When he left Shakawe Alex had no real plan of action. He was twenty-eight years old, his bank balance was far from healthy and he had no formal training, no qualifications and no idea what to do next. Another man might have been worried but Alex possessed the wisdom of !Ka. ‘In the desert it is foolish to plan ahead for the desert has a heart which beats differently to ours and the desert is always the master.’
Alex’s future was like the desert. He could not predict what would happen next, had no interest in controlling it and would roll with whatever punches it threw at him. He knew he was drifting aimlessly but, like !Ka, preferred to let fate take control.
There were only two things he was sure of. At some time in the future, he would have his own land. Not in Shakawe, he was sure of that now. But he knew that his own land, his own cattle, his own home, promised a deep contentment, and that this contentment was the future he wanted. But not yet. He had no money.
Marv had been blunt. ‘You pissed it all against the walls of Europe.’
He knew he had. Yet he did not regret one drop of it. Each to his own. It had been Alex’s way to recover and he did not question it.
The other thing he knew for sure was that he was over the hurt of Chrissy. He had planned to make her a part of his future but it didn’t happen and he had recovered. When she died, his future became a black hole. Perhaps that was why he reacted as he had. A man with no future is a man without hope. At least, that is how he looked at it now. But he was healed. Perhaps his money wasn’t all he had pissed against the wall. The pain, guilt and despair were gone. He no longer missed her, simply remembered her. His future was no longer a black hole, it had become a grey area, a blank page, waiting for him to lift his pen.
Fate, or perhaps !Ka’s desert heart beating a different rhythm, intervened.
He was staying with Paul in Gaborone. The capital was growing so fast he could not find the Ministry of Local Government and Lands which had moved from its original cramped offices in The Village and was temporarily situated somewhere in the new shopping mall waiting for the completion of the government’s administration complex, where it would finally reside. Alex wanted to find out how the Bushman project was progressing but while wandering The Mall looking for their offices, he saw a familiar figure coming towards him.
‘N!ou.’
The little Bushman was barely recognisable in his western-style clothes. ‘!ebili.’ His face creased into a smile of welcome. ‘It has been too long.’
Alex was overjoyed to see him. ‘From where do these fine clothes come?’
N!ou looked none too pleased at the compliment. ‘Ntsa,’ he said in disgust. ‘I am not allowed here in my own clothes.’
‘Why are you here at all? Where are the others?’
‘They wait for me in the bush. I come here to do business with the man who replaced you.’ N!ou shook his head. ‘He is not like you, !ebili. He will not go into the desert. He makes us come to him.’
‘But he must know you have to walk here.’ Alex was stunned that such an inconsiderate person was running his curio scheme.
N!ou shrugged. ‘He knows. It makes no difference to him. I must come when bara is hottest and then I must come when !gum is coldest. We all have to do that, all the elders. If we do not make the trip he will not send us the cow hide.’
‘That’s terrible. Who is this person?’
But N!ou did not know his name. ‘It does not matter, !ebili. I am finished my business now. We will go home again.’
‘Where do the others wait? Can I take you?’ Alex was grateful that Paul had kept his Land Rover. Scratched and dented as it was, Marv had done a good job on the engine and it remained a sturdy and reliable machine.
N!ou’s face split wide open at the thought of travelling in a vehicle.
The clan waited for him along the Molepolole road. They were gathered in a deep, dry river bed and hid at the sound of the Land Rover approaching. ‘Come out and see who is here,’ N!ou called to them. One by one, heads popped out from behind bushes. !Ka and Be were not among them.
They had made a temporary camp on the river bank. They were all anxious to get back into the desert for although the nearest village was some ten miles away, cattle grazed nearby and, where there were cattle, there were people. The Bantu often accused the San of stealing their cattle and the clan would rather move on than stay and face a possible confrontation. They were not, however, in such a rush that they couldn’t stop and talk to !ebili.
N!ou was now the leader. He told Alex that Be and !Ka had been left behind many seasons earlier. By now, they would be dead. Swallowed up by the animals, covered by the sand, their bodies would be in death as they had been in life: part of the harsh landscape. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t see them again,’ Alex said softly. Their death was no surprise to him. By San standards they had lived a full life.
N!ou rummaged in his gemsbok skin travelling sack. ‘They wanted you to have these,’ he said, handing Alex several items.
Alex stared at them. A finely hand carved pipe, stained at the bowl and with teeth marks on the stem. A necklace made from ostrich egg shells. He was fairly certain he had never seen either item before. He turned them over in his hands, head bent, fighting tears.
In their gift-giving tradition, he knew these possessions had probably changed hands a number of times before finding their way to Be and !Ka. They would have been of no sentimental value and, if they had lived long enough, Be and !Ka would have passed them to someone else. What touched him so deeply was the gesture itself. !Ka and Be did not collect things. If an item had no use it was discarded. But here, in his hands, these crudely made little artifacts represented love. !Ka and Be loved him enough to think of giving him something that belonged to them, however briefly. They loved him enough to step outside their own ingrained traditions and make a sentimental gesture. They would never have understood why it meant so much to him, they just loved him enough to know it would.
