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Chapter 29
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Just for two weeks Chapter 30
The one o'clock gong sounded, and Jason led both families to the long table where waiters in white suits and red cummerbunds were serving the guests white basmati rice and brightly yellow curry. It was then self-service from a line of silver trays, each with its own condiments - shredded coconut, green pickles, purple onion rings, sultans, tangerine segments, sliced banana, and tomato. Soft white rolls were brought to the table with shavings of butter floating in ice water to keep them from melting. "You know there's going to be a coup soon," Abdul announced when everyone was seated."But until the BBC says so, it's all a rumor," Jason asserted, smiling to himself at this unconscious borrowing from his father. Jason had wondered then whether his father really believed that the first accurate news would come from the BBC, or whether he had made the announcement to distract the men from their anxieties. "We just need a strong ruler, Abdul broke into Jason's thought. "Someone who c
Just for two weeks Chapter 31
That evening, after Ivy and Grace had gone to sleep, Jason went to his study to read. He started with what lay on his desk, some business journals, but soon he had put down his Reading and was looking in his drawer for something else. The object was a tattered dairy, which had found it's way to Jason. The address on the inside cover was the only bit of writing still clearly legible in Lola's old dairy, yet he kept these torn and yellowing pages and would look at them from time to time. There was nothing new to read and usually he would end up dreaming about what might have been. What might have been had she stayed with him or had he joined her in the city or joined her in Dakar. And then then a door creaked, followed by the sound of flip-flops slapping gently against the wooden floor. It was Ivy on her way to the toilet."Lola" Jason whispered, turning back to the journal and thinking that had it not been for his mistake, had he known, had they known that the pregnancy would not ho
Just for two weeks Chapter 32
"When I have a house it will be just like Auntie Hélèn's," Ivy would say. "Maybe not so big, but it will have lots of art." And there was certainly an abundance of art in the Cohen's home, Hélèn, like Edward, had a collection of paintings from around the world as well as sculptures and bronzes from across Africa. On the visit, as a special treat for Ivy, Hélèn had invited two local artists to the house to talk about their craft. One was a Carver and the other a bronze sculptor. Of course Ivy had been thrilled and Jason had watched the amusement as his daughter badgered the artists with questions. The Carver, a man by the name of Damon, had brought a small collection of his works. The inspiration for these, he explained, came from a great uncle who enjoyed telling stories about his former boss, named Lugard. When Jason heard this he could hardly contain his excitement. Might this be Lord Lugard? So if this old man could still remember stories, that would certainly be very exciting
Just for two weeks Chapter 33
Eventually, on the third day, Jason found a way of walking alone with the old man. "So, what shall I tell you about my old boss, Lugard?" The old man smiled as he spoke. ""Even before the time whereby I started employment with My Boss, Lugard and his Lady, my father was in Lugard's service before me. He was the one who accompanied my Boss, Lugard Borgu, to claim it away from the French. You follow?" "Yes sir," Jason nodded, bemused by the man's obvious admiration for his old boss and wondering, as he continued recounting his stories, how much of his ways had been learnt from Lugard. "Sometimes, he would ask for my advice on international affairs."Jason nodded, finding this particularly interesting, as it was a side of Lugard not reflected in the diaries. Jason laughed, his mind now racing with questions as the man continued to talk about his time with Lugard. As he talked, Jason found himself thinking of his father. The more he listened to older people, the more he realized
Just for two weeks Chapter 34
Jason sat at the Hill Station bar, remembering the night he and Grace had gone there for drinks before going to the Chinese restaurant next door. He remembered sharing hot spring rolls, and each of them claiming to be better than the other with their chopsticks when neither of them could manage to bring food to their mouths without it falling off the sticks first. They had laughed a lot that night, like new lovers, and then went home to make love so passionately that it had given him hope. But that was then. Now Ivy and Grace had left him for a life in England. Jason sighed, pushing aside the saucer of chips and shaking his head to the offer of another beer. Music pulsated from the speakers half-hidden by fat bottles of Bacardi and scotch, and the barmen sang along to a tune that Jason recognised. "Who's this artist?" Jason asked."Michael Jackson, sir," the barman answered.Jason nodded. Yes, it was Ivy's music, although now that he was a frequent visitor to bars perhaps it was mor
Just for two weeks Chapter 35
He had come to his office early that afternoon to evaluate some documentation. After hours of glancing at papers with the help of the view, he straightened the remaining stack of papers and stood up to stretch. He glanced at his watch. It was late and his head hurt: time to go home. Not that there was anyone waiting for him there. Megan was away visiting relatives. Though he missed Megan's company. He did not miss her demands. She was bright but immature and petulant at times. He had begun to wish that she would find someone else - someone she could marry, which seemed to be the thing foremost on her mind. Jason ran his hand over the faded pictures that hung above his desk. Here was an old postcard he had brought back from Oxford with the colors of the Aureole now looking brown rather than the original bright white and yellow. Jason sighed as he put down the postcard and looked at all the other pictures pinned to the wall - the rest were Ivy creations hanging loosely on dry bits of Ce
Just for two weeks Chapter 36
"You know the first piece I read of yours was the article on Seychelles," he said as they sat down. "It was a superb article. You were critical of the organizers."She nodded. "What was the name of that Indian place we went to? Viceroys, or Raj, I think it was called. Something with a colonial ring to it." He tapped his forehead to remember."The Taj.""That's right," he laughed, longer than seemed necessary.The conversation had grown awkward again, and Lola wished the waiter had given them more time before returning to announce the choice of condiments."Mango chutney. Spicy sauce. Yogurt." The man beamed."And Emelia?" He asked."The last time I heard, she got married to Chris and was living somewhere in California. We haven't stayed in touch.""And You? Tell me more about your Businesses, especially your plans for startups," she said, searching for a neutral topic of conversation."Well, I would prefer to tell you something much more interesting.""I'm all ears," she smiled."I do
Just for two weeks Chapter 37
She had said no the first time he asked her to marry him. But when he proposed again several months later, she managed to persuade herself that her initial reservations were foolish. He was, after all, her closest friend and it seemed only natural that they should marry. Eighteen years. She had grown to love him, but those things that she had not liked in the beginning never went away and what was, for a short time, the attraction of his older age soon disappeared as well. Now he was forgetful and prone to repeating stories. In his retirement he spent hours and hours in his men's clubs with his very English friends. He smoked and drank, and talked incessantly of holiday homes in the south of France. He no longer thirsted for Africa. And then there was something else, so small and trivial that it bothered Lola that she even noticed it, yet it was worse than all the other irritations, and always there. His smell. It cloaked the house and seeped into everything they owned: clothes, curta
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