Sunstroke

by Madge Swindells

  ‘Living here must be a disaster,’ I called, above the roar of the engines.

  ‘For them, yes.’ He pointed down. ‘Tin claims were worth mining a century ago. Cornish miners came out here, sprayed their seed around. Later, when the mines were depleted, they went home, or died, but the flotsam and jetsam of their brief sojourn lingered in the bays and along the shoreline. The men catch fish, but selling it is another matter. I’ve been trying to interest a few businessmen in setting up a fishmeal plant. At least there’d be a market for the fish.’

  I could see the pain in Wolf’s eyes as he gazed down at the hovels. His compassion intrigued and attracted me, perhaps because it had no place in my world. Until now, the sole object of my labours had been the accumulation of wealth. Wolf really cared and I envied him this quality.

  Hour after hour, we flew northwards. It became hotter and more of an effort to keep alert. Eventually, I slipped into a heat-induced torpor and woke to feel Wolf’s hand gripping my arm.

  ‘Swallow,’ he commanded. ‘We’re coming in to land.’

  *

  Moments later, we were bumping over the uneven runway, skidding to dead slow and taxiing towards a long, low, corrugated-iron hangar. Wolf reached across, opened my door, and a blast of hot air surged into the cabin. Dazed, I stumbled out into a furnace. The game park had been cool compared with this.

  ‘Wow! Real Lawrence of Arabia stuff.’ I tried to sound blase.

  A khaki-coloured old man with peppercorn hair and Oriental eyes approached at a trot and took our gear. By the time we reached the broken-down farmhouse, I was soaked with sweat.

  I examined the two-foot-thick walls, pitted with ants’ holes, the rough cement floor, the old thatch full of cobwebs, and shuddered as a hand-sized spider scampered into the corner. ‘Did they actually make a living here? I can’t imagine what it must have been like. Unrelenting labour from dawn till darkness, just to survive.’

  ‘Something like that, I suppose. Come and look here.’

  I joined Wolf in the next room where old photographs hung around the walls. Sepia-toned and faded, they showed a stern-faced family dressed in the fashions of the last century, the men in shirts without collars and ties, the women tired, scruffy, with shocked eyes. There were some old tins, cutlery, a bucket and a box full of kitchen paraphernalia.

  ‘Who were they?’

  ‘Cornish miners brought out to mine the tin deposits around the turn of the century. This family saved enough cash to buy this land, but the drought and the heat defeated them. They left their possessions and quit. The poor fools. They never knew they were sitting on a gold mine. Better than a gold mine – rare-earth deposits spread over fifteen thousand hectares. Can you believe the size of it? Fifteen thousand! And it’s right underneath our feet. One of the richest deposits in the southern hemisphere.’

  ‘What exactly is rare-earth?’ I asked.

  ‘Mainly radioactive elements, to put it very simply. Substances such as lanthanum, thulium, and so on. Some are used to make magnets. Some are both rare and much in demand. But it will take a minimum of ten million dollars to get the mine to a viable position, set up a processing plant, bring over experts.’

  ‘Those poor people. I can’t get my mind off them. How they must have longed for Cornish rain and fertile Cornish soil.’ I sat on a stool in the front room and gazed out at the barren plains. Then I realized that Wolf was staring curiously at me.

  ‘You hate it here.’

  ‘Not really. It’s a bit remote.’

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ll be back in civilization by tonight.’

  ‘I thought you said…’

  ‘This is not for you. Even I can see that. I’ll fetch the geologists’ reports.’

  I watched him go. Nina, you’re a fool! For a few silly days, I had imagined that the game park meant more than it really had. Feeling badly let down, both by geography and chemistry, I wished I hadn’t come.

  *

  Wolf had done his homework. The reports were thorough. They had been produced by independent analysts and backed by a geologist Wolf had flown in.

  ‘Wolf, this is not the kind of investment my company makes, but I could find investors for you. There’s a couple of Swiss mining entrepreneurs keen on getting into Africa and I know a few of the big guys in London who have most of Mozambique and Zambia tied up. Someone’s going to bite. Would you prefer an outright sale or some sort of a share in the mining operation?’

