herself that this was an admirable quality, especially in a husband, but it was certainly a downside for the wives. Many hours alone, an exhausted husband every night, and even when Jonathon was home, she suspected he was thinking about work most of the time. Maybe the only answer was to be as involved in your own work, and feel equally satisfied with your own career.

  A couple of years ago Amie would have jumped at the opportunity of making programmes, but now the chance had come, she was nervous and wary. She was venturing into unknown territory and she was not looking forward to it at all.

  8 BICYCLES AND SEWING MACHINES

  Amie spent most of the morning wandering around the house, trying to keep out of Pretty’s way. She checked and rechecked her equipment again and again, making sure she had enough tape, the batteries were fully charged and the camera was in running order.

  She tried to read a book, but gave up after reading half a page and not taking any of it in. She put on the radio and fiddled with the dial trying to find some music, but all she got was garbled voices. She walked around the garden, holding her mobile in one hand in case Colonel Mbanzi phoned.

  She wondered what the rest of her family was doing right now. England was two hours behind time wise, so Dean would be at school and baby Jade at the crèche. Sam would probably be doing the washing or some baking if she wasn’t out at a job interview, and Gerry would be slaving away in the Council offices. Both her parents would be at work as well, trying to cram a bit of knowledge into unresponsive and belligerent young minds. No one would be thinking of her at this minute that was for sure.

  She had lunch early, partly to settle her stomach which was churning like a cement mixer, and also to be ready in case a car came for her on time. But two o’clock came and there was no sign of transport, and by two thirty, Amie was feeling a bit panicky. What if the colonel had expected her to drive to his office, although she hadn’t a clue where it was. Would he see it as a sign of non co-operation on her part? Should she have used her initiative and found out where he was based? What trouble could this cause for Jonathon and Drenton’s desalination plant?

  It was nearly three o’clock before a large car pulled up outside the house. Out climbed a young black man in unadorned military uniform. He rang the bell and Amie walked down the front path to unlock the gate.

  “Mrs Fish?” he enquired.

  “Yes, are you from ...?” she began, but he cut her off.

  “Colonel Mbanzi sent me. He said you had equipment?”

  “Yes, yes, it’s just inside the front door,” Amie replied.

  Without waiting for permission, the driver walked into the house and picked up the boxes and started back to the car. “We must hurry,” he said. “We are late.”

  Amie followed him, thinking she was not going to take the blame. She’d been ready – the driver was late. She’d been waiting all day.

  The drive into town reminded her of the first trip from the airport, although this time many of the cars moved out of the way quickly. Although there were no official markings on the vehicle, a clean, un-dented, large, black sedan screamed power and importance. No one in their right mind wanted to get involved with officialdom, including me, thought Amie bitterly.

  They screeched through a pair of large gates set in a high wall not far from the presidential palace. Perhaps when it was first built, the three storied steel and glass construction would have been quite imposing, but now it had an air of neglect. There were weeds growing in the cracks along the walkways, and it was a long time since any of the windows had been cleaned, if ever. Several of the blinds inside hung at strange angles, obviously broken, but Amie had little time to take a closer look. The young driver quickly opened the back of the car, and grabbing the equipment boxes indicated she should follow him.

  There were guards at the gate and more guards either side of the main entrance. They stared at Amie insolently, but made no move to open the door for her and she ran to catch it before it swung back in her face. She had quickly learned that in Africa, men do not allow women to walk in front of them. The explanation being men would check first if there was any danger, so they could protect their wives and sisters following behind. Amie suspected it was more to do with male dominance and a refusal to follow first world customs. Had women here even risen to be third class citizens? For the men, their cattle were their most prized possessions, followed by the wife or several wives, which were added to the asset list as part of the household contents.

  With Amie behind him, the driver began to climb the stairs. Feeling hot and flustered Amie looked longingly at the lifts, and wondered if they were still working. They turned left on the first landing, and Amie noticed the floor was covered with a dirty, red carpet which muffled their footsteps as they walked down to the far end. Stopping at the last door, the driver knocked and waited.

  “Come,” shouted Colonel Mbanzi from the other side, and opening the door almost reverently, the driver pulled Amie inside. He placed the equipment just inside and beat a hasty retreat.

  It was the largest office Amie had ever seen, expensively furnished with an enormous desk, a separate seating area with armchairs grouped around a coffee table, and to her untrained eye what looked like several expensive paintings on the walls. Along one side of the room was a floor to ceiling bookcase crammed with books, a cocktail cabinet and a very large flat screen television.

  Colonel Mbanzi looked pointedly at his watch before nodding to a plain, uncomfortable looking chair in front of his desk. Amie was about to protest her driver had arrived late, but decided it might not be wise. She didn’t want to make enemies at any level.

  “So, you are finally here.” The colonel said with a smile, which again didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Yes ….” Amie paused, she had no idea how to address him. Was she supposed to call him Sir, or colonel, or respond to him on a more professional level, as an equal? She decided not to give him any title. She hoped he wouldn’t realise she was afraid of him, but had her doubts.

  “And I hope you are ready to start work?” He raised his eyebrows as he enunciated each word slowly and carefully.

  “I’m not sure I understand exactly what you want me to do.” Amie also spoke slowly in an effort to stop her voice shaking. Now she was here, in this obviously important office, she determined to behave as professionally as possible. What was the worst that could happen to her anyway? She’d pretend she was back home and this was just another assignment. She was her own MD, CEO and Chairman of the Board of her imaginary company, so she might as well act the part from the beginning. It gave her a little courage.

  “As I explained before….” Colonel Mbanzi gave the impression he was speaking to a mentally disabled child, “… I want you to record some of the many projects we have put in place for our people which have benefitted their lives, uplifted their standard of living and contributed to their well-being.”

  Amie wondered briefly if he always used ‘official speak’ and for a brief moment she tried to imagine him at the breakfast table pontificating to the rest of his family. She gave herself a mental shake and concentrated.

  “You did not need to bring all that equipment with you today.” The colonel wa
ved dismissively at the camera boxes on the floor. “Today’s meeting is just to discuss some of the projects we have earmarked for publicity purposes.”

  Amie reached into her bag and took out a pen and a notebook.

  “First, there is our excellent bicycle project. We furnish the schools with bicycles to lend to their pupils who would be required to travel a long way to school each day. We are proud to call it the ‘Shova Shova Bicycle Project.’ You would need to show the pupils benefitting from this expanded mode of transport.”

  Bikes to and from school, wrote Amie.

  “Then we would like to showcase our State Funded Bed and Breakfast Scheme for tourists.”

  Now he has to be joking, thought Amie. In all the months she’d been here, she had not seen a single, solitary tourist.

  “We would like you to illustrate our excellent training facilities, and then film some of the successfully run establishments.” Without pausing for breath, the colonel continued. “We are also wanting you to record the computerization within our educational establishments. We are among the first in the world to provide such an excellent service to our young learners.”

  Is he serious? thought Amie. Maybe she had a lot to learn, maybe she should wait until she actually saw these excellent facilities? They certainly weren’t obvious to the expatriate community.

  “We must not forget our advanced hospital service,” the colonel droned on. “Togodo is highly regarded in the field of medicine and we wish to show our people what advances we can offer those whose health is not of the best. In particular the neo natal ward and the latest in diagnostic equipment of which we are rightly proud.”

  A knock at the door interrupted his flow and a very beautiful young Togodian girl appeared balancing a tray with tea and biscuits. The colonel nodded at her, though Amie detected something of a leer in his expression. Without lifting her eyes to look at either of them, she placed the tray on the desk and quickly left the room.