Claire's Prayer

by Yvonne Cloete

  “Yes please,” Naomi said sweetly. Ignoring Seth’s disinterest, Naomi passed the rest of the meal pleasantly, sharing her plans for the forthcoming braai with Claire.

  Later, Tony and Naomi walked Claire back to the lodge. They seemed somehow more in tune than usual. Claire really admired the casual intimacy they had; she felt immediately at ease, rather than an imposition, when she was alone with them. She’d have to talk to Naomi more about how they managed it, Claire told herself. At this stage she could do with all the insight she could get.

  Once inside the lodge alone, Claire harboured for a moment a flickering wish that she and Seth could dive headlong into the easy closeness that bound Naomi and Tony… but quickly extinguished it. She knew that her and Seth’s ideas of what togetherness would mean were planets apart. To her, the natural progression for a relationship was determined by her parents’: they’d become engaged as soon as they’d realised they were right for one another, and had a wonderful marriage; they’d stayed together for twenty-five years. I want that too, she thought sadly, not a fleeting, casual encounter that would mean less than nothing… at least to one of us. In Claire’s eyes, sex was something sacred that happened between a husband and wife – there was nothing casual or cheap about it. Sighing heavily, she stopped her train of thought. She didn’t need to start thinking seriously about relationships – not now.

  She settled down with a Danielle Steel novel – ‘The Promise’ – not feeling ready for bed yet. Within an hour she was totally engrossed in the sad love story. Stopping only to make a pot of tea and change, she continued reading in bed. Eventually, eyes drowsy, Claire glanced at the bedside clock and was shocked to see that it was already half-past one. Snuggling quickly under the covers still clutching the paperback, she felt an undeniable affinity to the young artist heroine, separated from her love by their differences… Saying her prayers, she finally fell asleep.

  Claire woke up late, and eventually jogged up the path about fifteen minutes after the gong had sounded for breakfast. Seth, Tony and Naomi were already eating.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she gasped, out of breath.

  Naomi accepted her apology with a sleepy smile, but Seth only silently studied her, taking in her tan trousers and long-sleeved t-shirt, his eyes lingering a little too long.

  “I saw your light on until late,” he said eventually. “Were you working?”

  Eyeing him curiously, Claire wondered why he would notice what time her lights went out. “No,” she answered; “I got involved in a novel and didn’t notice how late it was.” She sat down and ate with gusto.

  After breakfast, looking much chirpier, Naomi issued an invitation. “Claire, I have to go into town for some supplies for tomorrow. Would you like to come shopping? Or are you keen for more giraffe?”

  Claire accepted the invitation, feeling that variety (of both sights and company, she thought) would be best for her. Jogging back to the lodge, she collected her handbag. On their drive fifteen minutes later, Naomi chatted happily about the braai, describing the people who would be coming. She had just finished rattling off some gossip about a cousin when, casting Claire a sly grin, she added, “…and, of course, there’s Carol, too. When I invited Simon – he’s her father – I didn’t realise she’d be back from America. But I dare say Seth’s mentioned her already.” Leaving the leading statement hanging, Naomi hummed to herself, waiting for Claire to take the bait. It was almost too easy, Naomi thought as she watched Claire’s face out of the corner of her eye, to fish for details like this.

  Claire resisted for as long as she could, then caught Naomi’s eye. She grinned self-consciously, sighed in defeat and finally asked, resignedly, “Go on then – who is this Carol?”

  Flashing her a knowing look, which Claire chose pointedly to ignore, Naomi smiled and answered. “Oh, Carol – she and Seth have been going out, on and off, for about a year now. At one time it seemed to be getting quite serious, but… Well, I don’t know about now. Seth didn’t seem too interested when I mentioned she was back and would be coming. But then with him you just never know. Seth always backs off when things get too intense with the women he dates.”

