Nanyuki airstrip was located ten kilometres south of the town centre. It was small with a single runway which received guests on commercial flights from Nairobi, then distributed them in smaller planes to lodges around Laikipia and beyond.
Some guests stayed near Nanyuki, either at the Mount Kenya Resort and Spa or on Ol Pejeta Conservancy. The airport was also home to Equator Air, an aviation company with small and medium-sized planes and five helicopters.
Rose parked Craig’s Subaru by a duranta hedge which separated the runway from the rest of the small airport. A pair of tall black metal gates provided access to the airstrip.
Despite it being Saturday, a group of excited, teenage African schoolchildren gathered by the hedge. Dressed in their yellow uniforms, they grabbed hold of each other and pointed at a blue helicopter as its large blades began to turn.
Rose extracted herself from the car and watched as the blades spun in a whirl and the helicopter lifted itself up into the clear blue sky, banked right and flew away to the north. The children cried out and waved it on its journey.
She looked around to see if there was anyone who could help her move Craig from the car into his wheelchair.
Jono Urquhart, one of the pilots with Equator Air, was peering inside an open panel on the side of a blue caravan: a medium-sized aeroplane which could carry up to twelve passengers. He looked across and she beckoned to him.
As he opened the black metal gate he said, “Morning, Rose, is everything OK?”
“Jono, it’s good to see you. I wondered if you could help my husband into his wheelchair.” She opened the boot of the Subaru and Jono reached in and pulled out the folded wheelchair.
“Of course,” he said as he opened the chair, made sure it was secure and wheeled it forward.
Craig opened the passenger door. “Thank you. It’s irritating having to rely on other people, but I’ve decided it’s better than staying at home.”
Rose held the wheelchair steady and Jono half-lifted and half-dragged Craig across into it.
Jono stood up smiling and said, “I hope I wasn’t too rough.”
Craig’s face was pinched with pain, but he answered, “Not at all. I appreciate the help.”
Rose squatted down and arranged Craig’s feet comfortably on the footrest.
“I’m flying a group over to Baringo shortly, so I won’t be here to help you back into the car,” Jono explained. He turned towards a small, single-storey wooden building between the hedge and airstrip and raised a hand in its direction. “But if you ask at the office they should be able to find someone to assist you.”
Rose stood. “Thank you. We’re meeting our son from the SAX flight from Nairobi, so he’ll be able to help.” She touched Jono’s arm and asked quietly, “How are you? Have you seen Lavi recently?”
Jono swallowed. “I’m flying down to Nairobi this afternoon and spending the weekend with her. It will be our last together, as she’s catching the bus to Lodwar next week. I don’t know when I’ll see her after that, or even if I’ll be allowed to.” He looked away, up the airstrip in the direction the helicopter had flown.
Rose gently squeezed his arm.
She pushed Craig and his wheelchair through a gap in another hedge, which ran at right angles to the airstrip and enclosed Barney’s restaurant. This was a favourite spot to grab a drink or a meal before or after a flight.
It also provided a welcome change from the restaurants in Nanyuki, and families often visited as their children could entertain themselves on the wooden swings, or climb on the back of the decorative metal rhino and watch the planes and helicopters land and take-off on the airstrip.
There was a covered raised platform with tables and chairs, a small gift shop and access to the restaurant kitchen. Rose was relieved to find an empty table at ground level, next to the platform. A waiter rushed over and pulled a chair away from the table.
“Let me help.” He reversed the wheelchair and then parked it in the empty space.
Rose peered at his name tag which she thought said Geoffrey. She looked up and recognised the waiter from Barney’s sister restaurant, the Bushman in Nanyuki.
“Thank you. I thought your name was Geoff.”
The waiter grinned at her. “That’s my twin.”
He left them and Rose pondered, “I presume he was joking, and that he works here and at the Bushman, but has different name badges.”
Craig chortled. “I don’t think anyone would call one twin Geoff and the other Geoffrey, but you never know.”
Geoffrey returned with heavy, red, leatherbound menus as they heard the low hum of an approaching plane.
Craig checked his watch. “This should be Chris’s flight.”
A small commercial red and white plane flew low over them, turned and approached the airstrip from the north. Fascinated, they watched its progress as its wheels bounced once, then twice, on the concrete runway before they heard a rushing-air noise as the thrust reversers were deployed and the plane slowed.
It was out of sight for a couple of minutes, but they could hear a loud whirring noise and then it reappeared, slowly taxiing towards them with the front propeller still spinning. The plane parked ten metres away from the black metal gates and as the blade speed reduced, so did the noise.
They couldn’t see the passengers disembark, but shortly after landing, a smartly dressed African man walked towards the now open metal gate. He carried a briefcase and strode across to a black Toyota Land Cruiser parked three cars away from Craig’s Subaru.
Next to appear was a couple who looked as if they had stepped out of one of the upmarket magazines that Rose occasionally flicked through at Cape Chestnut restaurant.
They both wore light brown cargo-style trousers, neutral coloured cotton shirts, and multi-pocketed khaki-coloured waistcoats. The man stood tall, wearing a fawn, Australian stockman style, Akubra hat, and stared around as if expecting someone to meet them. His posture became rigid and Rose had the impression he was annoyed to be left standing on the tarmac.
Behind them Chris emerged, dressed in shorts and a polo shirt with the strap of his black canvas bag looped over his shoulder.
Rose stood and waved.
Chris smiled in recognition and walked past the couple, through the open metal gate and around the hedge into Barney’s. “Hi Mum.” He dropped his bag to the floor and tentatively placed his arms around her thin frame, gently hugging her. He looked into her face. “You look well.”
Rose stood back, amazed by how fine and handsome her son was, although he needed some colour in his pasty white face. “It’s great to see you.”
Chris stepped behind her and faced his father across the table. “Dad,” he said, in a matter-of-fact tone, and extended his arm.
Craig took the proffered hand, clasped it in both of his and declared, “It’s good to have you home.”