For as long as he lived, Alex knew he would never receive a more valuable gift. ‘Thank you, N!ou, for taking such good care of these,’ he said huskily. ‘You have fulfilled your promise.’
N!ou, pleased to have finally got rid of two items of excess baggage, simply nodded.
Knowing N!ou did not comprehend either the gesture or his feelings at receiving the pipe and necklace, Alex changed the subject. ‘Have you seen the horses?’ He had thought of Nightmare often over the past few years. Against all the odds she had survived to live free and wild. He had never once regretted letting her go.
‘There is a bad spirit at work,’ N!ou said. ‘We have never seen his mischief before.’
‘What kind of mischief?’
‘A small rock which travels very fast. It breaks the bones of animals and men.’
‘What have you seen?’
‘The horses were all killed by this rock. This many.’ He held up six fingers. ‘Some of them were killed here,’ he touched his head. ‘And some here,’ he touched his heart. ‘What could do such mischief yet be so small?’
Alex thought he knew. ‘The stick that sounds like thunder,’ he told N!ou.
N!ou nodded. He had heard the thunder once or twice. It was always in the company of white men and, whenever they heard it, the clan sought deep cover. They had no understanding of rifles but instinct told them it was an evil thing that brought death.
‘The thunder sends the rock to kill?’ he asked Alex, struggling with the concept.
‘Always,’ Alex said. ‘It is best to run from such things.’
‘It seems to me, !ebili, that it is best for us to run from all white men, as we have always done.’
‘Do not run from me, N!ou.’
N!ou smiled. ‘Ah, little beetle, but you are not wholly a white man.’
Alex was profoundly touched.
The clan were heading for Kang to pick up more cow hide. They told Alex that the curios scheme had made some improvements to their lives. Boreholes were being sunk which helped in their constant search for water. A small bush clinic had saved the life of one of their children. Impressed as they were by this miracle, N!ou made it clear that they had more faith in their own remedies and would not go out of their way to seek help from the white man’s magic. They still wandered. They still lived as hunter-gatherers. Alex was relieved. As much as he knew the San had to change, it saddened him to think that, by adapting to the modern world, their way of life would ultimately have to go.
Sitting with N!ou and the others, Alex’s future suddenly crystallised. One moment he felt aimless and uncertain, the next moment he knew exactly what he wanted. Perhaps it was the clan’s own sense of who they were and where they belonged. Alex had no idea. He was suddenly filled with a purpose. He would take control of his life, aim for his goal, and this time nothing would stop him.
‘You know the stone I had when you found me as a baby?’
N!ou nodded.
‘We have talked many times around the fire about such stones. You have heard me say why I want them.’
N!ou nodded again.
‘Where can I find these stones?’
N!ou, like !Ka, could not understand Alex’s preoccupation with the glittering stones he sought. Wealth had no meaning to him. Nor could he comprehend the importance of such wealth to Botswana. He barely perceived that Botswana was a country in which he lived. To N!ou, whose world was the vast Kalahari Desert, who only ventured into towns when the curio scheme required it, who had never seen a television set or even heard a radio and who believed the slim silver birds which flew overhead were his gods sending messages to each other, these stones could not be eaten, used as tools or worn. Therefore, they were of no use.
‘!Ka has told you before,’ N!ou hedged.
‘My father indeed led me to some. He did not expect me to find them, did he?’ For some time now, Alex believed that !Ka had deliberately misled him as to the true whereabouts of the diamonds.
N!ou thought for a long time and Alex waited patiently. Finally, ‘!Ka was like your father. When he saved your life you and he were bound. That is our way. It was his task to see no harm came to you, that is what the Great God wanted when he brought you together with !Ka.’
‘Yes,’ Alex said soberly. ‘I know that. !Ka never understood why I searched for the stones. Even when I tried to explain, he worried they would bring bad things to me. He hid from me where I would find them.’
‘He had his reasons. I think you understand these reasons, !ebili. Always remember, he had love in his heart for you.’ N!ou thought again and then seemed to reach a decision. ‘Go to the place where we camped during the first bara when you lived with us. Look for the three tall trees where we bury our ostrich eggs in the sand. Turn your face to where the sun rises in the morning and walk until the sun is above you and your shadow flows around you. You will find these stones in this place.’
Alex returned to Gaborone with determination in his heart. ‘Six months,’ he told himself. ‘The diamonds are there, I can feel it.’
De Beers Botswana had been searching for diamonds in Bechuanaland since 1955. Operating under the harshest of climatic conditions, with field staff constantly suffering food shortages as a result of terrain more suited to horses and donkeys than supply vehicles, De Beers firmly believed, as indeed Cecil Rhodes had believed, that the central districts of the Kalahari were rich in minerals, especially copper and diamonds.
Twelve years later De Beers announced the discovery of Orapa, a diamond pipe considered rich enough to merit further development. Other pipes had been found before but none with the same immediate potential, although they were impressive enough to keep De Beers looking.
In that Orapa was announced one year after independence, speculation regarding the true discovery date was rife. Certainly, if Orapa had been found before independence, Britain may well have stalled the independence process. Had De Beers struck a deal with the proposed government? Having spent an estimated five million rand on prospecting, it was whispered that De Beers believed they stood a better chance of recovering their money quickly from the fledgling Botswana government, rather than the more experienced British.