  Leaving Claire to ponder this new morsel of information, Naomi watched her covertly, noting the confused, unhappy look on her face. Now she could see what effect her information was having on Claire, despite her poker face, Naomi felt bad for breaking the news so tactlessly – although she had tried to soften the blow. I guess there’s no mystery left there, she told herself with a morsel of wry satisfaction. I just hope Seth knows what he’s doing. She had not meant to upset Claire, but she had eyes in her head. She would have to be blind not to have noticed how Seth watched Claire and how Claire’s eyes followed his every move. Yes, she thought, this braai could prove to be most interesting indeed.

  Once in town, Naomi pointed out the stationary shop and the post office that Claire was seeking, and left Claire to get on with her own shopping while she trawled the supermarket. Claire felt quite happy, even keen, to go off on her own, agreeing to meet Naomi at a coffee shop in a couple of hours. Joining the queue at the bank, she cashed in some traveller’s cheques. Probably too many, she reflected later: at lunchtime, laden with carrier bags, Claire took a seat in the café Naomi had chosen. Ordering tea and a salad from the smiling, smartly-dressed waiter, she sat quietly observing the people who came and went. Hwange was a small town but, she had discovered, everything was readily available. At the local book store, she’d stocked up on postcards and a birthday card for Naomi, as well as picking out a new romance to devour after ‘The Promise’. In the chemist, she’d bought a set of toiletries, hoping that it was an appropriate birthday gift. Then, she’d happened across a beautiful little shop brimming with art supplies, and really spoiled herself.

  Just as the waiter returned with her cup and pot, Naomi bustled into the coffee shop and hurriedly ordered the same for herself.

  Noticing all of Claire’s shopping bags, Naomi commented, “You’re a shopaholic too, I see! It drives Seth crazy when he has to wait for me in town. I love to linger in a shop and look at everything even if I don’t end up buying a single thing.”

  Claire laughingly agreed. “Yes – men don’t get the shopping thing, do they? My dad used to drop mam and me off and we’d spend a whole day at it. He refused to join in our ‘madness’ as he called it… although it’s been a while, until now, since I’ve really enjoyed it. I’m easing myself back in!”

  After a last stop at the butcher’s they were on their way back to Impunzi. To the strains of Englebert Humperdink, the trip back was accomplished in record time. The closer they came to the ranch, though, the more clearly Naomi seemed distracted. It was particularly noticeable, Claire acknowledged, simply because the older girl usually talked so freely. Realising that she was probably preoccupied with the braai preparations, Claire thanked Naomi for the morning and returned to the lodge.

  During the drive, Naomi’s mind had roamed back to the times she and her mom had spent hours at the mall together, too, always ending the day with a meal together before driving back to the ranch. It seemed such an odd thing to miss… but they were such special, bittersweet memories now. Naomi’s heart still ached for one more moment with her mom.

  Claire, in her moment of sympathy for the usually extroverted brunette, had had an idea for a far more personal gift. She’d decided to use some of her new purchases to paint a watercolour of the ranch house, as seen from the lodge. The painting and toiletries would make an ideal gift for Naomi. The light was particularly good that afternoon, and Claire worked steadily. As the sun dipped, she surveyed her progress: yes, she was very well satisfied with the poster-sized painting she’d created. She’d had a clear view of the kopje and the house, and had even caught the beginnings of the sunset. In the bottom-right corner she wrote, ‘To Naomi from Claire, with love.’ Pleased with the overall effect, Claire carried the completed article into the lodge and hid it behind the bedroom door. Having a quick shower,
she made her way to the main house.

  Seth met her half way, and she realised with an irritating pang that she had missed him. Greeting him quietly, her eyes drank in the now familiar sight of him. Seth turned, and the two of them walked the rest of the way to the house. Claire took pleasure in sharing the happenings of her day with him. He was a good listener, she thought.

  Seth was silent because he wasn’t really sure how to act any more. When he saw Claire, he felt a melting sensation in his chest. Gone was the animal fire and possessive instinct he’d felt at first – or mostly gone. He’d never got further than that with other women. He’d never met anyone like Claire before: she was lovely, independent and stubborn; a dream and a nightmare; and totally, completely feminine.

