The Tin Heart Gold Mine

by Ruth Hartley

  The older man wore an immaculate light-coloured linen suit over an expensive pink shirt. A handkerchief peeked from the top pocket of his jacket. He had no tie but its lack added to, rather than diminished, his air of confident authority and quiet good taste. He was perhaps fifty, his well-cut hair grizzled at the temples. Lara imagined that her mother would think him handsome. Something in his regard put her on her mettle. She wondered what he did – what line of business he was in.

  “Lara, this is Oscar Mynhardt.” said Maria, waving at the older man.

  The man Mum says I mustn’t sell to! Lara thought, amused.

  “And this is Tim Weston.” Bill grinned at the younger man.

  Tim turned to meet Lara, holding out his hand.

  “Hello,” he said smiling, “Nice to meet you. Congratulations on your work. Looks good!”

  “Sorry about this -” his hands waved around brushing his clothes.

  “The minibus I was in crashed and in the confusion someone nicked my rucksack. What I am wearing is going to have to cover every situation for me in the next few days – it’s all I have.”

  Lara laughed.

  “Its looks as if it will do just that – perhaps you can even start a new fashion trend!”

  Oscar too held out his hand towards Lara but he also leant forward and kissed her lightly on both cheeks.

  “Oscar!” Maria tipped her head at Lara, “Don’t be so continental! This is Chambeshi not France!”

  “He’s a dreadful ladies’ man, Lara.” she warned with a teasing glance at Oscar.

  “It is lovely to meet you, Lara.” Oscar said, smiling first at her and then at Maria. His rather fleshy mouth was flexible with a humorous twist at its corners. “Tim and I have heard all about you from Bill and Maria – I like your paintings very much. Please will you tell us about them – as soon as you have a chance that is – do relax first – these social dos are hard work.”

  “Thank you and – of course I will.”

  Lara shot him a quizzical look. He did not appear to find social events taxing. She had several different levels at which she explained her art to casual acquaintances. How likely was it that Oscar or Tim would have any grounding in art appreciation? A few minutes, an indeterminate ‘ah’ or ‘ooh’ and the business would be over, but as the bank lobby was so crowded, that brief moment could wait.

  Lara smiled and glanced at Oscar. She wondered why she hadn’t met him before. He was about the age of her parents and they knew pretty nearly every white resident in the town. He wasn’t particularly good-looking but in a subtle way he radiated an energy that made it hard not to feel that he was the centre of the group.

  She turned deliberately to Tim.

  “Why are you in Chambeshi?” she asked.

  “Journalist – trying to write about mining and economic development in this part of Africa. Contacted Oscar – friend of a friend – he offered to put me up and – introduce me to people – that’s why we came – to this do.” Tim was struggling to cope with an over-full vol-au-vent and a bottle of beer. At even the grandest occasions in Chambeshi men drank their beer from the bottle.

  “Oh,” Lara was surprised. She thought her father knew everyone in Chambeshi who had any connections with mining. Why had she not heard of Oscar?

  “Are you with the Chambeshi Mining Company too, like my Dad?”

  Oscar’s face creased in a smile.

  “Oscar owns a gold mine.” Bill interjected, grinning. “Small and defunct I believe.”

  “Yes – worked out pretty much.” confirmed Oscar, “I keep the machinery in working order but the seam is exhausted. It’s not economic to develop it further – it’s close to the Kasama River and is always in danger of flooding.

  “I am busy with other more interesting projects for the area around it. Bill and Maria are telling me how to go about setting up a base camp for a safari business.”

  “Competition for you?” Lara widened her eyes at Bill.

  “Not really.” he said, “It’s a different part of the National Park in any case. In fact we all do better when there are more choices for tourists and we share some advertising and other related costs.”

  “We would love you to come back and work with us again, Lara.” Maria said, “What are the chances now you are doing well with your art? Jason’s left us you know. He’s moved to a bigger safari outfit in Zimbabwe.”

  “If the bank does actually pay me I should be able to concentrate on my painting, but I will need to keep coming back to the bush for inspiration. Would you have me work with you for a shorter time or wouldn’t that work?”

  “You could choose” Bill said, “Come and help set up the camp when we don’t have guests – or come and work with guests at the peak period. Either would suit.”

  “Right, here we go.” said Oscar, “there’s a space. Come and show us your paintings. Go ahead, Tim.” He deftly nudged Tim ahead of him and with his hand lightly on Lara’s back, he steered her through the thinning crowd to the paintings.

  “Ah well -” Lara smiled at the two men, “Here we are – but first tell us what you make of them yourself.” She had become used to discussing these particular paintings at the bank and felt relaxed.

  Tim stepped up scanning the three canvases with quick movements of his head and eyes. Oscar studied them more slowly, the corners of his eyes slightly crinkled, his chin up a fraction. Once or twice he looked at Lara. Brief as his glance was, Lara felt the intensity of his regard and it angered her and made her feel exposed in some intimate way that was not to do with nakedness. Lara waited. Instead of immediately asking her for explanations both men spent time really studying the canvases. That made it feel important that they should each like her work and think it, at the least, good enough.