Alex knew all this. He also knew that production at Orapa had already commenced, that Orapa was now the second largest known pipe in the world, that De Beers were also prospecting in other parts of the country, including the Jwaneng area, and that this might be his last chance to find diamonds in the Kalahari.
He mentioned it to Paul that night.
‘I can arrange an interview if you like. I know one of their chaps. I play tennis with him. Pretentious little sod until you get to know him but he knows his business.’
‘I suppose I have to get permission from somebody,’ Alex said glumly. ‘Bloody bureaucracy.’
Paul laughed at him. ‘What do you expect? Botswana’s changing. The old days of camping where you like and helping yourself are over. The maverick era is finished. The Department of Geological Survey has to approve all prospecting applications. You’ll need a licence too. De Beers might help you there, they sometimes issue sub-licences.’
‘Okay,’ Alex grumbled. ‘Set up a meeting will you?’
‘An interview, chum. A meeting is between two equal players. You’ll have your cap in your hand.’
They were sitting, as they did most evenings, by the pool, feet dangling in the water. Alex enjoyed his brother’s company, they had a lot in common. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you,’ Alex said. ‘Who took on the curio scheme? I understand it’s doing well.’
‘It was,’ Paul stated flatly. ‘Until three months ago. I’m not sure you want to know who’s running it now.’
There was something in Paul’s voice which alerted Alex. ‘You’re joking!’
‘I’m not. Your old pal, Kel. Timon Setgoma was handling it himself but he carries an enormous workload and he just couldn’t keep doing it. Kel pulled strings with his relatives and the job went to him. I didn’t mention it to you because there’s nothing you can do about it. Timon and Kel are as thick as thieves.’
‘Why would Kel take it on? He has no interest in the San. What makes him . . .’
‘I think you know,’ Paul said quietly. ‘He wants to ruin it.’
‘Jesus!’ Alex said, disgusted. ‘When is he ever going to let go of that grudge?’
‘He blames you for his face.’
‘I know he does.’ Alex slid off the side of the pool and into the water. ‘I’m not responsible for his face.’ He ducked under the water, resurfaced and pulled himself onto the side of the pool again, dripping. ‘Kel only has himself to blame for that.’
‘Yeah!’ Paul copied Alex and then sat next to him, equally wet. ‘You’d think he’d learn but I’ve heard he’s been in a couple more fights. He’s not popular, hardly anyone likes him, he’s a vindictive little bastard, and he blames all his misfortune on his face. He even blames you for the fact that he sent his family nearly broke trying to find diamonds. He thinks you deliberately misled him as to their whereabouts.’
Alex suddenly realised just how determined Kel was. ‘The guy won’t rest until he ruins me.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Well he’s not going to ruin that project. Somehow I have to get him off it before he does serious harm.’ He turned to Paul. ‘I’ve got to find diamonds. I’ve got to get some money together. Then maybe I can find a way to buy him off the project. Timon is a reasonable enough man. Surely he’ll soon see through Kel.’
‘One would think so, but Kel is pissing in his pocket something fierce at the moment. He’s one of the few friends Kel has and I suspect that’s only because Kel is buying the friendship. It’s the only kind he can get.’
‘Poor bastard,’ Alex said, sympathy stirring. ‘What a way to live.’
‘Save your sympathy for someone more deserving,’ Paul advised. ‘He could look like Robert Redford and no-one would like him any better than they do now. Girls give him a big miss. There was a rumour going around last year that he raped a girl. I heard his family bought off hers but the rumour persisted and the girl’s family left Botswana. There’s a screw loose somewhere.’
‘There always has been,’ Alex thought to himself. ‘Whatever’s wrong with Kel has nothing to do with his face.’ Kel worried him. Not for himself, he believed Kel was too cowardly for a confrontation. But the man was obsessed with hurting Alex and, it seemed, not above doing it through Alex’s friends. To ruin the Bushman project was the act of a person who could think of nothing else but revenge. Alex had to find a way to get him off the project.
The next day, with nothing much to do, he went down to The Village. It looked pretty much as it always had except the old District Commissioner’s house had been pulled down to make way for an ugly block of flats. The house he shared with Chrissy hadn’t changed. But in the garden, two jacaranda trees she’d planted near the gate were now so huge their branches met to form an arch. ‘Chrissy would have liked to see that,’ he mused without rancour.
He went to the Notwane Club for lunch. And there she was. Madison.
‘When did you get home?’ He felt absurdly pleased to see her.
She had been playing tennis. The little white dress did its best, but failed to hide her superb figure. ‘Couple of months after you. I missed Africa too much to stay away any longer.’
He bought her a beer. ‘What have you been up to?’
‘I’ve been helping Mummy. She had to run the farm on her own.’
‘Are you going back to Ghanzi?’
She shook her head and he watched the silky black hair swing. ‘The farm’s been sold. My mother is moving to Gabs. I start back with Game Department next month. How about you?’
He told her about his plan. ‘I want my own farm. This is the only way I can think of getting enough money.’
‘Diamonds,’ she mused. ‘Are you sure you’ll find them?’
He nodded. ‘I am this time. Marv and I found a few but we were looking in the wrong place. They’re there, Madison. This time I can feel it.’
