‘You already know I’m utterly smitten by her. Please go ahead, I feel I could do with all the advice I can get.’
‘This is probably more for Jan’s benefit than your own – you’re quite capable of looking after yourself. She is not only extremely unhappy in her marriage, but currently in a very vulnerable state of mind. She’s very fragile, Mathew, and if any relationship develops, you must deal with her as carefully and as sensitively as possible.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else, Anna. I only want what’s best for Jan.’ Having said this, Mathew felt a sudden pang of guilt when he thought of how things had ended up with Lucienne, despite the depth of the feelings he once had.
‘You must be aware that in Jan’s present state of mind, what she wants more than anything else in the world is the constant companionship of a man whom she can really love, which sadly has not been the case with her husband since soon after the wedding. It really is such a shame she’s stuck in this marriage to Major Bushney, but I think it’s going to be extremely difficult, if not almost impossible, for her to get out of it.’
That evening, when Jan arrived at the Vaughan-Jones’ for sundowners, she appeared to Mathew to be a breath of fresh air – he wanted to be with her more than he had wanted to be with anyone since his relationship with Lucienne. Her sky-blue eyes seemed to sparkle whenever she was in conversation with him, and such was the effect she had on him that he saw her body language as a portrayal of enticement. The evening flew by. Just before it was time for Jan to return to her empty house, Mathew wished more than anything that he could take her in his arms, hold her in a tight embrace and kiss her delicate cheeks and lips. But he was quick to remind himself of Anna’s warnings, and merely took her hand and responded to the brief kiss that she planted on both of his cheeks. Then, reluctantly releasing the tight grip of her hand, he rather embarrassingly stuttered, ‘Jan, I’m so pleased to have had the chance to meet you. I really enjoyed your company at the braai last night – perhaps when I next visit Salisbury, our paths may cross again?’
‘I would like that very much, Mathew. You must come back to Salisbury before too long.’ Jan looked directly at him as she spoke, her eyes almost misting over with tears of yearning.
The year 1975 turned out to be an exceptionally busy one for Mathew. He spent innumerable hours carrying out his field observations, each evening meticulously analysing and writing-up his findings. He also found time to compile a number of scientific manuscripts which dealt with various aspects of his field observations on the eastern lowland gorillas, and was delighted that three of the papers he submitted were accepted for publication by three internationally well-respected peer-reviewed scientific journals: Conservation Biology; The American Journal of Primatology; and Oryx, the journal of the Fauna Preservation Society.
During the course of the year, apart from the rigours connected with the field work, Mathew had taken on a number of extra commitments. These included his symposium presentation at the university (the proceedings of which had just been published by its Department of Zoology) and a number of talks that he had given about his comparative studies of the Stairs’ and vervet monkeys in the Vumba Mountains. During the illustrated presentations that he gave to the council, members and staff of the Victoria Museum, Umtali’s Rotary Club, Sports Club and the local Women’s Institute, he had taken the opportunity to emphasise how some aspects of the monkeys’ communicative skills could well be attributed to the way humans interact with one another.
On leaving the Women’s Institute, Mathew was amused to spot two quite large jovial-looking ladies standing in front of a sizeable gilt-framed mirror in the hallway, making a series of rather furtive side-glances and winking at one another. Either they were trying out the friendly primate interactions he had just been talking about, or they were practising to see how attractive their respective eye flashes and grimaces could be in the future to impress some unsuspecting male conquest. Whichever it was, Mathew was pleased that some of his presentation had impressed at least two of the audience members.
On 11 November 1975, four and a half months after Mozambique had gained its independence from Portugal, the Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola (MPLA) elected Agostinho Neto as the country’s first Marxist president. Just prior to this, an estimated 300,000 people left Angola after experiencing the devastation of fourteen years of civil war, which raged from 1961-1975 between the National Union for the Total Independence of Angola (UNITA) and the MPLA. Mathew found that both of these pre- and post-independence events, coupled with the increased insurgency from across the Mozambique border, had started to cause Umtali’s European inhabitants to become increasingly apprehensive about what the future may have in store for them. Particularly, what would happen should Ian Smith’s government give way to one dominated by Africans who wanted to follow the example of the majority of neighbouring states that had gained independence from their colonial masters.
