Amie in Africa Box Set 1

by Lucinda E Clarke

“I never judge, my dear. If it bothers you and if I can help …”

  “I think Jonathon is a spy!” Amie blurted out. She stopped and held her breath.

  Helen sat quite still and said nothing.

  “There, now I know you think me quite mad. I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that,” Amie spoke so fast she stumbled over the words; she was afraid of Helen’s reaction. There was such a long pause that eventually when she did glance up; the older woman was staring out through the tent opening. She finally turned to Amie and looked into her big grey eyes.

  “I won’t lie to you,” she said, “but sometimes information is not yours to give. I think if you want to know the answer you must ask Jonathon. He’s the only one who can tell you.”

  To Amie, that told her nothing. Helen had not jeered at her, suggested she was stupid, nor that she was imagining things. So perhaps she did have reason to worry. Even if Helen knew something, she wasn’t going to share what she knew. Amie decided to change tack.

  “We can’t stay here forever can we?” she asked.

  “No, no I don’t suppose we can, although I have no idea where we would go. We’ve managed very well for the last three months, but it can’t last. Now that’s something I worry about,” said Helen. “Sooner or later someone will stumble upon our small camp and ask why we’re all living out here in the bush. Dirk sent one of the boys back last week to see if there’s anything left of Nkhandla Lodge, and then to go on to Apatu and check out the lie of the land.”

  “Jumbo?”

  “Yes. Kahlib says he’ll be back later today.”

  “How can he possibly know?” asked Amie in surprise.

  “I have no idea. After years in Africa, its people never fail to amaze me. Sometimes they ‘know’ but don’t ask me how. Come, let’s go and top up the water supplies and make ourselves useful. It’s cooler now the sun’s going down.”

  Amie got to her feet and when they emerged from the tent it was to see Kahlib and Jefri approaching the camp, dragging the kudu back on a makeshift stretcher.

  It was later that evening, while they were all sitting around the camp fire, when Jumbo appeared out of the shadows. Without making a sound, he squatted down beside Dirk as if he’d only been to the corner store for a loaf of bread. There were murmured greetings but he would eat and drink before he could tell them his news.

  The lodge, he told them, was still uninhabited, but some parts of it had been dismantled and the thatch had been stolen from the rondavels. The water pump was broken beyond repair and several birds had moved in. It sounded much the same as Amie remembered it from her last visit.

  In Apatu, life continued as before, but although the new government was firmly in charge, many people were not happy about the changes. Those who’d worked for the last government had lost their jobs, and only a few had been lucky enough to hold on to their homes and even their lives. There were many rumours of discontent, but no one seemed prepared to do anything about it. It would probably continue that way for quite some time, until the old government supporters felt strong enough, and collected sufficient armaments, to rise up in retaliation. Then the whole cycle would start all over again.

  “Were there any foreigners in the streets?” asked Dirk.

  “Yes Boss, one or two, all dressed in smart suits with important-looking cases. They may come to do business with the new government,” Jumbo replied.

  “We should go and have a look,” Jonathon remarked to Charles who nodded in agreement.

  “Any white women?” asked Helen.

  “No Miss Helen, none that I saw.”

  “It sounds as if things have moved forwards a little in the last few months,” said Dirk, “getting back to normal, well normal for Africa!” Everyone chuckled.

  Amie ran her fingers through her short, fair hair and looked around the group. On her left was Jonathon, her husband. Like her he was now deeply tanned and his fair hair was almost white, bleached by the sun, a stark contrast to his blue eyes.

  Next to him sat Charles, one of their friends from the days they lived a carefree life in Apatu. He was another expatriate from England and Amie had been shopping with Kate, his wife, when the first bombs dropped. Charles and Jonathon had been on the last plane out after the civil war had erupted, but he’d accompanied Jonathon when he flew back to look for Amie. She’d never been quite sure why he returned, but when she asked him, he’d only grinned, and told her Jonathon needed someone to hold his hand on the plane. More than that he wouldn’t say, even when she pressed him for more information. Did he still hope Kate had somehow survived? No, Amie was positive he believed her when she described how she’d watched one of her best friends being crushed to death although she’d been reluctant to go into any graphic detail.

  Charles was a comfortable sort of person to have around. He wouldn’t have been out of place in a heavyweight boxing ring; tall, solid and all muscle. He had more strength than two men put together, yet he was always gentle. Amie had once watched him carefully pick up a chameleon and place it out of harm’s way when it wandered too close to the cooking area. He was easy going and always ready to calm things down if there were words between any of the others. Yet Amie sensed the sadness deep inside. Even though Jonathon was over six-foot-tall, his slender frame made him look tiny beside Charles.

  There was Dirk and his wife Helen. They’d been forced to leave Nkhandla Lodge and live in the bush with their workers, all of whom came from the far north and belonged to the Luebos tribe. They were one of the two smaller tribes, less warlike than the M’untus, the tribe now in power, after overthrowing the Kawas who were the largest and most intelligent tribe of all.

  Dirk’s family had been in Africa for over three hundred years, one of the first white settlers to leave Europe and carve out a living from farming the virgin land. As a child he’d run free across the plains, learning all he could about the native animals and plants. Apart from the time he was away at boarding school, he’d been here all his life.

