The Perils of Skinny-Dipping

by J A Sandilands

Abbey rose early the next morning to let in the cat, which had spent the last half an hour meowing and pawing at the kitchen window. She busied herself making breakfast. The coffee pot hissed on the stove and the toast popped out of the toaster, when Darren’s phone buzzed on the kitchen table. She picked it up and glanced at the message on the screen. It flashed ‘Anna calling’. She deliberated on whether to press the ‘reject call’ option, but thought better of it, especially after the conversation she and Darren had had on the plane on the way back from Gaborone.

  Darren appeared in the doorway, fresh from the shower, towel-drying his hair. She gazed at his tanned torso, as if saving the memory for a later date. He smiled and kissed her, caressing her hair. She rested her head on his shoulder and folded her arms around his back.

  ‘Was that my phone?’ he asked, as she poured the coffee.

  ‘Yeah, but I didn’t see who it was.’ She shocked herself as the lie came effortlessly out of her mouth.

  ‘Listen, I’m going out for half an hour or so,’ said Darren, putting his phone into his jeans pocket. ‘Make sure you’re ready to leave when I get back.’

  ‘Leave? Where’re we going?’ enquired Abbey, surprised.

  ‘Not telling you, but have an overnight bag ready for the two of us.’

  With that, the fly screen slammed shut and the bakkie disappeared down the drive.

  When Darren returned, the bags were thrown into the bakkie and they drove south out of Kasane and along the Francistown Road.

  ‘Are you going to tell me where were heading now?’ asked Abbey, intrigued by his silence.

  ‘Moremi National Park,’ smiled Darren. ‘I have a contact there and I’ve booked us into one of the lodges overnight. I thought a break from Kasane for twenty-four hours would do you good. And, I was hoping it might suffice as a late honeymoon trip?’

  Abbey’s face flushed with happiness. She put her hand on his arm and mouthed ‘thank you’ at him.

  As they approached the Crossroads, Abbey turned down the radio. ‘Can you pull over by the café?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah sure, you needing a comfort break already?’

  ‘No, I want to introduce you to a very good friend of mine.’

  Isaac was thrilled when Abbey appeared with Darren in the café. The two men shook hands and, as Abbey had expected, got on very well. Despite being in the same small part of Botswana for the last twenty years, Isaac was knowledgeable and well informed, reading all the newspapers that customers left behind.

  ‘I heard they’re coming down hard on immigrants,’ he sighed, as Abbey and Darren tucked into their lunch.

  ‘You’ve been lucky so far Isaac,’ said Darren. ‘You never know, they might just overlook the fact that you’re here.’

  ‘Maybe, but I’ve been expecting a visit for a very long time now, and I don’t fancy being incarcerated in Gaborone Prison.’

  ‘So what’s your plan?’ asked Abbey.

  ‘Not sure, but I don’t own this place. I just sort of took it over from the old guy who gave me a bed for the night and then kept me on serving behind the counter. I’m free to leave at anytime.’

  ‘Any idea who does own it?’ enquired Darren.

  ‘No, not a clue. You’d have thought someone would have claimed it by now though!’

  Abbey scribbled down her mobile and office number and handed it to Isaac as they were leaving. ‘Don’t lose touch,’ she said squeezing his hand. ‘Whatever you decide to do.’

  By late afternoon they had travelled the two hundred and twenty kilometres and arrived at the camp in the Moremi National Park. This was a popular tourist destination in Botswana all the year round. Most of the buildings were designed in the traditional African style, with rustic, solid wooden furniture and thatched roofs.

  The bedroom was a large canvas tent, which stood high on a platform of stilts, with panoramic views across the landscape. The change in terrain was startling as the still waters of the Okavango Delta embraced the dry and thirsty Kalahari Desert, creating an amazing habitat of unequalled beauty and abundance for the varied wildlife, some of which were unique to this particular part of the country.

  Flowers and chilled champagne greeted them as they climbed the steps into their tent.

  ‘Cheers, Mrs Scott,’ whispered Darren, as he interlinked his arm with hers.