Since Mathew’s first meeting with Group Captain Miles Kinloch, when he and Addie had stayed at the Leopard Rock Hotel, he had visited the Group Captain’s orchard estate in the picturesque eastern highland district of Inyanga on several occasions. Their house had become almost like a second home. When Addie first invited him to stay for a weekend as she was planning to make the 240 km journey from her flat in Salisbury, he could not help feeling slightly apprehensive as he was well aware that she would like their relationship to become more intimate. He just hoped that she remembered what he had said to her at the Vumba Botanical Gardens, that he wasn’t ready to cope with any further emotional ties. Fortunately, apart from Addie taking his hand on a number of occasions when pointing out some of the dramatic landscapes of the Rhodes Inyanga National Park, and brief kisses on the cheeks during their meetings and farewells, their relationship had remained pleasurably platonic.
After Mathew had managed to achieve the deadline he had been given by National Geographic magazine to produce a 4000-word article, co-authored with Adrien Deschryver, about the status of the endangered eastern lowland gorillas of Kahuzi-Biega, he was pleased to receive an invitation from the Kinlochs to spend Christmas and New Year with them. Mathew was in much need of a break from the recent intensity of his work, and he looked forward to a period of relaxation with two people he now considered to be close friends. He also looked forward to seeing more of Inyanga’s spectacular scenery, as well as hoping for the opportunity to record some observations on the sizeable troop of chacma baboons, Papio ursinus, that inhabited some of the nearby kopjes on the Group Captain’s homestead, and were frequently seen around his estate.
On the road from Rusape into the Inyanga district, Mathew was fascinated to see how the landscape varied. Initially it was dominated by a scattering of boulders of every shape and size, which all appeared to have tumbled onto each other with some of the larger ones balanced precariously on top of smaller ones, as if wishing to do everything possible to defy the basic laws of gravity. As the boulder-strewn kopjes of the landscape disappeared, the habitat on either side of the road gave way to a mosaic of montane forest grasslands as it progressed into the Rhodes Inyanga National Park.
When arriving at the Kinloch’s homestead, an attractive house of Cape Dutch design with whitewashed walls, a pitched-roof, and the typical triangular gable above its front entrance, Mathew would always be greeted by the Group Captain’s two boisterous Rhodesian Ridgebacks. The dogs had been named Huggins and Welensky after the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland’s (FR&N) first two prime ministers, Godfrey Huggins and Roy Welensky.
‘They were previously known as Van Royen’s Lion Dog or an African Lion Dog, you know,’ the Group Captain was always keen to inform his guests. ‘You can tell Ridgebacks by that ridge of hair along their back running in the opposite direction to the rest of their coats. But don’t worry, they’re nothing like lions at all – they’re very friendly with people they know, intelligent and extremely loyal but, above all, they are excellent guard dogs.’
As late December was in the rainy season, the Falls comprised of several rapids as the fast-flowing river made its tumultuous way over assemblages of smooth-faced boulders, before disappearing under the curtain of the soaked foliage of trees and the ubiquitous ferns of the region, into the long, deep gorge beneath. After which the Pungwe River wound its way through the open plains of the escarpment into Mozambique, before entering the Indian Ocean at Beira.
Mathew and Addie rested on a large, flat boulder close to the top of one of the rapids.
‘What I love about this spot is being covered in that thin mist of spray from the Falls, it’s so refreshing,’ said Addie, stretching out on the boulder. ‘Not to mention the terrible din the water makes!’
‘It’s quite incredible,’ agreed Mathew. ‘Almost like thunder. I’ve never heard anything like it.’ The river was moving with a swift current, passing by the side of them before plunging over the nearby rocks into the depths of the ravine beneath. ‘Look, Addie, can you see those birds?’ Mathew pointed to the top branches of a nearby tree.