She grinned. ‘I’ve heard of gold fever. Diamonds must have the same effect.’
He sipped his beer. ‘The San have told me where to look before but I don’t think !Ka actually wanted me to find them. He worried that I would become restless.’ He could see she didn’t understand. ‘Restless men destroy themselves,’ he explained. ‘At least, that is what !Ka believed.’
‘What changed his mind?’
‘He’s dead,’ Alex said, stating the fact simply the way !Ka might have done. ‘Another man has given me new directions. He probably believes the same as !Ka but he doesn’t love me the way !Ka did.’
She touched his arm sympathetically. ‘I’m sorry.’
He smiled at her. ‘I’m sorry too,’ he admitted. ‘But !Ka would not want me to grieve. He taught me so many things and I came to love and respect him.’ He smiled again. ‘I’m trying to accept his death the San way.’
‘What way is that?’
‘The inevitability of death is no surprise. What is the point of sorrow over a departed one when that person has lived a full life? Instead of grief, isn’t it better to wish them a happy passage into the spirit world?’
She looked into his eyes. She saw only calm peace. ‘Looks like you’re succeeding,’ she commented.
‘I have to work at it.’
‘When do you leave for the desert?’
‘Couple of days. I’ve got to see De Beers. I need a prospecting licence.’
‘Alex?’
He saw the request written on her face. ‘No.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean, “no”?’
‘No, you can’t come with me.’
‘Why not?’
Stubborn. Alex knew stubborn when he saw it. ‘I’ve got hardly any money. I’ll be living rough. It’s summer. The desert is no place for a woman.’ Shit! I should never have said that.
‘The kitchen sink syndrome!’ she said sarcastically. ‘Somehow I expected better than that from you.’
He held up his hands. ‘Sorry, Madison. It’s just that it’s hell in the desert in summer and it’s bloody hard work. Besides . . .’ he grinned at her, ‘I can’t see you eating snakes.’
‘I love snake. Spit roasted with a little red wine marinade they’re delicious.’
He laughed with her. Then, ‘There is absolutely no way you can come with me. That’s final.’
The next morning Alex went to see Paul’s contact at De Beers. ‘Be humble,’ Paul advised. ‘Tim’s okay but he likes to be on top.’
‘Fuck him,’ Alex growled, irritated at the need to grovel, and suffering slightly from last night’s reunion with Madison. She was the first woman he ever met who could drink him under the table. But he was sufficiently humble for the man to make an offer.
‘We would be prepared to finance an expedition,’ Tim Boland told him. ‘But not south of Jwaneng. If you insist on looking there you’re on your own.’
Alex didn’t like him. From his meticulously combed hair, to his immaculate shirt with broad blue and white stripes and exaggeratedly large white collar, to the sharp creases in his grey trousers, he represented bureaucracy, authority and expatriate self importance, all things he didn’t like about the new Botswana.
‘Your guys are looking in the wrong place. Diamonds are there but further south.’
‘What makes you so sure?’ Brown eyes raked over Alex’s faded khaki shirt and trousers. A professionally detached smile slid from the side of Boland’s mouth and drained away in his cheek.
Alex knew he was about to sound gauche. ‘The San told me.’
The man shrugged, dismissing the Bushmen’s store of knowledge. ‘Our geologists tell us differently.’
‘They’re wrong.’ The arrogance annoyed him. !Ka’s experience was worth a zillion geologists. Then he smiled inwardly at his own arrogance. ‘Well, I believe they’re wrong anyway,’ he amended. Be humble.
‘Please yourself.’ Papers were shuffled. ‘If you insist on looking south of Jwaneng I can probably arrange for some equipment and a licence, that’s all.’
Alex tried to thank him but he shook his head. ‘Forget it. I’m not giving you much.’
‘Why are you helping me at all?’ Compared to the qualified men Tim Boland had at his disposal, Alex must have appeared to be nothing more than a rank amateur.
‘Why?’ Manicured fingernails tapped the glass-topped desk and suddenly a real smile escaped, giving him a boyish look. ‘I’ll tell you why. You know nothing about diamonds, you know nothing about kimberlite pipes, you know nothing about prospecting. You’ve probably never heard of ultrabasic rocks, I’ll lay odds you don’t know the chemical composition of diamonds and you probably think adamantine lustre is what Eve got after sex.’ He took a breath and carried on. ‘In short, you’re enthusiastically ignorant, blissfully untrained, confidently inexperienced and persistently stubborn. Frankly, you’re just the kind of lucky bastard who will find diamonds.’ Tim Boland laughed suddenly. ‘Don’t mind me. I’ve been in this business a long time. I’ve seen brilliant men work all their lives and find nothing. Then along comes a happy-go-lucky sod like you and stumbles over another Kohinoor. You’ll get as much equipment as I can spare. If you’re determined to kill yourself out there you might as well have some comfort.’
He rose. The interview was over. ‘Just one thing,’ he went on as they walked towards his office door, ‘if, by any stroke of luck you find anything, don’t even think of not letting us know. We’ll find out. Then we’ll find you. Then we’ll shit on you from such a dizzy height we’ll flatten you. Anything you find will belong jointly to De Beers and the Botswana government. You’d do well to bear that in mind. You find it, we’ll pay you well. That’s the deal.’
