Sunstroke

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Sunstroke Page 11

by Madge Swindells


  Yet I sensed that something was horribly suspect. For three years, there had been no setbacks. The entire operation was far too simplified: no hold-ups for bad weather, no delays through strikes or penalties, no losses through damage and breakage. It was a perfectly executed business, meticulously carried out according to plan.

  Does anything ever go so smoothly? I asked myself. Wasn’t business – and life, come to that – mainly a scissors-and-paste job? Plans go wrong, accidents occur, one spends one’s time trying to put things together again. It wasn’t real. How could it be?

  For a long time, I sat in a state of shock. When I noticed that dawn was breaking, I reset the pin-setting on Wolf’s hard disk and put it back. As I slung my lap-top over my shoulder and returned to the house, I was so stiff with tension and tiredness I could hardly move my legs.

  Chapter 25

  Wolf arrived home at six a.m. with a present for Nicky, which we decided to keep for the party. Nicky was still sleeping.

  ‘You look a sight. What is it? Are you ill?’ he asked, cradling me in his arms. ‘Why so pale?’

  ‘I haven’t slept.’ I told him about Joy’s visit and Theo’s threat to call in the fraud squad.

  Wolf sat down and gazed at me with narrowed eyes. ‘That’s what happens when you try to help people,’ he muttered. ‘I didn’t want them in at all. They insisted.’

  He set about calming me and putting my fears to rest.

  Finally, I said, ‘You’ve gone white. Why?’

  ‘It’s a bit of a let-down discovering that your friends don’t trust you,’ he said.

  ‘I couldn’t agree more. So where is Bernie’s money? And the rest of it?’

  ‘In Deutschmarks.’ He looked bemused. ‘I came out of Yen and went into Deutschmarks. I speculate with currencies, you see. Quite honestly, Bernie’s doing very well out of it. His cash has appreciated by thirty per cent over what he was due. I know he wants his cash, but every day he makes a little more profit. To hell with it!’ He stood up, looking worried. ‘I’m going to liquidate and pay them out. All of them. I don’t need this in my life.’

  ‘Oh. Thank God!’ I almost burst into tears of relief.

  ‘Don’t you trust me, Nina?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course, but Bernie thought you were out of your depth with money problems. It’s Bernie you must explain to, and the rest of them, not me.’

  ‘Bernie’s on edge. Did you hear the news?’

  ‘What news?’

  ‘Johan skipped the country?’

  ‘Johan?’

  ‘Johan du Toit, Bernie’s friend. You must remember him, he tried to feed you raw impala meat at the game park.’

  ‘I’ll never forget him, but surely…’

  ‘No one knew he was running into trouble. He floated his floundering group on the London stock exchange, and absconded with over a hundred million pounds. It’s rumoured that his loot went into a numbered account in Switzerland. He’s skipped to Venezuela with his wife and kid.’

  ‘Good God! When did this happen?’

  ‘The news broke late last night.’

  ‘No wonder Joy’s so nervous about you.’

  ‘Nina, would you stick by me and come with me if I did something like that?’

  ‘I’d stick by you whatever you did, Wolf. But I’d never agree to live in luxury on other people’s hard-earned cash. No, I’d definitely give that a miss. You can never get happiness out of other people’s misfortune.’ I beamed at him. ‘Fortunately such a situation wouldn’t arise. You’d never do something like that.’

  ‘Wouldn’t I?

  ‘No. You’d face up to your losses and start prospecting all over again. With me, of course.’

  ‘So you’d live in poverty with me and start all over again? Remember that house in Namaqualand?’

  ‘Of course. As long as I can live with myself, I can live with you. Oh, Wolf.’ I hugged him fiercely. ‘I hate anything illegal. Apart from the moral issue, I don’t have the guts for it. Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, you’re aiding and abetting them in breaking exchange-control laws.’

  ‘If you think so. Darling, I’m starving. When does Mrs Mallory start work?’

  ‘Not for another hour. I’ll rustle up something.’

  *

  I sang with relief as I made toasted egg and bacon sandwiches and coffee. Belatedly, I remembered Wolf’s immaculate container-business files and the three years of perfect operations. Well, Wolf was pretty smart. It wasn’t impossible, was it? I decided to put it out of my mind.