  They ate dinner with Michael and Mia, the camp manager and his wife. Michael was from Cape Town and had met Darren some years before. After several years of managing a backpacker’s lodge, he and his wife had wanted a change of scene and taken on the management of the camp. Michael had always kept in touch and up to date with the changes in Darren’s life, and was more than happy to accommodate Darren’s request. Abbey felt most welcome in their company and was thrilled when her job and the work of AVP dominated the conversation.

  ‘Do you think you’re making a real difference up there, Abbey? It’s a huge task AVP has taken on,’ asked Michael.

  ‘To be quite honest,’ she replied, ‘I had no idea what I was letting myself in for. You’re right though, it is huge task, but that’s what I like about AVP’s objectives. It’s about being proactive and actually doing something positive, instead of just narrating about a bad situation. And, let’s face it, we all know actions speak louder than words.’ She looked at Darren, Anna’s words echoing around her head.

  Mia brought her attention back. ‘Do you think the Government will have to change its strategy and start culling the herds?’

  Abbey sighed and shrugged her shoulders. ‘I think they may have to seriously think about it. I just hope it’s done humanely, if it has to be done at all.’

  She looked over at Darren again. He was looking at her with a soft smile of admiration on his face. Abbey smiled back and the brief feeling of insecurity vanished.

  As the evening wore on, Abbey felt herself slowly beginning to unwind. The good company and relaxing surroundings eased the worry of the last week, and any concerns she had brought with her evaporated into the night air. After an outstanding dinner in the small restaurant, they escaped the other guests and sat on the balcony outside their bedroom, listening to the familiar noises of the bush.

  That night as she lay with her husband under the mosquito net, Abbey wondered if they would be happy to settle back in the UK and leave behind this lifestyle, which she was rapidly becoming accustomed to.

  They made the most of their weekend away and took a trip down the still rivers and open lagoons. A local guide punted their makoro, and Abbey smiled to herself as she remembered the last proposed trip in a mokoro down the Chobe River with Richard and Phil. She lay back and leaned against Darren’s shoulder as they meandered through the watery ravines, the feeling of peace and contentment from the previous evening having stretched into the next day. Darren also seemed more relaxed than Abbey had seen him of late, chatting and pointing out the rare birds in the trees and rushes.

  The office was dark apart from a low amp bulb burning on the desk. The green leather chair creaked as it turned, partly from lack of maintenance and partly through the weight it was holding. Papers and folders lay strewn across the floor as if thrown from drawers in a hurry. He pulled each desk drawer out in turn, raiding through its contents, looking for anything that could be construed as evidence. He was finding the rage inside of him difficult to contain and, should any unsuspecting employee walk through his door, the sjambok by the desk would get plenty of use.

  He knew the police were on their way up from Francistown. An old drinking buddy still on the force had rang him just an hour ago and tipped him off. Damn that English bastard! Him and his bloody wife. They were scum, pond life. Coming here and turning people’s lives upside down with their god damn interfering.

  A knock on the door broke his concentration. ‘Ja, come in,’ he shouted.

  The door swung open slightly, letting in a shaft of light from the corridor.

  ‘Shut the door, you bloody idiot.’

  A short man with broad shoulders and t
hick arms stood in front of the desk. His afro hair curled tightly against his scalp. On his right hand he wore a gold ring with a solitary diamond in the centre, a trophy from a previous assignment.

  ‘You know the white man – Scott?’

  ‘Ja, I know who he is.’

  A piece of paper was exchanged.

  ‘That’s the site where they’re digging.’

  The man took the paper, read it and then set it alight with his cigarette lighter. As the door slammed shut, the bitter-sweet taste of revenge seemed to calm Mr Permelo’s fury and he felt able to smile. He looked at the clock on the wall. He had approximately twenty minutes to make his final exit and disappear into the bush.

  The weekend passed quickly and, before she knew it, they were back in their bungalow, Darren packing his workbag once again for the next day.

  ‘What about the black magic stuff?’ she asked. ‘Did you manage to find anything out yesterday?’