  Even though Joseph had surpassed himself, despite being rushed off his feet preparing for the braai, neither Seth nor Claire took in much at dinner that evening. Naomi, still distracted, didn’t press them for conversation. Afterwards, Seth walked Claire back to the lodge again. The moon hung low in the inky sky, and the sound of the crickets blended beautifully with the soft breeze of the night. Coming to a stop outside the lodge door, Seth felt reluctant to leave. Giving in to a strong impulse, he reached up and gently cupped her chin. Their eyes met and held for endless seconds. Claire felt like a deer caught in floodlights.

  “You get some rest now, okay?” Seth said, breaking the silence. “Tomorrow’s party is bound to be an all-night affair.”

  Transfixed under his tender touch, Claire stood mutely and watched him turn and stride away. She took time over her Bible reading that night and then, kneeling, she told God in a soft voice about her day, and about her confusion. She was late to bed.

  When Seth looked out of his window, however, the lodge was already in darkness. For long moments he just stood, and stared unseeingly into the night.

  Chapter Eight

  For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do.

  (Galatians 5:17)

  The day of Naomi’s birthday passed in a daze of activity. Throughout the morning, Claire helped to string dozens of lights from the branches of the trees on the front lawn and brought refreshments to the men constructing the large, raised deck that would act as a dance floor. Later, she watched in fascination as Joseph instructed the ranch hands assisting him to prepare two pigs and a sheep for the spit: the whole, skinned animals were suspended above beds of glowing coals on a motor-propelled pole that turned the meat slowly and, by evening, tantalizing odours of the roasting meat filled the air. By five o’clock, the first guests started to arrive.

  Feeling shy amongst all the strangers, Claire unobtrusively returned to the lodge. Seth collected her at six thirty, complimenting her sincerely on her appearance. With Naomi’s encouragement, she had selected a flared polka-dot skirt and a delicate, lacy blouse, and had draped a cardigan over her shoulders for later. Walking behind her on their way back to the house, Seth had to restrain himself from touching her. She had a lovely figure, and the soft sweep of the short skirt drew attention both to her now-tanned legs and to her small waist. Seth was sure his hands could span it if they tried.

  As they approached the crowd on the lawn, Seth noticed more than one male eye following Claire’s movements and felt again the strange tightening of his stomach. In turn, more than a few people noticed the possessive hand he placed on her back as he took her around introducing her to the guests – whose names she was sure she would never remember. As the sun dropped over the horizon, and the twinkling coloured lights were put on, the whole evening took on a fairy-tale quality. Seth was never far from Claire’s side.

  Then, just before dinner was announced, car headlights sliced through the darkness, signalling a late arrival. Drawing Claire with him, Seth left the crowd to meet the newcomers. Claire’s eyes still adjusting to the darkness away from the party, she heard car doors slam. Sight returning to her, her smile of greeting flickered as the most beautiful woman Claire had ever seen ran up to Seth, threw her arms around his neck and bestowed a smacking kiss on his surprised mouth.

  Claire stepped back, trying to distinguish her fraught emotions. She hated the way the woman – Carol, she assumed – draped herself all over Seth, but she knew she had no right to feel hostile. Worse, the more her jealousy bubbled, the more she resented herself for giving in to her feelings. She shouldn’t feel this way about Seth; she’d prayed again and again for the strength to feel only friendship for him. This, though, seemed to be proof her strength was failing. Fighting down the hollow gnawing in her stomach, Claire gritted her teeth and stood her ground.

  Disentangling Carol’s hold, Seth greeted her with more reserve. Claire, a silent observer, noticed the flicker of disappointment in the woman’s almond-shaped eyes. She was stunning: long, dark, curly hair; a trim, statuesque figure; a sophisticated navy cocktail dress. Looking down at her own clothes, her own figure, in comparison, Claire felt she must look like a little girl.

  Stepping past Carol, though, Seth held out his hand to the man who had alighted from the car after her.

  “Hello, Simon. Good to see you again,” he smiled. Then, drawing Claire to his side, he introduced her. “This is Claire, from Ireland. She’s staying with us for a while.”

  Simon greeted her warmly; Carol, a sulky droop to her mouth, muttered a sullen ‘hello’. Carol clung to Seth’s arm as they made their way back to the festivities.

