Amie in Africa Box Set 1

by Lucinda E Clarke

  The scenery flashed past with barely enough time to see the outer suburbs, tiny villages, livestock, and children running along right next to the road. A few miles out, the driver stopped to pick up more passengers although where they were going to sit was a mystery. From having enough space to move a little, Amie was now jammed up hard against the bulkhead with hardly enough room to breathe. Just when she thought she would suffocate – the temperature was rising alarmingly – someone passed a child over the heads of the people in front and plonked it on Amie’s lap. While Amie liked small children and hoped one day to have some of her own, she would’ve preferred the infant in a clean nappy. Fumes from rank urine burnt her nostrils and she was tempted to pass it on further back in the bus until she remembered she was sitting in the back seat. The child refused to stay still and continually kicked Amie in the stomach gurgling happily despite being dumped on a total stranger. On reflection it turned out to be the most uncomfortable journey she had ever taken, and it was going to last for seven hundred kilometres.

  To her relief, when they stopped for a rest break at Barberton, a woman pushed her way from the front and reclaimed her child. By now Amie’s stomach was sore and her legs totally numb.

  She crawled out of the taxi and leaned against the side of the bus rubbing her limbs to get the blood flowing. The queue – if the heaving mass of people could be called a queue – was clamouring around the small roadside stall shouting their orders. At first, Amie patiently waited her turn but when others got served before her, she joined in the pushing and shoving to finally get her hands on two bottles of lukewarm cool drink and a large packet of crisps. After the short break everyone clambered aboard again and they took off at breakneck speed along the highway.

  At last Amie recognized where she was when they raced down under Tollgate Bridge into Durban and on into Warwick Triangle. Even though this was an area of town she was not too familiar with, she knew that the local people shopped in the fresh produce markets and purchased muti (medicine) from the witchdoctors. The road sellers were still displaying their wares on the pavements even at this hour; everything from cheap and tatty Chinese imports, to dried monkey heads and other desiccated African animal bits, vital for fighting spells and curses.

  She grabbed her bag, which had spent the entire journey under her feet, and cast around for a means of getting back to Umhlanga. Her apartment appeared like an oasis in her mind. She was hot, sweaty, miserable, worried, scared and all she wanted to do was hide in the only home she had.

  There were no local taxis available, nor even any of the mainstream ones in this part of town, so her only option was to walk into the central business district and hope to get one outside the Durban Playhouse. Gerrit? No, too much explaining to do. That bus had well and truly left the depot. At least the walk might loosen up her muscles. They were so tight they were threatening to go into spasm. But she was fearfully anxious, she’d been warned so many times about going out unaccompanied at night. Every time she heard footsteps behind, her head snapped round. She saw shadows threatening from every doorway, and it wasn’t until she hit the main streets that she began to relax.

  The first taxi she approached refused to take her anywhere. She might look as if she had the money for the fare but she also looked like a drunk or a drug addict hobbling along, legs still suffering the effects of cramps and pins and needles, clutching her backpack in one arm and a bottle of water in the other. Not only that but she didn’t smell too fresh either thanks to the overactive bladder of the child on the bus.

  When the third taxi driver told her that he was booked and only waiting for his passenger to arrive, she begged him to make a plan.

  He told her to wait, he was only taking them up to the Berea, and then he would come back for her.

  She huddled in a shop doorway, wondering if the police would try to move her on, or even arrest her for vagrancy. Little did they know she’d left a man dead back in the game park, crossed the border illegally into and back from Mozambique plus stolen and wrecked a car – that would keep them busy for a while as they added up all the charges. She tried to imagine the scene back in the camp before deciding that was a very bad idea. She’d never know, and probably it was best not to know.

  After what seemed like a life time but was probably only half an hour, the taxi driver returned and she climbed gratefully into the back. She was about to give her street address when she hesitated. It might take the police, or anyone else who took an interest in her, a little longer to find her, so she simply asked him to take her to the large shopping Mall at Gateway. Her apartment wasn’t far from there and even though she felt she couldn’t walk another inch, somehow, she would dredge up the energy.

  The driver gave her a startled glance. “They close up at ten.”

  “Yes, yes, I know, but I, uh – am meeting a friend there, she’ll be waiting for me. She went to movies tonight.” The agenda for her mythical friend rolled off her tongue.

  The driver shrugged his shoulders, set the meter running and pulled into the street.

  “You’ve got money for the fare?” he asked bluntly.

  “Yes, yes, no problem.” All Amie wanted was to get indoors and now this clown was having second thoughts.

  “Well, if you’re sure, then,” and he put his foot down and headed north.

  When Amie handed over the fare, she was convinced he was overcharging her by several Rands, but she was past caring. He dropped her by one of the main entrances, and she waited until he’d driven out of sight before she limped across the deserted car parks round to the other side of the complex, and finally into the road where she lived.

  She was still clutching her handbag and her fingers trembled as she hunted inside for her keys. She couldn’t feel them anywhere and was hyperventilating by the time a young man came down the stairs and out through the main door, holding it open for her. Amie called out her thanks as she scuttled inside and jumped into the lift. She pressed the button for the top floor and kept scrabbling in her bag, there they were, right at the bottom.