  ‘Smells good. Jesus! I’m tired. I drove all night. I was so anxious to get back. I worry about you and Nicky being alone. I’ve made up my mind to employ a security guard for the nights when I’m away.’

  I watched him eat. ‘It’s not necessary, Wolf. Brigit’s all I need.’

  ‘Come to bed with me, darling,’ he begged. ‘I’m longing to screw you. Then I need to snatch a couple of hours’ sleep before work.’

  ‘I’ll call Mavis to look after Nicky. Be right up.’

  I was singing, I remember, as I hurried upstairs. Wolf was lying naked on the bed, his penis swollen and hard, and his eyes glowing with that mixture of recklessness and tenderness that turned me on so.

  I took off my clothes slowly, piece by piece, our eyes locked, engulfed by an ecstasy in which joy and relief were equally intermingled. When I climbed over him, I put my hands on either side of his face and gazed hungrily at him before bending over and brushing my lips on his. He was so precious to me, as precious as my son, as important as my own life. Maybe more so. When I pushed him into me, I began to groan and then I burst into tears.

  ‘Why don’t you trust me?’ I sobbed. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about the Greek ship-owner and Torrabaai? They say it’s a “dirty heap” scam. I know you better than that but, Wolf, that sort of talk could ruin us.’

  ‘Shut up and fuck,’ he said tenderly. ‘It really isn’t important. The Greek’s an arsehole. My lawyer’s handling it.’

  ‘Promise me! Promise you won’t take chances just because of our lifestyle. I’d be happy in a cottage or a shack. Anything! Just as long as I have you and Nicky. Oh, my darling.’

  We made love frenziedly, and when Wolf groaned and came I was so moved. We were like two people who had been long parted. How foolish I had been to worry.

  I had hardly fallen asleep when Mavis woke me. I put on my dressing gown and opened the door.

  ‘Madam, what shall I give Nicky for breakfast?’

  ‘Oh, Mavis,’ I grumbled sleepily. ‘Porridge as usual. Do it now and I’ll come and feed him. Be right with you.'

  Wolf sat up in bed and watched me dress. ‘You’re lovely, Nina. Don’t grow old.’ He looked at me so oddly.

  ‘I’m sure it won’t happen overnight,’ I teased him. ‘I expect I have a couple of years left before I’m over the hill. There’s no need to look quite so regretful.’

  Chapter 26

  ‘He eats well. Is this his usual breakfast?’ Wolf asked.

  ‘Absolutely his favourite,’ I said, tickling my little boy’s chin. Nicky gripped the arm-rests of his chair and bounced up and down, opening his mouth for more porridge.

  ‘And lunch?’

  ‘Oh, whatever we have,’ I said, absent-mindedly.

  ‘No, really. I’m interested. Tell me.’

  I looked up in surprise. ‘You think he’s underweight?’

  ‘No, indeed. A picture of health.’

  I stepped back and smiled at Wolf, making a decision to take his sudden interest seriously. He didn’t spend much time in the kitchen. ‘Mince and mash with veg, or fried fish and chips, or stew with boiled mutton, all sorts of veg. One thing about him, he loves his veg, especially pumpkin. Don’t worry, he gets all he needs and more.’

  Gazing at my boy, I felt a glow of pure happiness. Nicky was strong and tall for his age and seldom sick. I knew I was blessed. I was convinced that he was the cleverest two-year-old ever.

 
At that moment, I said a silent prayer of thanks. A surge of guilt hit home when I remembered last night’s distrust. No harm done.

  ‘What about vitamins?’

  I laughed. ‘A teaspoon of vitamin syrup every morning.’

  ‘And then?’

  I stood up. ‘Come!’ I opened the fridge door and gave a little mock bow. ‘The menu is as follows, sir. The Prince of Wales gets a mashed banana or paw-paw or any fruit before he eats his soft-boiled egg and toast. If he’s still hungry he’ll polish off a couple of biscuits with his warm milk.’

  ‘You’re a genius.’

  ‘No, just a mother. By the way, I love you and I love your sudden interest in our son’s diet.’