  ‘Yeah, I spoke to Mr Kobe and it’s not going to be a problem anymore.’

  ‘Oh, why’s that?’

  ‘Let’s just say Mr Permelo got a visit from the fraud squad yesterday and has decided to go back to Durban and lay low for a while,’ replied Darren.

  ‘And Mr Koma?’

  ‘Not an issue anymore.’

  Abbey got the distinct feeling she would not get any more information from him and dropped that particular conversation, only to start another.

  ‘Darren, I forgot to tell you. Anna called while you were away last week. Did she manage to get you on your mobile?’

  ‘No, I called her yesterday. I used the landline at the lodge.’

  ‘Oh, you never said,’ replied Abbey, slightly annoyed that their perfect day had included a telephone conversation with Anna. ‘Is everything OK? With the samples, I mean.’

  Darren smiled at her and kissed the back of her hand. ‘Everything’s just fine.’

  ‘She was totally obnoxious on the phone,’ continued Abbey, determined to make her point, and still aggrieved that Anna had been part of their weekend away.

  ‘You should be used to her by now, Abbey. She isn’t going to change just to please you. It’s just her manner.’

  ‘I’m not expecting her to change to please me, Darren. I just think that she should exercise good manners when speaking to people. It can’t be that difficult.’

  ‘Abbey, I think we’ve already covered this conversation. You’re just going to have to be a little bit more thick-skinned when it comes to Anna.’

  After a short silence, it was Abbey who spoke next. ‘Have you slept with her?’

  ‘Would it matter?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she replied, her voice barely audible.

  Darren sighed before speaking. ‘Yes, I have slept with her. But it was nearly two years ago, well before I met you.’

  ‘Did you have a relationship? I mean, did you go out for long?’

  ‘We didn’t go out at all. We slept together one night after a party. That’s it, nothing more to tell.’

  ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me?’ she said, her voice now raised.

  ‘Because I didn’t think it was any of your business,’ he replied, his voice also raised.

  ‘Any of my business! I’m your wife, Darren. How could it not be any of my business?’

  When Darren spoke to Abbey again it was quietly and calmly. ‘Abbey, are you sure you’re ready to commit yourself to this marriage?’

  ‘What? Why would you ask that?’

  ‘It’s just that you seem hell bent on creating a situation that could destroy it.’

  Before she could reply, he got into bed and turned out the bedside light, leaving Abbey sitting on top of the bed in the dark, his comments and her thoughts racing through her mind.

  Chapter Twenty

  When she awoke the next morning, Darren had already left. He had never left for a work trip before without saying goodbye and she felt hurt, although she knew she had pushed the conversation about Anna too far.

  She rang his mobile. ‘Hi, Darren?’

  ‘Hi, you’re awake. You were dead to the world when I left,’ came his reassuring voice.

  ‘Why didn’t you wake me?’

  ‘Because I wasn’t sure whether you actually wanted to speak to me this morning.’

  ‘That’s just silly. I just wish you had told me earlier that…’

  The line went dead. Abbey could only assume he had driven into an area with no signal. She threw the phone onto the bed in frustration. He was going to be away all week and she would now have to wait to speak to him at length, and she desperately needed to clear the air.

  By the time Abbey arrived at work, the office was already very busy. Boitachello had organised the volunteers that had arrived, and Abbey was impressed with her management skills. Boitachello was proving herself to be an asset in more ways than one.

  It was mid morning when Abbey received a phone call from the estate agents in Manchester to confirm they had a definite offer from a cash buyer for her house. The agent was keen to complete the deal and Abbey knew she would have to return home to sort out the house contents, and sign all the necessary paperwork.

  ‘What date are we looking at?’ enquired Abbey to the agent.

  ‘Well, this guy is very keen and we really don’t want to lose him,’ the estate agent explained with an urgent tone. ‘The tenant has moved out, the survey has been done and he’s already got his end of the conveyancing underway. We can sort out your legal obligations, but you need to empty the house and have it ready for a completion date in the next seven days!’