  The last six members of the camp were all former workers from the lodge: Kahlib, Jefri, Jumbo, Reibos, Kaluhah and Sampson. Eleven of us altogether, Amie thought, living near the furthest guest lodge on Dirk’s land. She’d thought they would use the building to live in, but Dirk was adamant they slept in the tents he’d rescued when they fled. They’d managed to salvage cooking utensils, boxes of matches, sleeping bags and anything else useful for survival in the wild. With only one Land Rover to use, they’d been forced to leave the rest behind, as everything had to fit in, or on, the vehicle. While Helen drove, all the men walked, it left more space for the supplies and equipment. Now, even if they went back, there was nothing left, and several of their vital supplies were dangerously low. The biggest piece of luck had been the second Land Rover and the extra provisions the camera crew had left them when Amie had been re-united with Jonathon. But even those additional essentials were almost exhausted.

  “All the traditional Africans in the rural areas use some goods from the city,” Helen had remarked to Amie one day. “Dirk may have lived here all his life, but we still mixed the old and the new. No matter where you go, you take your culture, food preferences and religion with you.”

  Amie’s thoughts flashed back to England, and the groups of immigrants she’d seen. Even though some had been in their adopted country for more than a couple of generations, they still held fast to many of the customs from their original home countries. The locals may grumble about newcomers not integrating, but how much have we integrated, she wondered. This group more than most she decided, but she remembered Helen’s words, ‘we can’t stay here forever’.

  Amie was close enough to hear Charles as he whispered to Jonathon.

  “I think it’s time to go back over the border to Ruanga. We should visit the Robbins in Umeru.”

  Helen had overheard too. “I’ll give you a shopping list,” she exclaimed. “We need more shampoo and soap and a couple of new buckets and …”

  “Whoa!” laughed J
onathon. “We weren’t exactly planning a shopping trip were we Charles?” Seeing Helen’s downcast face, he added, “But we’ll see what we can do. And yes, there’s lots of stuff we need, only teasing.”

  “Can I come too?” asked Amie. The thought of seeing Alice Robbins again, and having a hot shower or a proper bath and a bit of civilization was very appealing.

  Jonathon thought for a moment then shook his head. “I’d rather you didn’t, we’ll have to run the border at night, and it might be dangerous. I’d be happier if you stayed here safely at camp.”

  Amie was bitterly disappointed. She chewed her lip and said no more. She wondered if it would be possible to persuade Jonathon later when they were alone. She would do her best to get him to change his mind. But even if he refused to take her with him, she was determined to get the truth out of him before he left.

  2 RETURN OF AN OLD FRIEND

  Her chance came the next day as they walked from the camp to gather firewood. Each foray meant walking farther and farther away, as they’d already exhausted the area close to the camp.

  Seeing a low, flat rock and after looking around for signs of danger, Amie took Jonathon’s hand and practically pulled him over to sit beside her on the warm stone.

  “I can’t live with this anymore, Jonathon,” she told him. “I promised myself I wouldn’t talk about it, but it’s got too much so I have to know.”

  “Have to know what?” he asked. There was some hesitation in his voice as if he guessed what was coming.

  “That remark you made, about being a spy. I need to know if it’s true. And no, don’t brush me off,” she added as she saw the smile on his face. “I’ll know if you’re lying to me.” Amie wasn’t at all sure about that. She knew Jonathon could lie through his teeth and she wouldn’t be any the wiser.

  Jonathon was silent for what seemed like an age.

  “I don’t want you to know anything,” he said. “The more you know, the more danger you might be in.”

  “So, you are a spy.”

  Jonathon sighed and turned to look at her. “You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met. You’re honest and true and a seriously good person.”

  “That’s not answering my question.”

  “Put it this way, when they questioned you at the police station, you had nothing to tell them. However much they beat you, you had nothing to hide. That kept you safe.”

  “Nonsense,” snapped Amie. “I could have cooked up any old story to satisfy them. They weren’t to know if it was the truth or not. They were ready to believe what they wanted to believe. I’ve thought since, if they’d kept me there much longer, I would’ve made up some nonsense to shut them up. So, don’t palm me off with the ‘I want to keep you safe by keeping you in the dark’ routine because it won’t wash.”

  Jonathon sighed. “I guess you do have a right to know,” he said, “but it’s not the James Bond stuff you see on the movies. It’s really quite mundane. Listening, talking, asking subtle questions, and reporting back the answers to those who have an interest. That’s all there is to it, really.”

  “I suspect there is a lot more to it than that. Was that what you were doing when you were away for those months after you finished at university?”

  “Yes.”

  “Up in Scotland?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what did they do with you up there?”

  “They weren’t dishing out Jaguars with ejector seats or exploding pens if that’s what you’re thinking.” Jonathon smiled.

  “Obviously. But they did teach you something?”

  “Survival techniques, how to defend ourselves, a bit about codes and communications, enough to help us keep our cover, not a lot more.”

  “And was I part of your cover? Were you really building a desalination plant?”