‘I don’t want to steal anything, I never did. I just want to make enough to kick start a farm. Then I’m out of your hair.’
‘I hope you find something, son, I really do. I’ve heard about you. You certainly don’t give up.’ Boland favoured him with another real smile. ‘I guess you’d also like to prove yourself right and the professionals wrong?’
Alex laughed. ‘Probably. I believe the Bushmen. I think they’re smarter than you.’
‘So do I, son,’ Tim Boland said quietly. ‘But for Christ’s sake, don’t tell the boffins I said so.’
Suddenly Alex liked him. He liked him even more when, two days later, he picked up the licence and equipment. Tim Boland had been as good as his word. The items provided by De Beers consisted of basic tools and a fully equipped tented camp kit. He had three big tents, two canvas washstands, tables, chairs, a kerosene refrigerator, canvas camp stretchers, gas lights, cooking utensils, mugs and plastic plates. ‘!Ka would disown me,’ Alex thought. It was luxury.
In addition to camping equipment, Boland had thrown in axes, shovels, sieves, mosquito coils, gas cylinders and water containers. He also supplied over 200 professional sample bags, tagged and ready to use, plus a couple of strange metal pots called soil splitters onto which the bags fitted. Soil samples taken were tipped into the pot and a special zigzag-shaped bar directed fifty per cent of the sample into the bag and the rest back onto the ground. Each bag held no more than twelve pounds of soil. Compared to the hessian sacks he and Marv used to heft around, this made the task of sample handling so much easier.
By the time he had packed the Land Rover with camping equipment there was barely enough room for Alex to squeeze in behind the steering wheel. Paul, who helped him, stood back. ‘There’s one glaring omission,’ he said wryly, looking at the overloaded vehicle.
‘What?’ Alex literally punched the last tent into the back and slammed the door shut.
‘Food.’
‘Don’t need food.’ Alex looked at his watch. It would take about six hours to reach the place N!ou told him to look.
‘That makes you reasonably unique,’ Paul said mildly.
A vehicle pulled up outside the front gate. They heard a door slam and then light footsteps. ‘Looks like you could use some extra space,’ she grinned, leaning over the gate.
She was dressed for the bush. Khaki shorts and shirt, a bush hat and snake boots. She also had a look on her face Alex didn’t like. ‘I told you, Madison, you can’t come with me.’
She gave an elaborate shrug. ‘You can’t stop me.’
He walked to her. ‘You’ll only get in the way.’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’
Paul cleared his throat. Alex remembered his manners and introduced Madison to Paul. ‘Excuse us a minute, Madison, we’ll be right back.’ Paul dragged Alex inside.
‘Are you insane?’ he said, when they were out of earshot. ‘She’s stunning.’
‘She’s a woman.’
‘Ten points for noticing.’
Alex grinned. ‘I mean, you idiot, the Kalahari is no place for her.’
‘She looks pretty determined.’
‘Yeah!’ Alex looked worried. ‘That’s Madison for you.’
‘Want to know what I think?’
‘No.’
Paul told him anyway. ‘If you leave her here, my dear brother, when she is so obviously keen to go with you, then a man in a white coat will come and take you away.’
Alex sighed. ‘She’ll get in the way.’
Paul smiled. ‘So? Let her. I can’t think of a more delightful obstruction.’
Madison poked her head around the door. ‘Am I coming or not?’
‘Very well,’ Alex snapped ungraciously. ‘Come if you must. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
Behind him Paul muttered something about blind as well as stupid but Alex ignored him.
He pushed her hard. He wanted her to get fed up and leave. He genuinely believed she was not physically equipped for such hard labour in such trying conditions. But she doggedly refused to give in, toiling alongside him in the heat and sand.
‘Admit it, Madison. You’re done in.’ She was lying flat on her face in the scant shade of a thorn tree.
She raised her head. Sweat scribbled crazy lines down the grime on her face. ‘No.’ They had water but only for drinking.
‘Why are you doing this?’ He was leaning back against the tree, more tired than he ever remembered. They had been digging and sieving for five days.
She managed a crooked smile. ‘Fun,’ she croaked. He realised she was more than exhausted; she was dangerously close to being dehydrated. He dragged himself up and got her some water. ‘Sit up.’ Sitting behind her he put his arms around her and she leaned back into him and drank from the cup. Her hair tickled his nose. ‘Better?’ he asked.
‘Thanks.’ She didn’t move away so he sat with his arms around her and rested his chin on her head.
‘You’re crazy, you know that?’
She moved away finally and turned to face him. ‘It’s too hot to sit like that.’
‘Give in yet?’
‘Why do you expect me to give in?’
He thought about it for a while. ‘Because you’re Madison Carter, I guess.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Don’t get mad.’
‘I’m not mad.’ She clipped her words when she was angry, he’d learned.
‘Look, Madison, you grew up wrapped in air-conditioning and cotton wool. You didn’t have to lift a finger if you didn’t want to. You don’t have that tough edge because you’ve never needed it. This is killing you and you’re too stubborn to admit it.’