  Lara, standing behind them, could at last manage to look at the three paintings with a sense of detachment. She had titled the three together “Chambeshi Triptych” and each painting dealt with the themes of Farm, Wilderness and City. Yes. She could feel proud of them but they had given her lots of problems with both the context and the techniques she had chosen. Tim turned to Lara. He said in admiration

  “You can draw. You’ve captured the movement and the life of the market, the animals in the bush are wonderful, and the farmer ploughing with oxen has a very interesting viewpoint. Obviously the bank wanted positive images of Chambeshi. How much freedom did they actually allow you in the way you treated the subjects? It doesn’t look too censored and all three have tremendous energy.”

  With a quick look around to see who was listening, Lara answered. “I didn’t get censored because no one expected me to do anything that might need censoring and no one really has a clue about art or what I was doing. I did get lots of suggestions from Mr Sakala at first. Instead of the wilderness he wanted the President’s Zoo – and the President.” She grinned. “Helen saved me. She pointed out that the President was very proud of the National Game Reserve – she also told me to be careful how I portrayed people – idealism rather than realism would be expected of me – all commissions must be a bit like that I suppose. I thought I would hate it but I enjoyed the challenge and artists can always find a way to say the things they want to in the way they want to.”

  A sudden thought occurred to Lara. She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh God! You’re not going to print what I say in your paper are you?”

  Tim shook his head and grinned at her. ”You’re safe from me – unless your paintings are used for money-laundering.”

  Oscar looked sharply at Tim then spoke to Lara.

  “Helen says that you do a lot of your work in ink and watercolour. This is oil – and some acrylic isn’t it? I like the way you have kept the liveliness of the drawn line – is that oil stick? Even with the intensity of your colours you have a sense of light and air in all three paintings. It reminds
me of some German Expressionists – and the Fauves. Tell me about your process here.”

  Lara had attempted the wildlife painting last because she expected that it would give her the fewest problems but it turned out that the market scene had been the easiest to finish. The scale was human and full of life and colour, but then she often visited the market. Lara needed to connect the paintings to each other with visual and colour relationships. The traditional farming scene had been completely new for her as a subject but she had enjoyed that challenge. The market and the farm related back to the wilderness, but the horizontal wilderness was vast and the vertical city huge. The scale of the city against the farm and the market might appear disproportionate. In the end, returning to the wildlife painting had been hardest of all. How could she make the wilderness fit in with the modern world Mr Sakala wanted to see?

  Finally Lara had resorted to repeating themes in each painting to give them visual continuity. The city scene and the wilderness were connected by the same stormy sky of towering thunderheads and brilliant light. The city and the storm appeared in the distance of the farming scene. The farmer’s wife stood centre in the market with the produce of her garden. She explained all this to Oscar who listened intently while scrutinising the paintings.

  “All three paintings have the same sky but from different viewpoints. I imagined I was sitting on a hill or hovering in the air like an eagle and able to see for miles. As I turn from the south through east, north and west the light and shadows change direction but the rainstorm and the thunderhead are always there, though seen from a different angle.”

  “For the farming scene I drew a farmer guiding an ox plough, his wife hoeing the maize in the foreground. In the middle distance is a combine harvester on a commercial farm. On the horizon the skyscrapers of the city are white against the iron grey of the approaching storm. I was worried that the storm might look as if it threatened the city. I meant it as renewal and hope and thank goodness Mr Sakala saw it that way too. The city painting I centred on the farmer’s wife at the market with the skyscrapers close behind and I did sneak in a beggar, a thief and some street kids though they appear as part of the crowd. I struggled to avoid making the wildlife painting trite and obvious by having the obligatory elephant and lion. I focussed on the way the wild creatures are part of their environment and how the whole environment makes all human life possible.”

  “Well Jeff Sakala is happy with it.” Oscar continued to look at the work. I told him he had done well to commission you. It works very well in this space too. Made for it.”

  “It was made for it.” Lara laughed, “I was expected to fit in with the architect’s plan for the colour scheme.”

  “Was that Ahmed Patel by any chance?” Oscar asked mentioning the name of an architect in Chambeshi with the best reputation and the highest fees. “I hope he was sympathetic and helpful.”

  “Yes – luckily for me – he went to Helen Ioannou to discuss which artist to recommend to the bank and both Ahmed and Helen were really kind and supportive. They suggested me to Jeff Sakala and helped me with my portfolio for the job. I had no idea that a commission could be so demanding.”

  “Ah – Helen is the art doyen of Chambeshi. Without her we would only be a Wild West frontier town!”

  Oscar turned to look directly at Lara. “Perhaps you will make some paintings for my new office.”

