A Wedding in Africa (The Africa Series) (19 page)

 

‘Yes! Yes, of course.’ Lacey shuffled along the bench. ‘What is it, Nandi dear?’

Nandi didn’t look up to meet Lacey’s eyes. She stared into her lap where she started to fiddle with a strand of loose cotton that was hanging from her blouse.

‘I have something to tell you.’ Nandi replied.

Nandi spoke in hushed tones and Lacey had to lean forward to catch what she was saying. She reached out and took one of Nandi’s hands in her own. ‘I’m listening, Nandi. What is it you want to tell me?’

Nandi looked up, her warm mocha eyes glistening with unshed tears. ‘I want to tell you the truth. I believe that you have a right to know the truth, because hiding the truth from you is causing you pain. And it is causing the
Nkosi
pain. And I cannot bear that.’

‘Why is the truth causing us pain, Nandi? What is this truth you talk about?’

‘It is the truth about my son. You do not know this truth, and so you are hurting. You are hurting because you are in love with the
Nkosi
. I know also that the
Nkosi
is in love with you.’

Lacey started to protest but Nandi shushed her. ‘I have watched you both, seen you together, and I know that you are in love. But the truth about Themba is keeping you apart. I do not want that to happen.’

Lacey breathed deeply. ‘Nandi, dear Nandi. I
do
know the truth about Themba.’

Nandi shook her head. ‘I heard you arguing with your visitor while I was picking mealies in the vegetable garden. I heard what was said about Themba. And now I understand what is keeping you and the
Nkosi
apart. You think that Themba is his son.’

‘I do. But… but is he?’ Lacey was almost too afraid to know the answer. ‘Is Themba Tate’s son?’

‘No, Miss Lacey. Themba is his brother’s son. I was a foolish young girl then, and Gareth Maddox was very handsome. I was easily seduced by him one night when he was drunk. He used to drink a lot.’

Lacey’s hands flew up to her mouth in horror. ‘No! That can’t be true.’ ‘It is true. Although I am ashamed to say it now. I found out afterwards that Gareth had been sleeping with the
Nkosi’s
wife. One night, Gareth and Miss Miranda had a fight. Gareth was very drunk. He came to me. He wanted to make Miss Miranda jealous. Miss Miranda was very beautiful, and
Nkosi’s
brother wanted her more than anything else.’

‘Nandi! This is awful. And poor Tate – how did he feel about all this?’

‘At first he did not know that they were lovers, but he and his wife had many arguments about her behaviour towards Gareth. They also argued about Matshana. Miss Miranda hated it here. She wanted to live in the city
– in Europe. She never really belonged here. She did not care about the land or the animals. Nor even the people who live here at Matshana. Gareth felt the same way. They were very alike, he and Miss Miranda.’

‘So how did Tate find out about their affair?’

Nandi dropped her head and a silent tear plopped into her lap. ‘I am to blame for that. I discovered I was bearing Gareth’s child. When I told the
Nkosi
he was very angry. He and his brother had a terrible fight. Halfway through, Gareth admitted that he and Miss Miranda were lovers. It was very bad. I shall never forget the look on pain on the
Nkosi’s
face. He demanded to know if it was true and his wife, Miss Miranda, well, she just laughed at him. She was so cruel. The
Nkosi
was furious. He threw them both out. But the
Nkosi
… he swore never to speak to them again. Never to see either of them again. It broke his heart. And he has never been the same since. He has never been able to find happiness… until you came to Matshana.’

‘Oh Nandi. I have been so wrong about Tate. I feel dreadful. And I said some terrible things to him out in the bush today. How will I ever make it up to him?’

‘I do not know, Miss Lacey. But at least now you know the truth. You must choose how to deal with it.’

‘But why didn’t Tate simply tell me the truth himself? Why did he let me believe all that stuff about Themba being
his
child? I don’t understand.’

‘He is honouring a pledge he made to me when Themba was born. I asked him not to let the boy know who his real father is. Not to tell anyone the truth. I want to tell him myself when the time is right. He is too young to know such things at the moment. And, also, I want him to learn to love Thomas as a father. For Thomas truly loves him as a son. When Themba is older, we will tell him together. As a family.’

‘And Tate is clearly devoted to his nephew,’ said Lacey, filling in the blanks now, ‘Anyone can see that he adores the child.’