  ‘Outright sale, Nina. I’m badly over-committed. I have so many irons in the fire, and I have my eyes on a huge copper claim. Let’s go. I’ll tell you about it while I drive you round. To tell the truth I feel bad about this. I hate to trade on our friendship.’

  So it was merely friendship now. I forced a smile.

  Chapter 16

  The sun was past its zenith, but there was little relief from the blistering heat of the late afternoon. Wolf wanted me to admire every damned hectare of his claim.

  ‘Look,’ he said, pointing towards the sea. ‘Jackals.’ He passed me the binoculars. Four emaciated, moth-eaten, timorous creatures were snapping and snarling over the carcass of a dead seal.

  ‘Not much fun being a jackal round these parts,’ I murmured.

  Something about my voice bothered him. He made a heroic attempt to cheer me. ‘Let’s go and catch supper. I’m a pretty good cook. Take one squid, and one pot of water and, hey presto, consomme au Moller. The best!’

  *

  It was amazing to stand at the water’s edge, one foot in the teeming sea, the other on eroded land.

  ‘Let’s cool off,’ Wolf said. He stripped and dived into the white foaming surf. He was a good swimmer, naturally. Wolf seemed to be good at everything.

  He belly-surfed back on a wave. ‘Come on, Nina. It’s too hot not to swim.’ I couldn’t agree more, but my bikini was back at the ruin and my underwear lacy and transparent.

  ‘Too late to be modest, Nina. I’ve seen all of you,’ he yelled.

  I stripped off. The icy sea took my breath away. The temperature was almost freezing, but the water was crystal clear and full of fish. When Wolf swam out to deeper water with a net, I followed him, diving down briefly to watch him scoop up two huge crayfish. He thrust his hand into a hole and retrieved a small squid.

  Numb with cold, I raced back, dressed and helped him collect driftwood for the fire, before jogging along the beach. By the time I returned, the crayfish had boiled to a bright pink.

  Wolf was heating an inch of cold water in an iron pot over the fire. To my horror, he popped the live squid in. The little creature heaved off the heavy iron lid and began to scramble out.

  ‘Damn!’ Wolf dived for it. I got there first and hurled it into the sea.

  ‘Why, Nina?’ He looked amazed.

  ‘If you have to ask, you’d never understand. So let’s forget it.’

  ‘I hate bleeding hearts,’ he told me, solemnly. He said much more about the perfidious English who scorn fur coats but eat lamb chops. I wasn’t listening.

  Wolf recovered his temper, produced a bottle of cool wine from the icebox, two tomatoes and rolls and we dined in style.

  ‘Feeling better?’ Wolf asked. He reached out and squeezed my hand. ‘You’re hurting, Nina, but I don’t know why. I was surprised when you agreed to come.’

  He refilled my wine glass and waited for my reply, but I’m a firm believer in silence when faced with impossible questions.

  ‘Why did you come, Nina?’

  ‘What do you want me to say?’

  He smiled. ‘Perhaps something like this. “I’d rather be with you in this barren terrain than dining out with some eligible London banker.” Voicing the words makes me aware of their absurdity. I should never have invited you here.’

  ‘So why did you?’

  ‘The truth?’

  ‘The whole truth and nothing but the truth!’

  ‘I had an ulterior motive.’

  ‘You’re telling me. Fifteen thousand he
ctares!’ It still rankled.

  He ignored the taunt. ‘This is how I live a large part of my life. I’m often out prospecting, travelling, staking claims, selling them.’

  I doodled in the sand.

  ‘I’m crazy about you, Nina. I want you to know the score now. You see, I hope you’ll come with me sometimes. Could you endure this rough life from time to time? Would you marry a man like me, Nina?’

  I was so shocked for a few moments that I could hardly get my thoughts together. I had longed for romance but only in the here and now. I didn’t want to lose Wolf, but I had no intention of marrying him or anyone else. The concept of permanent liaisons left me cold.

  ‘Is that a proposal?’

  ‘It’s a run-up to it.’

  ‘Make the run-up last a minimum of six months.’ Help! But I’ll be back in London long before then.