  Abbey sat and thought out her options. She could let AVP know she would be away for approximately ten days, and was sure that Boitachello would be more than capable of managing the office in that time. On the other hand, Darren was scheduled to be away for at least another week and that would mean leaving before he returned. That was something Abbey did not want to do, given the way in which he had left, and also there was no way of getting in touch with him to let him know what was happening.

  She decided to take a leisurely lunch and think it over. She walked through the town to the Savuti Safari Lodge and sat in the pool bar. The hotel was quiet and the pool empty. Abbey relaxed into a chair and scanned the menu, when a familiar-looking gentleman approached her.

  ‘Hello Mma, how are you?’

  ‘Hello Rra, I’m fine. And you?’ Abbey stood and held out her hand, touching the opposite arm at the elbow, which was customary when greeting someone.

  ‘Fine, just fine. I am Mr Kobe. Do you remember me? I spoke to you and your friend Phil at the Crossroads, when the delivery truck had broken down.’

  Abbey nodded. ‘Yes, of course I do.’

  ‘I have just been promoted to the post of manager of the hotel,’ he continued. ‘I know your husband, Mr Scott, and I just wanted to say thank you, and tell you that you are most welcome here anytime.’

  Abbey was not sure why she needed to be thanked, but smiled and invited Mr Kobe to join her.

  ‘I am sorry to hear of the very bad things that happened to you, but I think it has all worked out well. Mr Permelo has gone now and Mr Scott gave me a reference when the job came up here. I am very grateful.’

  ‘I am very pleased for you Rra, and thank you for your concern,’ replied Abbey, now understanding the situation completely.

  ‘I am originally from Ramotswe,’ said Mr Kobe settling himself into his chair. ‘When I was younger, I stayed with my uncle and went to school in Gaborone at Ledumang Senior Secondary School. I left when I was nineteen and went to the University of Botswana to complete a Business Management degree. I have been here in Kasane for nearly ten years now and this job has been very good for me. I have been able to help my family, who rely on me for money. The farm has had many problems and they have looked on me to help out.’

  They chatted about the work of the AVP and how Botswana’s growing prosperity and political stability was helping to create opportunities for it
s people, mainly by providing schools and colleges even in the remotest parts of the country. Health was still a big problem with the continuing death toll from AIDS, and a high percentage of the population being HIV. However, the government’s pledge to invest money into anti-viral drugs and healthcare was a step forward, but they both agreed it had to be recognised as a long-term strategy, not a short-term solution.

  It was also very obvious to Abbey that Darren had established himself in the town as a reliable businessman in a relatively short space of time, and was obviously well thought of. She felt a sense of pride that she was connected to him.

  ‘Tell me, Mr Kobe,’ enquired Abbey, ‘why did Mr Permelo leave?’

  Mr Kobe looked surprised. ‘Did Mr Scott not tell you?’

  ‘Not really,’ replied Abbey, ‘I don’t think he wanted to worry me. He just said that the fraud squad had been to see Mr Permelo and he had decided to move back to South Africa for a while.’

  Mr Kobe laughed. ‘Ah, I think it will be a very long, while Mrs Scott. Mr Permelo was involved in trading stolen goods through the hotel here, as well as money laundering. Mr Scott knew all about this and, when he found out what was happening to you, he got written statements from many of us here at the hotel about what we had seen and heard. He faxed them down to the police in Francistown and told us not to worry about Mr Permelo, as now the police finally had some proof about what he had been doing. You know, everyone was frightened of Mr Permelo and he didn’t think anyone would ever give evidence against him.’

  ‘Did they arrest Mr Permelo when they came here?’

  ‘No, someone tipped him off, and he ran away, but the fraud squad caught him on the Francistown Road. He was arrested and taken to Gaborone for questioning. As far as I know he is in Gaborone Prison now and will stay there until his court date early next year.’

  Abbey smiled with relief. She had dreaded bumping into him in the town, especially if she was on her own.

  ‘Can I ask you another question?’ asked Abbey.

  Mr Kobe nodded.