  “Oh yes, that part was all above board. It was being built with British government aid. My job was to report back to the embassy on anything I might hear.”

  “But why didn’t they use the embassy staff? There were plenty of them.” Amie knew she sounded querulous, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “Far too obvious, Amie. People are more likely to let things slip if they think you’re totally apolitical. And while we’re on the subject I have a question for you, madam.”

  “What?”

  “Why didn’t you come to me and tell me about the scenes you had filmed when the rebels were murdered? Why did you go and have a private chat with Vivien at the embassy?”

  “I didn’t go to the embassy.”

  “Don’t split hairs, I know you met her at the club, but you didn’t tell me. Why not?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? You’d have sent me home wouldn’t you? Put me on the next plane back. I didn’t want to go, I wasn’t going to leave you here on your own and I wasn’t going to ruin your career either as I thought. Of course, I didn’t realize then you had two careers did I?”

  Jonathon nodded. “Fair point. So, are you satisfied now?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I don’t know what else I can tell you.”

  “Charles, too?”

  “Charles?”

  “Don’t be obtuse Jonathon, is Charles another spy?”

  “Not exactly, more a reliable eyewitness.”

  Amie thought it was beginning to sound like one big boys’ club where they played games behind closed doors and whispered secrets about what they heard.

  “Did you know that war was going to break out in Togodo?”

  “We suspected it in the long term, but it took us by surprise. If we’d known about the massacres in the bush earlier, we might have been able to take action sooner.”

  Amie gasped. It had never occurred to her she could have played a part and even saved lives. She had procrastinated for days before approaching anyone in authority and the consequence of her actions didn’t bear thinking about.

  “There’s one more thing.”

  “What?”

  “I want you to teach me to take care of myself.”

  “What?”

  “I mean to fight, use a gun, unarmed combat, that sort of thing. I want to be more prepared if anything happens again.”

  If Jonathon was surprised, he didn’t show it. “I can teach you a bit, but after everything you’ve been through, I think you can take very good care of yourself.”

  “There’s always room for improvement,” said Amie. “When are you going to Umeru?”

  “Charles and I plan to leave tomorrow. We thought we might also go on down to Atari and touch base.”

  Amie counted on her fingers. Three days to get as far as Umeru, say two days staying with the Robbins, another day to the capital, two days there and …

  “We’ll try to make it back in a couple of weeks,” Jonathon replied to her unspoken question.

  “And you won’t take me with you?” Amie asked again.

  “No,” replied Jonathon firmly. “It would be much too dangerous and you’ve been in enough tight situations to last a lifetime.” He scrambled to his feet. “I think we’d better start looking for some wood.”

  It was amazing how much there was to do around the camp. Amie had never fully appreciated the amount of time most species spent simply gathering or finding food. For people there was also the preparation; none of them had got to the point of eating raw meat, if you didn’t count the biltong. Amie had often bought the dried meat at her local butcher as she and Jonathon enjoyed it, but she was surprised to see it was made from raw meat, and Dirk had been making it all his life. He had a supply of spices and she watched in fascination as he rolled the strips of raw meat in them and hung them to dry on hooks.

  “We need to make as much as possible,” he explained as he worked. “When the rains come, if they come, we won’t be able to keep a fire going as easily. We’ll need protein to stay healthy.”

  They got their water from a deep hole the men had dug in the river bed, not too close to the camp, for the smell of easily accessible w
ater could attract predators. Collecting water and firewood took many hours each day and at least two members of the party were out hunting for most of the time.

  Amie had always believed the African savannah was teeming with wildlife, and there was possibly more in this area, since they were still on the edge of Dirk’s land. Whether anyone would respect Dirk’s right to own the land now was a moot point, but at least they had the semblance of living legally. No one had mentioned what might happen, should people from the city decide to investigate. It was a subject they hadn’t wanted to raise.

  It was three days since Jonathon and Charles had left. The sun was sinking in the sky and Amie and Helen were sitting on the ground sorting berries when Jumbo and Kaluhah appeared, dragging between them what looked like a small antelope. Amie only gave them a quick glance then she gasped. It wasn’t an animal; it was a man, or at least the body of a man.

  Dirk jumped to his feet and ran to take a closer look.

  “Boss, look what we found,” said Jumbo. “A filthy Kawa,” and he spat in the dust to emphasize his disgust. “He was spying on us. He would tell the city people we are here.”

  “Good God!” exclaimed Dirk. “He’s barely alive!”

  “I wanted to …” and Kaluhah drew his finger across his throat. “But Jumbo said to bring him here so you could deal with him.” He dropped his half of the burden, which fell and remained quite still.

  Dirk rolled the man over and felt for a pulse as the women hurried over to look.

  “There’s a faint sign of life,” said Dirk, “but he’s not in good shape.”

  Helen recovered her wits first and went to fetch a bowl of water and a flannel. She sat beside the man and began to wipe away some of the dirt on his face. Amie gave a small cry.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Dirk. “Don’t worry, we won’t kill him, even if that’s what some of us want to do.” He glanced briefly at his men.

  “But Boss,” argued Jumbo, “it is dangerous to let him live. We only brought him here so you could get the truth from him.” He kicked the man in disgust.