  ‘Oh, Wolf. I’m sorry. I’m not being straightforward with you. I feel so much for you, but it’s the wrong place and the wrong time. I love my work. I can’t let go of it. And, besides, in my world one good fuck doesn’t mean a commitment. Living together doesn’t mean for ever. People grow. Sometimes they grow apart. I live in the present.’

  ‘You may regret those words, Nina. But fair enough. I would expect a rough ride from a girl like you.’

  His eyes lit up with a reckless, sexy glow and then came that teasing smile again. ‘What about two good fucks?’

  Suddenly, he was sprawled on the sand beside me. His hand reached out and gripped my ankle, pushing it outwards as he ran his lips over my calves and up to my inner thighs. His lips and tongue moved down to my toes and back up again, slowly, while I writhed and tried to stifle my groans.

  ‘Hey, hey, Wolf. Slow down,’ he muttered. He reached up and pulled off my T-shirt, unfastened my bra and kissed my breasts, tugging at my nipples while he eased off my shorts.

  ‘There’s no one around for hundreds of miles,’ he assured me. ‘Except jackals. Old Piet won’t leave the homestead.’ Then he stripped off his clothes.

  It is extraordinarily sensual to be naked in broad daylight. The wind caressed my bare skin, making me feel more alive than I had ever felt before. When Wolf held me in his arms, it was the most thrilling sensation. Every part of me came alive and clamoured for more. I was brain-dead, just a body of thrilling sensations, my ego had descended to my loins, and like a nestling bird I clamoured greedily for more, and still more. And Wolf, a skilled and sensitive lover, gave me all that I demanded.

  *

  The sun had set, but we lay locked in each other’s arms beside the sea, my heart at peace as I hummed a silly love song. A golden glow had miraculously transformed the landscape into a place of incredible beauty. I hadn’t noticed until now the intensely lovely colours of the rocks, the tiny lichen that covered the stones, the tenacity of life in the face of such awesome conditions.

  Then caution took over.

  ‘You must understand that I put my career first,’ I explained, carefully. ‘My career is my life. I’ve studied and worked very hard to get where I am. I would never be irresponsible enough to throw all this away.’

  ‘Then let’s enjoy whatever time we have together.’

  I can’t say that his answer pleased me.

  Chapter 17

  On my first morning back in Cape Town, I discovered some startling information. The rare-earth claim was extremely valuable but Wolf did not own this underground treasure trove, merely the gravel plains and the ruined farmhouse on the surface. He had purchased the land fairly recently, but the mineral rights had been sold six years before to a South African mining conglomerate.

  How could a man with Wolf’s training and business expertise be so naive? Eventually I called him and gave him the unwelcome news.

  ‘I’ve been had. Shit!’ The rest was in German. ‘To be honest, I can’t afford the loss, Nina,’ he explained, when he’d calmed down. ‘I should have had you with me when I bought the claim. Will you see if you can bail me out?’

  ‘I’ll give it a try.’

  Over the next two days, I persuaded the mining house to name their price for the claim, added on the price of the land, plus a profit for Wolf, and offered the deal to two Swiss mining entrepreneurs I knew. Quoted in sterling, the price didn’t sound so bad. They promised to fly over.

  ‘If the deal’s as you describe, we’ll buy,’ Hans Zogg told me.

  I called Wolf to tell him what had transpired. Now we just had to wait. ‘By the way, Nina, I was about to call you. Are you free for dinner tonight?’

  I was. And the next night. And soon we took it for granted that we would spend our spare time together.

  *

  When I’m happy, my face becomes a mirror of my innermost emotions. I cannot hide my elation. When I’m angry, or depressed, no one knows. Wherever I went now, my new friends asked me jokingly if I was in love.

  ‘No,’ I replied to one and all, aware that I was lying.

  ‘Well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up,’ Bernie’s secretary said, which echoed most of the remarks I was receiving.

  Wolf and I drew closer as we tried the best restaurants, went dancing and endured a little of the social whirl. Weekends, we flew to some remote part of the country to prospect for new deposits. I became adept at putting up a tent, making a fire for cooking, and tramping for miles over difficult terrain. I even learned to shoot for the pot.

  Joy cornered me at dinner one evening. ‘To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?’