  Seemingly reflecting Claire’s now more sombre mood, the noise level had dropped a bit as people with laden plates sat wherever they could and ate. Carol stuck to Seth’s side like a leech, and monopolised his attention. Claire had lost her escort, and momentarily stood bereft. She wished for a second that she could sneak off; she could not stand, she thought petulantly, seeing that woman hanging all over Seth. Unwilling childishly to leave Naomi’s birthday or to give in to her mood, though, Claire approached the huddle of people replenishing their plates. Focused on the array of food, she didn’t notice at once the tall, blond man next to her.

  “Hi – I’m Brian,” his deep voice rumbled. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

  Smiling at the distraction, Claire answered, “Hi! I’m Claire – from Ireland. I’m Seth and Naomi’s guest for the next month or so.”

  “I love your accent,” Brian drawled. “Would you be interested in joining me while we eat?”

  Feeling relieved that she’d have someone to talk to while Naomi and Seth were busy, Claire said readily, “I’d like that, Brian; thanks.”

  The pleasant stranger found two chairs, and indicated for Claire to sit. Claire was just lowering her head to whisper grace when Brian closed his eyes and beat her to it. Surprise widened Claire’s eyes. “You’re a Christian, too!” she exclaimed, excitedly.

  Laughing, Brian replied, “Yes I am – and I’m also a youth pastor.”

  Claire beamed. “It’s so lovely to meet another believer. How long have you been in the ministry?”

  Swallowing his mouthful of food as Claire tucked in, Brian answered with an appreciative look in his eyes. “A couple of years now. I love working with teenagers and convincing them that God does have a good plan for their lives – even if they don’t have one themselves!” He laughed, good-naturedly. “And what do you do, Claire from Ireland? And why are you in Zims now?”

  Claire could see the interest in Brian’s eyes: his whole attention was focused on her. He seemed like a very genuine, likeable and, she thought appraisingly, not a bad-looking man. She wondered for a second why she couldn’t feel even the beginnings of anything more for him than friendship – and gratitude that she was no longer alone. She felt so relieved to be comfortable in his company: there was none of the tension she inevitably felt when she was anywhere near Seth. But there were also none of the sparks. Snapping out of her reverie she answered softly.

  “I lost my parents a couple of months ago. It’s bee
n hard… I came to Zimbabwe to heal, I guess, or at least to deal with my grief.” Seeing the immediate concern in Brian’s eyes she added, with more animation, “It’s working – Zimbabwe is so lovely. God knew what he was doing when he led me here.”

  Sympathy had softened Brian’s steady gaze. “I’m sorry to hear of your loss, Claire.” He said. “I can’t imagine what you’re dealing with. You’re lucky you could get away from work for so long.”

  Smiling, Claire assured him, “Oh, I brought my work with me! I write and illustrate children’s books. I have plenty of inspiration here.”

  “Talented as well as beautiful,” Brian remarked, and winked at her.

  Thankful for the semi-darkness as she blushed a delicate pink, Claire stood to take her empty plate to the table. Smiling at her frankly as he stood, too, Brian said, “I’ll be sure to catch up with you later, Claire,” and he went to rejoin his friends.

  Turning, Claire noticed Seth and Carol, under the trees away from the crowd. With him, she knew, she felt sparks. She was infuriated at herself. Why did Seth, and Seth alone, make her feel so much?

  Even at this distance, Claire could see that he and Carol seemed to be having an argument. Though she couldn’t hear what was being said, Claire could see that Carol was very angry, and definitely unhappy. Seth left her standing alone, and made his way back to the laden tables. Claire turned away, determined not to reveal she’d been watching him. Smiling, she noticed that Naomi was approaching her. With a radiant expression, the birthday girl came and sat with Claire.

  “The party’s fantastic, Naomi,” Claire beamed. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “So much,” Naomi replied, sighing happily. She followed Claire’s glance towards the trees where Carol still stood, now smoking. Balancing her plate on her knees and lifting her glass, she casually commented, “Looks like not everyone is, though! Seems Carol finally got the message, doesn’t it? Boy does she look angry! I wondered when Seth would give her the boot.”