She scrambled up and stood, hands on hips, glaring down at him. ‘Get off your arse, Theron, there’s work to be done.’ She tramped off to where they had been collecting sand.
He shook his head and followed her. She had to be crazy. But he bent his back to the task, merely commenting, ‘The cats are back.’
She didn’t even glance to where the lions lay. They arrived every afternoon, one male and three females, and took refuge from the heat under the vehicles. From there they indolently observed Alex and Madison, never approaching them, simply watching. They were like oversized house cats and just as elegantly indifferent.
‘Sorry,’ he said. He knew she would ignore him until he apologised.
‘You . . .’ she said through gritted teeth, ‘. . . have a hell of a lot to learn about women.’ She passed him a sample bag.
‘Oh yeah?’ he replied, hot and irritated. ‘I suppose you think you can teach me.’
She flung the sample bag down, making him spill the sand he was pouring into it. ‘Grow up, Madison, for Christ’s sake.’
‘Piss off,’ she hissed at him. She turned on her heel and headed towards her tent. The big black-maned lion growled a warning as she passed. ‘And you can piss off too,’ she growled back. The tent flap snapped shut as effectively as a slammed door.
Alex stared down at the spilled sand. Something glinted up at him. Bending, he picked it out of the sand and held it to the sky. It was a small, worn garnet crystal. He pushed his finger through the sample. ‘Christ!’ he shouted. ‘Madison, come and see this.’
Working a planned grid, they began to find indicators in all their samples. At first, no more than a dozen in each but, as they worked their grid further away from the tents, there were hundreds and then thousands of broken and worn garnets and ilmenites appearing in each sample.
‘We’ll have to dig inspection pits,’ Alex said, after counting five consecutive samples, each carrying in excess of 1500 indicators.
‘How deep?’ Madison wiped sweat.
‘Until we hit the gravel.’ Alex pulled a face. ‘It won’t be easy but that’s where the diamonds are.’
‘That could be thirty feet down.’
‘We have to try.’
She groaned.
‘No-one’s forcing you to stay.’
‘Will you stop that,’ she yelled at him. ‘Have you any idea how bloody insulting it is to have you continually trying to get rid of me?’
‘Have you any idea how bloody frustrating it is to watch you work yourself into a stupor each day out of nothing more than pride?’ he yelled back. ‘For God’s sake, Madison, I’m not trying to get rid of you, I care about you. You’ve earned your keep. If I find anything you’ll get half.’
‘Is that what you think?’ She bit off each word. ‘That I’m in this for the money? Is that it?’
‘Why else would you be suffering out here every day? It’s why I’m doing it.’
Her eyes glinted angrily. ‘My job starts next week. I’ll leave at the weekend. I don’t want half. Keep your bloody money, it’s all you care about.’
‘That’s not fair. Look, I’m sorry. I can see how exhausted you are.’ Angry eyes stared through him. ‘Ah, to hell with it. Do what you like, you will anyway.’
He knew their constant bickering was due to frustration at not finding diamonds and the intensely uncomfortable living conditions. Even so, he could have done without it and looked forward to Saturday when she returned to Gaborone.
They didn’t fight all the time. In the cool of the evenings, watching the stars or, on a couple of occasions, stunning lightning storms, they found peace with each other and their environment. Madison, he discovered, was one of those rare people who didn’t try to fill silences with words. She was comfortable with her own thoughts and happy to leave him to his. And she never asked what he was thinking. He liked that.
‘A man’s thoughts belong to him alone. To ask what he thinks is very rude. He may not wish to tell you and then he must lie. Lying makes him uncomfortable. Good friends should not do this to each other.’ Out here, under the stars, it was easy to remember the words of !Ka. He often shared those memories with Madison and she listened. In the silence of the desert, he could feel her interest.
Two days before she left, they found diamonds. They were sitting facing each other, sifting through samples. More to keep their minds off the heat than anything else, Alex asked, ‘Why did you fall out with your father?’
She rattled her sieve. ‘You don’t want to know.’
Alex looked at her head bent over the sieve. She had one of his handkerchiefs tied around her head, keeping her hair back from her face. She looked like a gypsy. ‘Yes I do.’ He found he did. He was learning a great deal about her but he had the feeling she was hiding something.
She carefully put down the sieve. Raising her eyes to his he saw fear. ‘What is it, Madison?’ he asked gently.
‘It’s between him and me.’ She ran her fingers through the sand in the sieve, took a deep breath and said, ‘Oh to hell with it, you might as well know.’
‘Only if you want to tell me.’
Her eyes searched his. ‘I tried to tell you once before. The day you told me you wanted to marry Chrissy.’
He remembered. ‘You were as jumpy as a cat that day. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong but I had the feeling I had hurt you somehow.’
She gave a lopsided grin. ‘I probably had it coming. I behaved like a bitch that night we . . . well, you know.’
‘Made love?’ He looked at her soberly. ‘You were bloody horrible afterwards.’ He hesitated. ‘I did hurt you, didn’t I? Talk to me, Madison. What did I do?’
Her eyes were still searching his. She wanted reassurance but he didn’t know why. So he said, ‘I would never knowingly hurt you. Back then, that night, it was just so good. I’d always been attracted to you but I always seemed to make you angry. When we had that fight after being so . . . well . . . close I just figured I’d never be able to please you.’