  He smiled, “It will be a demanding commission too.”

  Lara smiled back. She expected that she would cope with his commission if she had to, and in any case it would have to interest her before she accepted it.

  “Who are your influences?” Tim wanted to know, “Do you like African artists and traditions? Have you seen Malagantana – the Mozambican artist – and the Nigerian artists like Twins Seven Seven?”

  “Let me guess.” said Oscar, “I think your influences are more European – I think you must like the Fauves for colour, Matisse and Joan Miró for line perhaps? Your use of colour is lovely and it looks as if you understand its abstract qualities. These are lovely, Lara – you must be proud.”

  “Oh thank you!” Lara was delighted, “Thank you – honestly – I really worried that that the work was becoming rather superficial with all the fuss about the bank’s concerns and the colour of the carpet – I worried that if my paintings worked for the bank they would feel too commercial to me.”

  “No, they aren’t at all.” Tim said, “Is this what you usually do?”

  “It’s what I have usually done since leaving art school.” said Lara laughing, “I think it is too soon at my age to have a fixed style or even be sure of where I am going.”

  “We are booked at the Kudu Grill for a meal. My partner, Enoch Njobvu, is already there.” said Oscar, “That’s Tim, Bill, Maria, me and now of course you and Helen as well. Let’s get going. We can make plans to see your studio when we are all sitting down and relaxing.”

  Tim grinned and raised his hands in a gesture of acceptance.

  “We are organised then! Let’s go Oscar!”

  Chapter Two

  Jane and Brian

  At home the next day, Lara told Jane and Brian about the restaurant meal.

  “Oscar and his partner Enoch paid for everyone. Oscar said he was taking Bill and Maria out as his business consultants, Tim was his guest anyway and he wants me to make paintings for his new lodge at the Tin Heart Camp, so I was also there for business. The food was fabulous – giant tiger prawns and smoked salmon mousse.”

  “Are you going to the Tin Heart Camp to make the paintings?” Jane asked, her face unusually stiff. Brian avoided Jane’s eyes.

  “Has a few too many fingers in too many pies, does Oscar.” he said and changed the object of the discussion to Tim. “What’s that chap Tim doing here? Strange outfit he was wearing. Must be your age I suppose.”

  “Being my age explains his weird clothes, does it?” Lara answered, “Tim’s suitcase was stolen off the minibus he was on when it crashed. He’s working for a London newspaper. He is a bit too tall to find his size in the shops here – have you got something to lend him Dad?”

  Unaccountably her father’s words about Oscar made her remember the feel of his hand on her back. She had been aware of his hands again as he refilled her wine glass at the table and offered her the cheese board.

  “At home I like to have cheese before the dessert – as the French do.” Oscar had said.

  Oscar’s hands were not soft and white like Brian’s or thick and work-damaged like Bill’s. They were long-fingered, smooth and hard and moved with an exact and delicate precision. She had avoided looking at them and avoided looking too long at Oscar’s face also. Strange – it wasn’t as if he had touched her again or looked more at her than at the others in their group.

  “Oh I don’t know if Oscar will follow up on paintings for Tin Heart Camp.” Lara said, “But Bill and Maria say I can work for them in town before their season starts – I would like that!”

  Later that day Lara heard her parents arguing. She thought Jane shrieked out Oscar’s name but Brian was making shushing noises so she walked away quickly. She didn’t want to know more.

  Chapter Three

  Tim

  Tim came around to see Lara the day after her exhibition opening. He had phoned first, spoken to Jane and made her laugh as he explained his lost clothes.

  “Oscar’s flown off to somewhere in Europe – long-standing business meeting he told me. But he’s so generous – he’s lent me a vehicle and told me I can stay on in his guest wing. Fantastic – Oscar has a fax-machine and phones that work – I am made – I really am. I get so sick of having to stay in hotels. I can work from Oscar’s place.”

  Over the next few weeks, Lara found that Tim was great fun to have around. He was so interested in everything and was so good at drawing people out and making them talk and divulge interesting
and surprising facts about themselves and their lives and their work. He even increased Lara’s interest in African politics. It was not a surprise that Tim’s perspectives were wider than those of Lara’s parents. Lara loved complexities and problem-solving so when Tim talked about all the confusing conflicts of Africa, Lara could relate them to the problems of development that she had become aware of in Chambeshi. Her commission for the Sakala Bank had been complex.

  “The bank commission I did for Jeff Sakala was an eye-opener for me” Lara said. “What I depicted in the actual paintings had to please everybody from the President’s office and cabinet to the bank workers. There were various diplomats and aid agencies that had to be soothed because the bank wanted their accounts. Everybody’s uncle, brother and auntie wanted the bank to commission an artist they knew who had connections in trade or exports. Luckily for me I had Helen to do all the wheeling and dealing – I had to paint, that was all. I’m beginning to get the “picture” of how things work in Chambeshi.”