  Still shaking she turned the key in the lock and almost fell into her entrance hall. She slammed the door shut, drew the chain across, and threw herself onto the sofa, as her chest began to heave and she sobbed quietly. The horrors of the last few days flashed in front of her eyes. She wept for Jonathon and Angelina, for Pretty and Mathilda but most of all for herself, alone, with no home, no family and no friends. She’d never felt so lost, so abandoned.

  At last the tears dried up, and Amie hobbled into the kitchen area to make herself some coffee before easing her aching body under the shower. The warm water was soothing, despite all the cuts and bruises she’d sustained on her romantic weekend away in the bush; some holiday that was, some romance!

  She flung a ready meal into the microwave and sat down at her laptop. There was a message from Maddy asking Amie to contact her urgently. What had been going on? They wanted to know.

  Amie sighed, even a short version of events was going to take a lot of encoding. She only hoped she could stay awake long enough to send all the information. She decided to tell the truth, there was nothing to be gained by lying about any of it, except that she didn’t mention she thought she’d seen Simon before in Apatu. She also left out meeting up with the refugees; it would be of no interest to them. She hoped the family would make it to a better life in South Africa, although that was doubtful with the amount of xenophobia she’d seen for herself. She mentioned she’d taken some great photographs but wasn’t sure how to encrypt them to send securely. Could Maddy explain how she could do that?

  It was the early hours of the morning by the time she pressed the send button, and after checking that the locks on all the windows and the door were firmly in place, she finally crawled into bed.

  When she got up the next morning Amie was relieved to realise it was only Monday. They weren’t expecting her back in the office for another couple of days. On Wednesday should she just walk back in as if nothing had happene
d? Or phone in sick? Or continue to lie low?

  The decision was made for her when she opened her emails. Maddy told her to sit tight, they would be sending help and she was to take them back to the bush, back to the same place. Evidence was needed.

  Amie groaned. Returning to the scene of the last few days was a prospect she did not relish. But what choice did she have? She wondered how long it would be until help arrived. She was simply given a coded sentence they would use to identify themselves.

  Thursday came, then Friday and still Amie was wary of going out. She was relieved she’d got enough food in the cupboards to last for a few days, but it wouldn’t last forever. Her cell phone rang several times, but each time she recognized the office number she simply ignored it. It wasn’t easy. Like most people, she was mentally programmed to answer a phone and the constant ringing got on her nerves. She deliberately kept the volume on the television low and blessed the construction company for making the walls so thick. There was a CCTV screen by the front door that showed people going in and out of the building. One morning she saw Sonia ringing the bell outside, so she turned everything off and lay low, hardly daring to breathe.

  Finally, her phone rang with a number that matched the one Maddy had given her, followed almost immediately by the loud ringing of the bell on the downstairs entrance. She pressed the green button on the intercom and waited until she heard the agreed words: “We have flowers to deliver to Miss Felicity Ann Mansell as a late birthday present. May we please come in and deliver them?”

  Hearing footsteps outside, Amie peeped through the spy-hole, and reluctantly took off the chain and released the latch.

  19 RETURN TO THE BUSH

  “Bob!” Amie’s instructor from the Residence was half hidden behind a large bunch of yellow daisies. “I wasn’t expecting you!” Amie was so relieved that, without thinking, she gave him a hug, crushing the flowers to his chest, before bouncing back feeling more than a little embarrassed.

  “Felicity,” he thrust the flowers into her arms. “Here girl, put these in water.”

  “Oh Bob. Thank you. It’s wonderful to see you again – to have contact with another talking human being. If I’d had to wait much longer, I would have gone stark raving mad.”

  Bob chuckled while he paced around the room sweeping the walls with what looked like an old-fashioned cell phone with a short antenna.

  Amie wondered what he was doing but when he made beckoning movements with his other hand, she got the message and launched into a lengthy diatribe about the weather and how hot it had been. She continued to witter on even when Bob disappeared into her bedroom then the bathroom and then finally squeezed past her into the kitchen and gave those walls the full treatment as well. He got his phone out of his pocket and indicated he wanted Amie’s as well. She picked it up from the table and he scanned that too.

  Checking the readings, he smiled. “Seems like you’re all clear, but I didn’t want to take any chances.”

  “I’ve not seen this brand of bug-catcher before.” Amie pointed to the little black box in his hand.

  “I was told it’s a super new machine. I can’t say that all our equipment at the Residence was bang up to date. But it’s given us the all clear.”

  Bob slumped down on the couch. “Ha! Ha! Bug-catcher! Much better description than Wireless Radio Frequency Detector, or bug sweeping device, I agree. One of our operators Peter brought it over from London.” He handed it to her.

  Amie turned it over in her hand. “I can’t believe something so small, much smaller than the ones I practiced with, is so powerful. And you’re sure no one has bugged this apartment?”

  “Absolutely positive, but it’s not all that clever. Not a patch on your smart phone.”

  “No, I guess not.” Amie handed it back to him.