She worried a chipped fingernail with her teeth. Spitting a piece of nail onto the sand she said, ‘I was a spoilt brat.’
‘True.’ He grinned to soften the truth.
She glared at him. ‘I was Daddy’s little princess.’
‘Is this confession hard to make?’ He was teasing her.
She swiped at him, deliberately missing. ‘If you don’t shut-up I’ll bloody-well brain you.’
‘Sorry.’
‘No you’re not.’
‘Okay, I’m not sorry.’
‘Truth, Theron. Stick to it.’ She rubbed impatiently at the perspiration on her forehead. ‘This is just as hard as I thought it would be.’
‘You just told me to stick to the truth. Why don’t you try it?’
‘I’m not sure how you’ll take it.’
‘I’m a big boy. I’m not violent and I’m a nice guy. Just spit it out.’
She looked at him seriously. ‘My father believed that no-one was ever good enough for me.’
‘And you went along with it.’
‘Until that night, yes.’
‘What changed your mind. I mean, why me?’ It was a question he had often asked himself.
‘When he admitted what he’d done to you my life fell apart. I’d always idolised him. I knew he had faults but what he did to you. . . well. . . they were the actions of a stranger.’
Alex waited, saying nothing.
‘I still didn’t like you much. Daddy saw to that. I never realised until that night just how much he’d influenced me. When you were talking about the Bushmen it suddenly struck me that my father was wrong about you.’
‘You grew up.’
‘In more ways than one,’ she said crisply.
He opened his mouth and she added, ‘Don’t you dare apologise.’ He snapped his mouth shut. She grinned at him. ‘I didn’t intend to go to bed with you. That sort of just happened.’
‘Okay, I don’t apologise but I’d like to know—do you regret it?’
She thought about it. ‘Hell no,’ she said wickedly. ‘Compared to stories other girls told me, I was lucky.’
‘Thanks,’ he said drily. She was making fun of him and he didn’t mind. Two could play that game. ‘As virgins go, you weren’t bad either.’
He held his breath but all she did was throw back her head and laugh. She had an earthy laugh, as though she had just been told a very funny dirty joke.
‘Touché!’ she said finally.
‘So what happened with your father?’ he asked. ‘Did he find out about it?’
The fear came back to her eyes. ‘Yes and no,’ she said finally. ‘He didn’t find out, I told him. You see, Alex, I got pregnant that night.’
If she’d kicked him in the guts his reaction would have been the same. Pregnant! ‘My God, Madison, why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I couldn’t. I’d behaved so badly. I thought you hated me. I told Daddy.’
‘Jesus!’
‘I didn’t tell him who the father was, just that I was pregnant.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He threw me out,’ she said bitterly. ‘Just when I needed him most.’ She gave a hard laugh. ‘That was when I realised I didn’t really know him.’
He wanted to reach out and take her hand but he sensed she would resist. Proud and brave, she would hold herself to herself until her story was told. Then she would look at his face to see his reaction.
‘Mummy helped,’ she continued. ‘She has money of her own. She said I should go to Europe as planned. Everyone would think I was at finishing school. A couple of weeks before I left I saw you at the club.’
‘And you tried to tell me.’ He remembered how she had said that he and she must talk. At the time he believed she meant she wanted to talk about her father.
‘It was a spur of the moment thing.’ She managed a small smile. ‘I’ve often wondered what you’d have done.’
Alex knew that in some strange way she needed reassurance. He also realised she would see through a lie. The truth, once he started to speak, came easily.
‘I was half in love with you before that night. After our fight I believed you hated me. Then I met Chrissy.’ He looked at her quizzically and she stared back, giving no clue to her thoughts. ‘This may be a little hard on the ego, Madison, but, compared to you, Chrissy was rather easy to love.’ Have I gone too far? She was still staring at him. ‘I don’t know now what I’d have done quite frankly. All I can say for certain is that I would not have turned my back on you.’
‘Thank you,’ she said with great sincerity. ‘Thank you for not lying.’
He asked the question burning in his heart. ‘Where is our child now?’ It was an odd feeling, to know he was a father.
A tear slid down her cheek, following a crazy sweat pattern. ‘I miscarried at ten weeks.’
The enormity of what she had gone through hit him. Brave, frightened, alone and far from home, she had faced the consequences of their actions. ‘Madison,’ he said softly, ‘I am so sorry.’
She bit her lip. ‘What about?’
He knew what she was asking. ‘Everything. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone. I’m sorry you lost the baby. I’m sorry about your father.’ He stretched out his hand and gently brushed the tear off her face. ‘I wish I had known.’
She gave him a watery smile. ‘When I recovered I went into finishing school as planned. I swore I’d never tell you.’
He picked up her hand. ‘I’m very glad you did.’
She smiled at him. ‘We have work to do.’
It hit him then how vulnerable she was. Vulnerable, and needing to know that their friendship was still intact. ‘You’re a bloody slave-driver.’ He grinned at her.
‘Compared to you, chum, I don’t even come close.’ She picked up the sieve and shook it. ‘I think I’ll get a job in the salt mines of Siberia for a holiday.’