  When, at last, Nicky finished his breakfast, Mavis wiped his face with a damp flannel and stood him on the floor. Brigit gave him a large wet lick that knocked him over. He rolled over on to his hands and knees and climbed to his feet enduring the dog’s attention stoically, and murmuring, ‘Bad Brigit.’ She fawned and wiggled, and tried to make amends.

  It was late November, early summer, and Morgendauw was ablaze with sunlight. The silverleaf trees were glistening as the sunrays hit the morning dew. Cape robins were making their nests in the hedge and the garden was noisy with birdsong. I opened the french windows. ‘Out,’ I told the dog.

  Brigit rushed outside and pranced around the lawn like a clumsy colt, with Nicky running behind her. It would be months before she gained poise and dignity, but Nicky adored her.

  Wolf nuzzled his mouth around my neck until I gasped. ‘I have to take some papers to the air freight. I’ll take Nicky for the ride. He loves to watch the planes landing.’

  I remembered last weekend when we had gone to see a friend off. Nicky had created a rare scene when we left. ‘I could come, but I’m preparing for the party.’

  ‘Don’t worry. Won’t be long. I’ll take Mavis in case I have to wait. Give her his coat. Sometimes it gets windy there.’

  ‘What? In the middle of a heatwave?’ I laughed at him.

  ‘You know how suddenly the wind can come up.’

  ‘You’re a real old fuss-pot.’

  ‘See you.’

  He smiled. It was a smile of such compassion and tenderness. All the love in the world was mirrored in his eyes.

  I followed them out, doing my mother-hen act, checking that Nicky was properly secured in the back of the Land Rover beside Mavis.

  ‘Please come, Mummy.’

  ‘I have to get ready for your party, my boy. See you soon.’

  I gave Mavis her hundredth lesson in buckling up carefully and off they went, with Brigit cantering along behind. She gave up at the end of the lane and trotted back, looking downcast.

  I finished the jellies and still had time on my hands, so I sprayed the roses. I adored gardening, and for a while, I didn’t notice the time passing. I surfaced later and glanced at my watch. Heavens! Almost twelve. I warmed some mince and mashed potatoes, covered the plate with a lid and placed it in the warmer. I kept myself busy tidying the house and toys until one, but then I began to get irritated. Wolf had been delayed but he should have called me. After all, we had a birthday party starting soon, even if it was only Joy and a few neighbours and their children.

  By two p.m., I was fighting off a strange feeling of disaster. Wolf knew I was waiting. He had never done this before. Why hadn’t he called? He knew how much I worried about Nicky and, anyway, he had promised to be back by twelve. Had they had an accident? On impulse I called the police, but no accidents on the road to the airport had been reported.

  At two-thirty, Mavis rang me from the office of the airport manager. ‘Madam,’ she sobbed, ‘I sat in the truck for three and a half hours. The master’s taken Nicky and gone.’

  Chapter 27

  I parked haphazardly, then forced myself to walk and not run to the airport manager’s office where I introduced myself. ‘Please! Help me find my husband and my child. Perhaps he’s been taken ill. Put out a call on the loudspeaker.’

  ‘I’ve already done that, Mrs Moller. I sent your maid to First Aid. She was hysterical. She’ll be here soon.’

  He was a caring person, but I could see that he thought I was overreacting. Perhaps I was. I made an effort to be calm, but tension gripped me. I could feel the blood hurtling through my veins and my heart hammering against my chest.

  But, of course, nothing was wrong. Perhaps he was waiting for documents to arrive. He could have taken Nicky to lunch. But how could he worry me so? I made an effort to pull myself together and convince myself that soon it would all be over. By nightfall, Nicky would be tucked up in his cot.

  Mavis returned with a nurse. She was still wailing.

  ‘Pull yourself together, Mavis. Think carefully. What did Mr Moller say to you when he left you in the Jeep?’

  ‘He said…’ She swallowed hard and looked afraid of me, which puzzled me. ‘He said, “Wait there.” But, Madam, he carried Nicky’s backpack, and it was very heavy. He had it in the boot. And that leather bag you gave him for Christmas. And Nicky’s blanket. I didn’t think. I said, “Let me carry Nicky.”’ She burst into tears again.

  ‘And he said?’

  “‘Guard the Land Rover, Mavis. There’s been a lot of thefts here.” But later I saw he’d left the keys.’