  “No, you keep it. You never know when it might come in useful. That model will detect any illegal spying devices like hidden wireless cameras, digital audio recorders, wire taps, Bluetooth, GSM, DECT and CDMA data, link and mobile network connecting devices, as well.”

  Amie handed him a mug of coffee. “Hope you don’t mind, I don’t like tea much and so I didn’t buy any. I’ve been too nervous to go out to the shops and the supplies are running low.”

  “Coffee’s fine. You know that’s one thing they never mention when you enter the service. It all looks like such fun and full of action when you see it on the TV. What they don’t show you is the hours and hours standing around on street corners, or sitting reading out-of-date newspapers in some cafe, or days in a car just peering at a house they think might be the location for something bad. It can get dead boring.”

  “But you were instructing at the Residency, Bob. I don’t understand why you’re here.”

  Bob paused. “This thing is big, how big no one knows and it was time to bring in reinforcements. I think the scale has taken the Big Boys at the top by surprise. They didn’t tell me why you were sent here in the first place. I thought it was just to listen, watch and report back?”

  Amie nodded.

  “Well, it looks as if you’ve uncovered a hornet’s nest. Back in London they’re not happy, not happy at all. And as we were quiet at the Residency, no new spies to train,” he chuckled, “we were handy I guess.”

  “We?”

  “You’ll meet her tomorrow. Anyhow, it does us good to get out in the field every now and again, and sharpen up the old skills.”

  “So, what do we do now?”

  “We need a couple of days to prepare and then we head off.”

  “Back to the game park?”

  “Yeah. Right now, you can steer us in the right direction for supplies, but it’s best you lie low a little longer, girl. We don’t want you bumping into anyone you know.”

  “Are you paying a visit to the Consulate?”

  “No, I think we’ll give that a wide berth for now.”

  His answer didn’t surprise Amie; they must suspect Simon. Either he was working a side-line in arms, or he was in much deeper. She had a pang of regret. She’d really liked him, and had even allowed herself to feel sexually attracted to him. But that felt disloyal so soon after losing Jonathon. She felt a little ashamed she’d allowed her hormones to take over. She would keep them firmly under control from now on.

  Bob stood up. “I must be off. We’re booked into that hotel opposite the main entrance to the Mall. I’ll be round early tomorrow to get a list of places where we can get stuff. Could you let London know we’re all here and in one piece?”

  “All? How many of you flew over?”

  “Just three. All old hands and very experienced.”

  Amie nodded. “And what stuff are we going to need? A list would be helpful.”

  “I have one here.” Bob handed her a type-written sheet. “I got the hint that you’re the one who knows Africa better than all of us, so we’ll be relying on you a lot.”

  Amie smiled. She didn’t like to mention that she’d only visited clothes shops, shoe shops and supermarkets since she’d arrived in Durban, so she could only guide them in the general direction. But when it came to the bush, yes, she knew much more than most.

  Once Bob had gone, another wave of loneliness washed over her, but at least she had a few days of company to look forward to. She jumped when her phone rang; the Consulate again. They must be getting very worried about her. Was Simon back in the office? She’d love to know, but there was no way she could find out. Even if she hid the caller identification number, she wasn’t going to take a chance they could trace it back to her phone and that was the only communication tool she had.

  For a wild moment she was tempted to go out and find a call box, but it was unlikely she would find one that hadn’t been vandalised. And she would run the risk of someone recognising her. No, she’d do what they asked her and stay out of sight until it was time to go north again.

  The next day she opened the door to her second visitor. Karen was standing beside Bob.

  “Ah! It’s grea
t to see you!” Amie exclaimed as Karen gave her a big hug.

  “Got thrown in at the deep end, yeah?”

  Amie nodded.

  “Poor you, Felicity. When I heard, I wondered what they were doing sending a new recruit like you on a job like this in a country you don’t know.”

  Being called Felicity gave Amie a start. She’d forgotten how much of her previous life even these new colleagues didn’t know, like her real name for instance. Bob’s remark yesterday about her being familiar with Africa was only because she’d already been living here for a few months. Thankfully, none of them had made the connection to her starring role in the UK television series, and she had no intention of telling them, even though they were all on the same team.

  Karen dropped some bags of supplies on the kitchen counter. Food and drink to tide Amie over.

  “Thanks so much. I was beginning to run low, and special thanks for the coffee.” Amie held up the large jar.

  “I remembered how you hated tea, but I bought some so you can make it for us,” Karen laughed.

  “I’m on it,” said Amie going to fill the kettle. “Where’s the other member of the team? Do I know him?”

  “I shouldn’t think so. We only met him at the hotel last night, we didn’t travel with him. Name’s Peter and he seems an OK sort of guy. He’s never been to Africa before either. You’ll meet him in the morning.”

  “Are we leaving tomorrow?” Amie wasn’t sure if she wanted to leave the apartment, yet she was dying to go out.

  “Day after,” Bob replied opening the newspaper he’d brought in with him. “What did London say last night?”

  “Without the coding, ‘Maddy’, who is now in Peru, said that she hopes we will have a lovely holiday by the sea and not get bitten by sharks, and how was the romance coming along?”