by Marian Phair
‘Well I’ll be damned,’ he thought, what a turn-up for the books. Dr Sam’s red Jaguar had been spotted from the air, by a pilot flying a private plane. The pilot had radioed the control tower, giving them the location of the vehicle.
“Does this pilot have a name?” Captain Fernandez asked, reaching for a pen. “Sidney, Sidney who? What do you mean, you never got a surname?”
He didn’t give a surname, the voice in his ear said.
“Have you had a chance to check the vehicle over? Captain Fernandez asked, “You have, well. Go ahead and give me the findings over the phone, and I’ll take a few notes.”
The captain reached once more for pad and pen, writing hurriedly.
“So you found a small box in the glove compartment, and a blood stained rug on the front seat. So what’s in the box?” He asked, then swore into the phone, “well open the bloody thing, how can I write about it, if I don’t know what’s in the damn thing.”
He listened intently to the voice on the other end of the line, and then wrote on the notepad, ‘two blood-stained nipples.’
EPILOGUE
Amie would never tire of this beautiful country. Every day she saw something new, something that captured her interest.
They had made their home, just outside of Cape Town. Looking out from her balcony, Amie could see Table Mountain rising in all its majesty, above Cape Town itself, and the waters of Table Bay.
She loved Cape Town’s colourful open air markets that could be found on any thoroughfare. Shoppers could enjoy the sunshine outside one of the many restaurants, as they wined and dined, or just sat enjoying the view over a cold glass of beer, whilst being entertained by the many bands, street buskers, mime artists, and open-air shows.
Amie had visited almost every vineyard she could find, and had amassed a very impressive cellar of her own. She had not got over just how modern, and up market the emporiums and specialty shops, restaurants, and bistros were.
They had taken many trips to False Bay, where they would watch the whales and dolphins playing in the waters, while seabirds wheeled overhead. Ralph always had a camera hanging from his neck, ready to capture the unexpected shot. She thought with fondness, he would sleep with it, if he thought he would get a good picture.
The weather around the area was unique. They had dry summers with long, cloudless days, which sometimes had, unusual wind conditions.
Hot air blew in from the Northern interior, which was perfect in the somnolent stillness, at other times gusty; South Easters that often reached gale force and lasted for days battered everything. The winters were wet and cool and could also get very cold at times. But Amie loved all the seasons equally.
They had acquired two mongrel dogs which Peter had named Moby and Dick, after his favourite book. Ralph said they would be useful for keeping snakes out of the yard.
Amie sat relaxing in her chair on the balcony, with Laura Daisy on her knee. She waited for Peter to arrive home from his school, with the woman he called, mamma two, the big bosomed woman from Botswana, they had hired as a nanny. It was she who had helped Ralph with the planting of the flower beds around the thick kikuyu grass lawn. The beds were now a riot of cannas, bougainvillea, and arum lilies.
Amie took a deep breath filling her lungs with the heavily scented air.
A snake came from behind an acacia tree where something must have disturbed it from its hiding place. It slithered towards her, seeking shelter under the balcony. Amie watched fascinated as Moby, spotting the snake, crept up on it, and then gave a low growl which the snake would sense as a vibration in the ground. The snake in its confusion, tried to slither away. Moby lunged forward, and nipped the snake neatly behind the head, breaking its back, and then brought his prize over to show her. She felt so sorry for the snake because after all, it was only seeking shelter from the heat, trying to find somewhere cool and dark to sleep. The dog was only doing what it had been trained to do. The snake could have bitten any one of them, with dire consequences. She praised him, with a ‘good boy Moby, now drop it’, patting the dog on the head.
Ralph stood a little way off, watching his lovely wife. Amie was unaware of his presence, being engrossed in the actions of the dog with the snake.
The telegram Millie had sent to his father in England telling him of Amie’s plight, and asking for his help, had coincided with a report made by the private detective he had hired at great expense to track her down. Peter had shown him the photographs taken that day on the film set, pointing out to his father each and every one he knew. Then, there she was, his Amie, looking so beautiful she took his breath away. One arm was round Peter’s shoulders, the other resting on her swollen abdomen. Their happy smiling faces beamed out at him from the photograph, right next to the crumpled one of himself dressed as a clown for Peter’s third birthday.
It had been a long struggle with many tears shed, to nurse her back to good health. He never would have found her or their baby without the help of Millie and Sean.
Peter called out to them, and came running across the lawn to where his mother sat, nursing his sister. Watching his little family as they played together, Ralph’s heart swelled with pride.
When mamma two, had settled the children down for the night, Ralph and Amie, took a stroll through the garden. Then as they stood watching the beautiful sunset on the horizon, he slipped his arm around her waist, and drew her close to him. Tomorrow he would take Peter with him to the airport to meet Millie, Sean and John-Joe. Amie would not be going with them, she had to remain behind. Because any day now there would be another little Newman to care for.
The End
All rights reserved
Copyright © Marian Phair, 2011
Marian Phair is hereby identified as author of this
work in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs
and Patents Act 1988
ISBN : 978-1-908596-16-1 in epub format
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