‘He swore to me that he would look after his nephew. And his has kept his word. The Nkosi never breaks his word, Miss Lacey. He is a good, kind man.’

Lacey shook her head miserably.

‘And our future is very bright now,’ Nandi continued. ‘The
Nkosi
, has said that Thomas and I will help manage the new lodges when they are finished. I am going to be the head cook – with my very own kitchen and people helping me. And Thomas is going to be the head maintenance man. But do you know what I am most excited about, Miss Lacey…?’

‘No, Nandi. Tell me.’

Nandi shivered with excitement and leaned closer to Lacey. ‘When Thomas and I are married, we will move into one of those beautiful lodges ourselves. The
Nkosi
has built us a perfect new home. We have all had to work very long hours, but it has been worth it. We have all pulled together, as a family, here at Matshana. And now our future is very happy.’

Lacey shook her head, unable to comprehend how wrong she had been about Tate; about everything. She felt ashamed and humbled by Nandi’s story. ‘Which one is going to be your new home, Nandi?’ she asked, recalling that joyful day spent painting the lodges down at the Sabie River, laughing and singing with Thomas and Nandi … and Tate.

‘It is that pretty little one, set back from the others. You helped us paint it the other day. We all worked so hard, and we were all very tried, but it was worth it. Everything has a purpose here. Everything is worthwhile here at Matshana.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

Tate’s desk was strewn with papers and ledgers. His laptop was open, but he could barely focus on the complicated columns of figures his accountant had set out before him. His hair was a mess and he hadn’t shaved that morning, so a haze of blue stubble still covered his chin. His white shirt was creased, but Tate hadn’t noticed. He’d just tugged it open at the neck and rolled up his sleeves past the elbow to stay cool.

Jabu and Kaya seemed to sense their master’s mood and they both sat quietly, tongues lolling out, staring dolefully at his chair. Outside his office, the sun was white hot against a bright blue cloudless sky. Birds were singing their hearts out in the trees near the window, but nothing could lighten Tate’s mood.

‘Sorry about this, Andrew,’ he said, taking a slug from a bottle of water. ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind this morning.’

‘I figured as much,’ his accountant replied. ‘We’ve been friends for years so I’m used to the fact that you’re a dead loss when it comes to dealing with things like business forecasts and profit and loss returns, but, even by your lowly standards, it looks like this meeting’s going to be an uphill struggle!’

Tate laughed out loud and the dogs began to wag their tails hopefully. ‘By God, Andrew, you sure know how to kick a man when he’s down. You know better than anyone how much I loathe all this kind of stuff.’

‘I know – and it never ceases to amaze me,’ Andrew teased. ‘Jeez Tate! You’re one of the richest guys in the country, yet you can’t bear talking about money. How weird is that?’

‘Not weird at all. That’s why I’ve got you on the payroll. I know I can leave all the boring financial stuff to an expert.’

Andrew grinned. ‘Well, you’ll be pleased to know that this “expert” is the bearer of good news today. The animal sanctuary’s been given approval for grants from the World Wildlife Fund and the EU. How cool is that?’

‘That’s great. Look, I’m sorry if I seem a bit distant. It’s great to know that the sanctuary’s got the extra funding it needs. I just can’t wait to get the whole thing started.’

‘Well, you’ll also be pleased to know that the projected income from the holiday lodges will more than cover your running costs, and we’ve got no problems with the build costs because you’ve funded all that from your own money. It looks like you’re actually going to pull off this amazing dream of yours; you’re actually going to be in a position to help sick and abandoned animals - just like you always said you would. You must be mighty proud of yourself today, buddy.’

‘I couldn’t have done it without your help and everyone else involved. It’s been a team effort from start to finish. And now I’ve got these grants, I can actually start kitting out the animal surgery. It’s only a short drive away from the lodges. I want the tourists to be able to see what we’re doing here, maybe even sponsor an orphaned elephant or something. It might make their time here feel even more worthwhile.’

‘And you’ve got that reporter from Style Concepts magazine working on the story for the lodges. She’s going to give them exactly the kind of publicity they need. Is she going to write about the sanctuary, too?’