He took the sieve from her. ‘I didn’t think you had it in you. I was trying to spare you the hard work.’
‘How?’ She snatched back the sieve. ‘By making me work harder?’
‘I didn’t expect you to last. You’ve got more grit than this bloody desert.’
‘Yeah well . . .’ she rattled the sieve. ‘I’m not just a pretty face you know.’
He laughed. ‘Lady, you sure as hell aren’t pretty at the moment.’ When she smiled he added, ‘I’d like to talk more about all this. I’ll even talk about your father if you like. I can see now why you needed to speak about the beating.’
‘I’ll say this for you, Theron, your reactions could use a little oiling.’
He pulled a face at her. ‘Okay, so I’m a bit slow. How about tonight? We can thrash it around then.’
‘Your fire or mine?’
‘Hell, if it’s that hard forget it.’
They laughed together and Alex felt a rush of pleasure that, after all this time, he and Madison were friends. He emptied a bag between them and there they were, just as N!ou had said, just as Alex had always believed them to be. Diamonds! One was the size of a cherry.
As if in a daze he picked it up. ‘Look,’ he whispered.
She reached out and took it. He noticed how dirt encrusted her hand was, how broken the nails. He looked past the stone and saw her grimy, sweat-streaked face, rumpled and stained clothes. She was smiling at the stone and her teeth were startling white against the grime of her face. Mosquito bites stood out on her arms and neck. He stretched out his arm and placed his hand around hers. He saw her eyes focus off the stone and onto his face. ‘Madison.’
The force with which it hit him nearly took his breath away. He was in love with her. ‘Madison.’
She turned her head away, frowning. Then he heard it too. Vehicles were approaching. They stood side by side, waiting. Two Botswana Police vehicles lumbered up to the camp.
‘Mr Theron?’ A young, fresh faced English policeman who, even out in the desert, looked crisp and cool, came to meet him.
‘Pa,’ Alex thought. ‘Has something happened to my father?’ he asked.
The policeman shook his head. ‘I don’t know anything about your father. I’m placing you under arrest.’
‘Arrest! Why?’ Madison demanded.
‘Not you, Miss Carter. Him. Trespassing and illegal prospecting with intent to steal government property.’ The policeman looked back at his vehicle. The other man in it, and both men in the second vehicle, looked impassively back. He was doing all right on his own, let him get on with it. The young policeman shrugged and turned back. ‘You are not obliged to say anything but it is my duty to warn you that anything you do say will be taken down and may be used in evidence against you.’
Alex relaxed and even smiled. ‘You’re mistaken, officer. I’m afraid you’ve made this trip for nothing. I have a licence.’
‘May I see it, sir?’ The policeman looked politely disinterested.
‘Sure.’ Alex moved to the supplies tent. ‘It’s in here.’ But on opening the metal trunk in which he kept his papers, he could find no licence. ‘That’s funny.’ He rummaged some more.
‘What’s the problem?’ Madison called.
‘I can’t find it.’
‘Nor will you, sir.’ The policeman had moved up to the tent. ‘We ran a check through the Geological Survey files. No licence was ever issued.’
‘I tell you I have one. Ask Tim Boland at De Beers. He arranged it.’
‘Mr Boland is no longer with De Beers. He’s been PI’d.’
‘PI’d! Why?’ To be declared a Prohibited Immigrant was the ultimate disgrace.
‘I really couldn’t say, sir. Now, if you could get your things together, we’ll escort you back to Gaborone.’ He left the tent and went to speak with the other officers.
Alex was still not worried. ‘I’ll sort it out,’ he told Madison. ‘Leave the camp as it is, I’ll be back in a few days. Paul can help. He knows I have a licence.’
Paul could not help. ‘There is simply no record of the licence.’
‘I had one. You saw it.’
‘I know.’ Paul frowned. ‘This doesn’t look good. No-one at De Beers has heard of you and Tim Boland is somewhere in South Africa. He was accused of racist behaviour although before he left he swore to me that he was innocent. We can’t find him, though we won’t stop looking. Your defence depends on him.’ Paul shook his head. ‘The timing couldn’t be worse. He’s the only one who can sort the whole mess out but it would appear he’s so angry about the whole thing and feels De Beers should have backed him more that he’s just dropped out of sight.’
‘Who accused him of racism?’
‘His gardener. Trouble is, it’s been confirmed.’
‘By whom?’
‘A cousin of Kel’s who says he witnessed Tim kicking his gardener and calling him “a dirty kaffir”. And that’s only part of it. Kel has an uncle in Geological Surveys. My guess is he’s removed all trace of your licence. You’ve got a fight on your hands, Alex, and your hands are tied. A major kimberlite pipe has been found in the area near your camp, just a couple of miles away. Tim Boland put men south of Jwaneng because he believed in you. The entire area is officially off limits as of last week. Without Tim’s word, De Beers don’t believe your story. Kel has really got you this time.’
The court case was considerably more than just a minor infringement offence. The government of Botswana was prosecuting Alex for being in a restricted area and with attempted theft of government property. Kel’s influential family had whispered words into the right ears, words fed to them by Kel. When Alex Theron was sentenced to five years imprisonment with hard labour, the nation and the government believed that justice had been done.