‘Oh . . . Yes, I can see some orange and brown plumage up there,’ replied Addie, straining to see where Mathew was pointing.
‘It’s a pair of paradise flycatchers. As well as the orange and brown plumage you can see, they have – look, they’re on the move now, you’ll be able to see them.’
‘Oh, aren’t they beautiful?’ gasped Addie. ‘I could look at them all day.’ As they watched the flycatchers flit to and fro, feasting upon the multitude of insect life that was present in small clouds over the nearby rock pools, they could see how the orange and brown plumage contrasted beautifully with their dark heads, blue eyes and blue-grey underparts. They heard the far-carrying ringing calls of an African fish eagle, which Mathew had first heard with Lucienne on the shores of Lake Kivu. After the eagle’s call, they were fortunate enough to see it suddenly swoop down past them to gather up in its talons a sizeable fish, which had been left marooned in one of the pools, and take it to a nearby rock.
Here the eagle, with its snowy-white head and shoulders, chesnut-coloured underparts and much darker wings, seemingly oblivious to their presence, proceeded to tear the fish apart with its curved black beak. After devouring as much of the flesh as it required, the eagle then characteristically threw its head back to make another of its long-ringing calls, as if to proclaim its gratitude for having been so conveniently provided with such a welcome and wholesome meal, prior to flying off with what remained of its prey to its lookout branch further up stream. To Mathew, the overhanging moist branches on each side of the rapids seemed to resemble a delicate picture-frame that captured the magnificence of the river and its rapids. ‘Thank you so much for bringing me here, Addie, it really is one of the most spectacular things I have ever seen. I hope that everyone who is fortunate enough to come here recognises what a significant masterpiece of the natural world this really is. Quite magnificent.’ Addie smiled, and the two friends sat in comfortable and companiable silence, taking in the beauty and the sheer drama of their surroundings.
The Kinlochs and Mathew spent New Year’s Eve at an informal festive dinner at the Rhodes Inyanga Hotel. ‘This is where Cecil Rhodes built his original cottage in 1896,’ the Group Captain told Mathew as they took sundowners on the hotel veranda. ‘Then they built the hotel in 1933. Look at that view, right over the Rhodes Dam – quite impressive, don’t you think?’ They were joined by a small group of men who, after they had consumed a few cold Castle lagers, told them that they were part of a detachment from Rhodesia’s Corps of Signals, currently operating from its regional headquarters at World’s View.
Mathew and the Kinlochs particularly liked the officer in charge of the group, a middle-aged Scot by the name of Angus Whitton, so they had invited him to join their table.
‘I’ve been in Rhodesia’s regular army for almost twenty years,’ explained Angus over dinner. ‘I joined the Rhodesia and Nyasaland Staff Corps as a junior NCO in February 1956, now I’m serving as an acting major in Rhodesia’s Corps of Signals. How time flies! So, Mathew, which part of England do you hail from?’
‘I’m from Yorkshire, the Dales to be precise, in the North Riding. Do you know it?’
‘I certainly do – I did National Service in the British Army in the early fifties and did my basic training at Catterick, which was then the headquarters of the Royal Corps of Signals. I got to know the area quite well.’
‘Is there anywhere you particularly remember?’ asked Mathew, eager to discuss his home territory.
‘It’s a good few years ago now but I remember visiting Ilkley, and there was a pub I recall visiting in Burnsall, the Red Lion I think it was.’
‘I know it well! They serve a fine pint of Webster’s Green Label. Ah, wherever you go in the world, it’s hard to beat a good British pub.’ Mathew was delighted to hear that this soldier, so many miles away from Yorkshire, had once enjoyed a pint or two so close to his ancestral home.
‘Aye, that’s the one! Lovely little place that was, and fine beer. That brings back some happy memories.’
‘So what brought you all this way?’ asked the Group Captain.