Tate shook his head as he idly bent a paperclip out of shape with his thumb and forefinger. He’d wanted to tell Lacey about his dream to provide shelter and veterinary treatment for wild animals, but he wasn’t sure that she, or the readers of her magazine, would be interested in that kind of stuff. They’d probably be more interested in all the shenanigans over Themba.

Tate now knew that Lacey was convinced that Themba was his child, and that Miranda had run off because he’d humiliated her. But she was wrong. Totally wrong! But Tate couldn’t break his promise to Nandi to tell Lacey the truth about his brother and his wife. Nandi had asked him to keep things secret for Themba’s sake, and he’d agreed. End of story. Tate Maddox always stuck to his word.

But, somehow, he couldn’t help wishing that he could clear his name with Lacey. It hurt that she might think he was the kind of guy who refused to acknowledge his own son. It hurt that she was going to leave Matshana thinking so badly of him. In fact, it hurt that she should leave Matshana at all. But there was no way he could ask her to stay. He couldn’t live a lie. It wouldn’t be fair. To either of them.
Lacey stared at the suitcase lying open on the bed. Next to it, a pile of neatly pressed clothes were waiting to be packed. Still hanging on the back of the door, her beautiful evening dress glimmered like a hidden jewel beneath its protective wrapping. Immediately, her thoughts flew back to that dress shop in Pretoria when the assistant had mistaken her for Tate’s fiancée. She’d laughed at the innocent mistake then but, secretly, she’d rather liked the idea of being engaged to the dashing man lounging in the chair while she twirled in that divine dress before him.

But it wasn’t going to happen, was it? She’d said some unforgiveable things; things that must have cut him deeply. But at no time during her onslaught had he tried to defend himself, to explain his side of the story. He was way too honourable for that. He’d promised Nandi that he’d let her be the one to tell Themba the truth about his father, and Tate wasn’t the kind of guy who would break a promise – not even when someone was hurling ridiculous accusations at him without knowing their facts.

Just the memory of her behaviour made Lacey feel sick. How could she have been so stupid?

Utterly wretched, Lacey flopped down on the bed and sighed deeply. She wanted to cry, but she was too ashamed to find solace even in that. Instead, she just sat on the edge of the bed, lonely, desolate, and desperately wishing she could just run to Tate and beg his forgiveness for making such awful assumptions.

But, even if she did find the courage to do it, she couldn’t get to him. He was with his accountant all morning. Locked away in his office. Unreachable.

Probably planning ways to make even more money, Lacey told herself, relieved to find something she could criticise; something that she actually
didn’t
like about the man. Funny to think how many things there had been when she’d first arrived. Now, she was struggling to think of anything about Tate that she didn’t like. Didn’t love…

But there was no doubt in her mind that his fixation with money was a definite black mark against him. She’d had enough of that back in Cape Town. It was the one part of Tate that reminded her of Mortimer. Here was just another wealthy man doggedly pursuing yet more riches. And for what? What possible good would it do? How much more money did Tate need, for goodness sake? It was just a pity he couldn’t put his money to better use instead of building exclusive safari lodges for other wealthy people to enjoy.

No. Lacey had had her fill of men who were obsessed with money. She’d plucked up the courage to call off her engagement to Mortimer – in spite of what her father might say – so there was no way she was going to hook up with another money-making machine.

Even if he’d wanted her to!

Outside her bedroom window, the leaves rustled gently in the breeze and a heady perfume swept into her room. She shook her hair away from her face, brushing the creases out of her skirt as she stood up to carry on packing. But first she needed to get a glass of Nandi’s freshly-squeezed lemonade so that she could take a couple of painkillers to ease her headache.

She made her way down the corridor to the reception room. When she got there, she discovered a slim, middle-aged African in a well-cut suit waiting in the middle of the room.

‘Hello. I’m Lacey. Can I help you?’ she asked.

 

The man turned and nodded. ‘I hope so, Lacey. I’m here to see Tate Maddox. My name is Eli Sikomba.’

 

‘I’m afraid he’s busy right now. He’s in a meeting with his accountant. Is he expecting you?’

 

The man gestured to his bulging briefcase. ‘I’m here to join them at that meeting. I’m the Veterinary Surgeon.’

 

‘The Veterinary Surgeon!’ Lacey echoed. ‘There’s nothing wrong is there? I mean, the animals… they’re okay, aren’t they?’