  ‘Oh, Joy!’ I gave her a hug, which was unlike me. ‘Wolf’s in Germany.’

  ‘So when are you two announcing the engagement?’

  ‘It’s nothing like that,’ I said.

  ‘For you, maybe,’ Joy argued. ‘But Wolf will want to make it legal. He’s that type.’

  Prophetic words! Wolf proposed the following night and remained absent for days when I turned him down.

  *

  Why do my fears only surface at night when I’m vulnerable?

  I woke around four a.m. and lay awake, staring into darkness, plagued by the suspicion that Wolf had tried to cheat me with the Namaqualand mine. If I hadn’t checked so carefully I might have ruined my reputation.

  ‘Be careful, Nina,’ a voice seemed to whisper in my head.

  I mentally listed what I knew about Wolf. He was a geologist and an entrepreneur. He had been born and brought up on a large estate near Beeskow, East Germany. He had gained his degree and his doctorate at Dresden University and he had come to South Africa to prospect for minerals, hoping for the big break.

  Two days ago, over lunch, I had tried to draw him out. Eventually he had admitted that Bernie was right and he had succeeded in breaking international sanctions by bringing oil into South Africa by a circuitous route. ‘Only for the cash to keep going,’ he had insisted. ‘I really wasn’t keen to do it.’

  But then I thought, Wolf is the most exciting man I’ve ever met. He has a charm that cuts through all defences, but he’s also a very private person, hiding his personality. An undercover man. I’ve tried, but failed, to draw him out. He has been trying to persuade me to look at the old house he’s bought near the Fortunes’. He wants me to help him revamp it, he says. It would be fun, but I might fall in love with the place.

  Unable to get back to sleep, I continued to analyse Wolf. He offers his love with the utmost delicacy, but also with confidence. His eyes beam humour and they tell me that he finds me alluring. Has he any idea how attractive he is with his lazy smile, and his startling blue eyes?

  *

  When I went downstairs for breakfast, there was no sign of Joy. It was a lovely morning, so I asked the housekeeper for some toast and a cup of coffee and sat on a bench in the garden. Too late, I realized that Joy was on the telephone in the room behind me.

  ‘Please…!’ Her voice was hardly more than a whimper. ‘I love you, Louis. Haven’t I proved that? I’ve done so much for you. Don’t do this to me!’

  Ashamed of ea
vesdropping, I tiptoed into the garden and sat on a bench. Caesar was weeding the flower-beds. I waved, and thanked him for the flowers he had picked and sent to my room with the maid.

  When Joy arrived, I saw that her eyes were puffy. She looked sad.

  ‘What you need,’ her chin tilted defiantly, ‘is a trip to the gym. A girl’s lost without a tan here.’ Her pride crumpled. ‘Help me, Nina. I have to go somewhere and I’d really appreciate your advice…’ Her voice tailed off, but her eyes were pleading.

  ‘I’ll cancel my appointment, Joy. It wasn’t important, just research.’

  *

  The decor was silver and black, the room as large as two tennis courts, the equipment new and costly, the clientele rich. Plastic women. Masks instead of faces, cheeks and necks drawn taut, eyes pulled up and sideways so that they looked vaguely Oriental, cute man-made noses.

  Since Mother had had her face-lift I could recognize cosmetic surgery a mile off, but here it was the norm rather than the exception. I watched the women moving in a desultory way around the circuit of exercise machines. Their hearts weren’t in it, so why were they bothering?

  My instructor, sleek, tanned and narcissistic, demonstrated the routine without once shifting his glance from his mirrored reflection. Gold chains sparkled, his eyes glistened, and once or twice he smiled at himself.

  In no time, I had finished the circuit. The tanning beds were unbearably hot and they’d given me a headache. I staggered to the showers, changed, and found my way to the canteen where everyone, including Joy, had gathered for coffee.

  The tension puzzled me, but I soon realized that the object of the women’s attention was the men’s changing room. At intervals, young men in track-suits, towels flung over their shoulders, sweating faces, damp hair, emerged like gladiators into the arena. The women, predatory as jungle cats, slipped silently off their stools to stalk their prey.

  I could sense Joy’s anxiety as she drummed her fingers against the table.