‘Well, I spent the majority of my National Service as a Signalman on active service during the Malayan Emergency. Then in 1955 I answered an advertisement in the Guardian newspaper – after an interview with a Lieutenant Colonel R.A.G. Prentice, at 429 The Strand, the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland’s headquarters in London, I was accepted as a recruit of the Federal Army’s Staff Corps. During the 1950s, there was a considerable increase of people immigrating here for a fresh start and a completely new life – it was considered to be one of Great Britain’s most attractive colonies. I must say I’ve never looked back.’
When Angus finished providing them with this interesting insight into his background, he stressed how very fortunate he had always considered himself to have emigrated to a country that he had come to love so much. ‘For a long time now Rhodesia has been the country that I refer to as home. It provides me with a lifestyle and standard of living that would be difficult, if not impossible, for me to have had I stayed put.’
‘There are certainly many advantages to life here as opposed to Britain,’ agreed the Group Captain. ‘While I miss it in many ways, I never regret the decision to stay here. But now, things are far from stable, there are huge changes going on around us. What’s your opinion on Rhodesia’s future?’
‘What really concerns me,’ replied Angus, speaking with the passion of a man who had genuine strong feelings, ‘is that if and when Southern Rhodesia gains its independence from Britain, whether an African-dominated government would be able to take over the responsibilities of running a democracy devoid of the degrees of corruption, bloodshed and autocracy that has proved to be only too evident within the majority of Africa’s recently declared republics. The very last thing that I or any of my fellow Signalmen would wish to see happen in Rhodesia is the type of chaos and bloodshed that happened during the aftermath of the Congo gaining independence from Belgium in the 1960s, or to experience the massacres and horr
ors that took place in Idi Amin’s Uganda after its independence from Britain.’
‘I agree, there are so many horrific examples of what can go wrong, right on Rhodesia’s doorstep,’ said Addie. ‘Do you think there’s any measures that ought to be taken to prevent it?’
‘In my view,’ Angus concluded, ‘if a satisfactory political settlement can be found for this, my adopted country, its future will rely on international observers ensuring that free and fair elections are able to take place. Also, that once a democratically elected government has been established, it will not be allowed to follow the abysmal example of the majority of other countries who have, since Africa’s “Wind of Change”, gained independence from their European colonial masters. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better rejoin my men in order to see in the New Year with them.’
As Angus walked away, after the three of them had listened carefully to his pessimistic appraisal of Rhodesia’s chances of achieving a satisfactory future for all of its inhabitants, they heard the first chimes of the grandfather clock in the hall striking the midnight hour. Any further despondent thoughts about the country’s future were cast aside as all the guests assembled on the veranda to hold hands and form one large circle, for the merriment of the evening to achieve its climax. The circle closed in and went back out, the dancers swayed to and fro, and some of the party-goers tried to outwit one another by attempting to recall the correct words of Robert Burns’ poem. It was the traditional welcoming-in of the New Year. As soon as they heard the final strike of the midnight hour, they all managed to rather inebriatedly sing the familiar chorus: ‘For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne. We’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet, For auld lang syne.’
It had been immediately after the party’s repeated and enthusiastic rendering of the chorus that the majority of the men had gone around their fellow merry-makers to kiss as many of the women as they were able to reach. When Addie found herself surrounded by most of Angus’s Signallers, Mathew protected her from having to be subjected to too many hugs and kisses, very much as a brother would have done for a sister. After having told Angus how much they had enjoyed his company, and bidding him and his men a final ‘Happy New Year’, the Group Captain drove his Bedford pick-up truck slowly back to his orchard estate, with Mathew and Addie seated on the vehicle’s bench seat beside him. Mathew gently took Addie’s hand in his; this was his way of demonstrating how much he respected her understanding of how he wanted their relationship to remain. During the ten days that they had spent together, they had developed the type of deep friendship, maturity, and understanding that could well have been the envy of a number of their married acquaintances.
Someone Wishes to Speak to You Page 17