  As the implication of her words sank in, I swayed and almost lost my balance. I felt light-headed. As if I weren’t there at all. Wolf would never leave the keys. The Land Rover was his pride and joy. Why had he taken a coat for Nicky? Why his sudden interest in Nicky’s diet? What if he didn’t have the cash to pay Bernie and his friends? Was he bankrupt? Had he run away? Oh, God. Oh, God. No! Even to think about it was insane. We were so happy. He wasn’t a cruel man. He would never deprive me of my baby. And what about Nicky? My little one needed his mother. My heart began to thump and I broke out in a cold sweat.

  ‘Sit down, please, Mrs Moller.’ The airport manager pushed me into a chair and spoke to the nurse. ‘Bring a glass of cold water at once.’ He glanced at Mavis. ‘Bring two.’

  The young airport clerk knocked at the door, wide-eyed and scared.

  ‘Now, Mrs Moller,’ the manager said, ‘I’ve put out another broadcast. This is Sergeant Blumer who will escort you around the airport. Are you well enough to go?’

  ‘I must.’

  ‘Check the bookshops and the refreshment bars. Did your husband drink?’

  ‘No.’

  I was almost blinded by tears and my legs were so stiff it was an effort to walk as I followed the sergeant listlessly. We would not find Wolf. I knew that now.

  It seemed like hours later when we returned to the airport manager’s office where officials were coming and going, the telephone kept ringing and the loudspeaker monotonously repeated the call for Wolf every five minutes. A nurse brought me a headache pill and a cup of sweet black tea.

  ‘Do you have a photograph of your husband or your child, Mrs Moller?’

  ‘Not with me.’

  He looked up. ‘Come in, Miss Swanepoel. Mrs Moller, this is my booking clerk on the charter-flight desk.’

  A young woman in uniform nodded gravely at me. ‘She has a description of a man and a toddler who left this morning at eleven forty-five on a charter flight to Walvis Bay, Namibia. Please listen to her and see if you recognize anything at all.’

  The woman flushed self-consciously and read her notes woodenly. ‘The man was tall, brown hair, blond streaks, blue eyes, sun-tanned, wearing a safari suit, mid or late thirties. He was carrying a little boy, a backpack and a briefcase. The child was beautiful, I remember him clearly. Red hair, big brown eyes, and he was wearing blue dungarees and a green shirt—’

  ‘No… No…’ I lurched to my feet. The last thing I heard was her singsong voice as the room began to turn. Sergeant Blumer caught me and helped me back into the chair. ‘Nicky. Oh, God, that’s my Nicky. Why has he taken him? Why? Why?’

  The police arrived. They seemed so young and inexperienced and
they asked absurd questions. Had we fought? Were we happy together? Had we ever considered a divorce? Was my husband in financial difficulties?

  Was there another woman involved? The questions went on and on. Mad questions. Absurd! Insane! Wolf loved me.

  I couldn’t think. The right words wouldn’t come as I tried to answer. My mouth dried and my lips were so frozen they could not frame the syllables.

  ‘Shock,’ I heard one of them say.

  They wanted to take me to hospital.

  ‘No.’ I managed to get that word out, at least. ‘My husband, Wolf, will call me. I must stay at home. He’s bound to contact me. He’ll explain. Please take me home.’

  *

  The police left and I told Mrs Mallory a story about an accident, and she sent the birthday-party guests home. The kids went off whining, trailing balloons and cradling their cake. Only Joy hung around, but I left her to the housekeeper and stayed in my room until she, too, left. Then I gave the staff the afternoon off and wandered around the empty house, so vast and lonely, and gathered some of Nicky’s toys together, but I did not move far from the telephone. Wolf would call. He had lost our friends’ money and run away. He would tell me where to come and join him. We would sort it out together. I still had some money and I could sell the house.

  Meantime, my poor baby was deprived of his mother and his home. How would he sleep without his teddy? Oh, God! Where are you, Nicky? Oh, Wolf, come home. I don’t care what you’ve done. How could you be so cruel?

  I missed them both so much. I threw myself on the bed and lay dry-eyed, hardly able to bear my grief and my headache. The pillow felt like a block of cement. I hurled it across the floor and grabbed another. At that moment, I saw the photograph.

 

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