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Authors: Jan Hurst-Nicholson

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CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

 

 

Within a week she had booked her flights.
She could hear the excitement in Ruan’s voice when she told him she was returning. He was full of enthusiasm for the elephant project and anxious to fill her in on the progress. He would take the day off to pick her up at Kruger International. She suddenly felt a dreadful guilt that she’d been cheating on him with Adam. He didn’t deserve it.

W
ith a heavy heart she packed her suitcases. She would be travelling by train to Heathrow and then flying to OR Tambo and catching another flight to the Kruger International at Nelspruit.

She spent the night with
Adam in the cottage and when they made love in the morning it was bitter-sweet knowing it would be the last time. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying. Why couldn’t he love her like he’d loved Michelle? As she hugged Romper goodbye she buried her face in his silky hair and slow tears squeezed from her eyes. As if he shared her misery the little dog gave her a comforting lick.

Adam drove the family to the station, all of them full of false bonhomie. They were waiting for Adam to say the one word to Nicole that would change all their lives -
‘stay’
. But it never came. There were tearful farewells between Polly and Nicole, and even Jack was seen to brush his hand over his eyes. Only Adam remained stoic. “I’m going to miss you,” he said, hugging her. “Be good to Ruan, he sounds like a great guy.”

She spent the
train journey with wet, shiny eyes, constantly checking her phone in case he called and said ‘
please don’t go.
’ But it was only as she was about to board the plane that her phone rang. She answered it immediately. “Have a safe journey. Look after yourself – and watch out for ticks!” He hadn’t even asked how long she would be away. He obviously wasn’t expecting her to return. She’d have to plan a future without him. She examined her feelings for Ruan. Perhaps she did love him – but was she ‘in love’ with him? No, she was and always would be, in love with Adam. Was that how Adam felt about her – he loved her, but wasn’t ‘in love’ with her the same way he’d been with Michelle? But if she couldn’t have Adam, should she settle for second best? Would that be fair to Ruan?

 

Ruan was at the airport to meet her, excited to have her back and to tell her about her project and all the latest news. “There’s been a new intake of students and one of the girls, Thembisile, is very keen to assist you. She’s already gone over your data, and she can help when you give talks to the visiting schools. Zulu is her home language.” Nicole felt guilty that she only spoke English. Ruan had a working knowledge of Zulu and Xhosa, as well as being fluent in Afrikaans.

She
couldn’t help being swept up by his enthusiasm, and as they drove into the staff village at Skukuza, he stopped to allow a small herd of impala to amble across the road. She smiled to herself at the old joke of ‘stop at the zebra crossing’. As he turned into the entrance of his house a kudu was grazing near the gate and they waited patiently for it to finish, but when it showed no sign of moving he pipped the horn gently and startled, it bounded off, but stopped a few metres away and turned to give them a haughty look, like an indignant maiden aunt cheeked by a nephew. They laughed as they drove in, but when Nicole saw the yellow ribbon tied round the knob-thorn tree in the middle of the garden her eyes misted. “Welcome home,” he said. “Sorry it couldn’t be an oak tree.” Tears pricked her eyes. Home. Could she make this her home? Why couldn’t she love Ruan the way she loved Adam?

“That’s so sweet of you,” she said, squeezing his arm.

He’d organised a celebratory home-coming supper for the two of them and after they’d eaten they moved onto the veranda and sat in the sagging chairs and listened to the ticking of the corrugated iron roof as it cooled. Darkness fell quickly in Africa, like a black velvet curtain coming down on a stage. The bush was a busy place at night and there were myriad sounds that she’d almost forgotten about. In the stillness they could hear the night creatures foraging in the dry grass, and insects chirruping close by. Frogs and toads called from the dam, and there was the ping ping of the bats echolocation. A pearl-spotted owl called "
feu-feu-feu-fue-feu
" and after a short pause "
peeooh peeooh
". In the distance came a muffled warning roar from one of the big cats, and the laughing bark of a hyena. They often heard the hippos in the river, and elephants breaking branches and feeding nearby. “Listen,” said Ruan, “There’s a fiery-necked nightjar.”

“Is it really calling ‘
good lord deliver us’
,” said Nicole.

“That’s why it’s also called ‘the litany bird’,” said Ruan, always keen to impart knowledge, and then asked quietly, “Are you glad to be back?”

“Mmm,” she murmured, unsure of how she really felt.  Working here with the animals was a dream job, and having Ruan beside her should have made it paradise.

A thick-tailed bushbaby the size of a small cat crept shyly onto the veranda, its big orange eyes looking at them expectantly.
It was shortly followed by another. Ruan went to fetch some bananas and they were soon feeding out of their hands. The bushbabies child-like cries had been known to alarm visitors and even accuse the staff of child abuse. She smiled at the contentment she saw in his face as he fed another banana to the bolder of the bushbabies, and imagined what it would be like to raise children here, to have them accept as normal an elephant wandering by, as she had once watched the cows being herded past her home on the way to the milking shed. The children would go to school here amongst the wildlife, and her parents would come for holidays. There was even a golf course for her father. She would miss the sea, but they could always go to Cape Town or Durban for their holidays, where Ruan had relatives.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, taking her hand and drawing her to her feet. He took her in his arms. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come back. That you might find someone else while you were away.”

She buried her head in his chest, guilt and shame robbing her of a reply.

He led her inside and through to the bedroom. Perhaps it was time to abandon her teenage dreams of Adam and accept her adult reality of Ruan.

 

The following Saturday Adam was having his usual breakfast with Polly, an exhausted Romper sitting at his feet. She put Adam’s breakfast in front of him and sat opposite pushing her food round her plate.

“Come on, what is it?” said Adam. “You’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look,” she said.

“The one that says ‘I don’t want to pry, but there’s something I need to know’.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“It is to me, who’s seen it many times before.”

“I’ve no right to ask,” she said.

“If it’s about Nicole, you’ve every right. She’s your daughter.”

She placed her hand on his. “Have your feelings for her changed?”

“I
care for her very much.” He looked levelly at Polly before confessing. “I think I’ve fallen in love with her.”

“Why didn’t you tell her? Why did you let her go back to South Africa thinking you didn’t care?
You know she loves you.”


Polly, Nicole fell in love with me when she was a teenager reading romance novels. But what she fell in love with was an image of me she created in her mind. Our relationship now is filled with the passion and excitement of her fantasy, but it will fade. I don’t want her to be disappointed when she discovers the real-life me. Ruan can offer her a long-term relationship. She deserves to have a chance of a life with him. I want her to have time to sort out her feelings.”

“Adam,
are you trying
not
to fall in love with her?”

“I’m trying not to ruin her chances of happiness with someone her own age.”

“Remember that Jack is ten years older than me and it didn’t harm our relationship, in fact it probably helped. Nicole needs a strong male figure – someone she can’t walk all over. She knows what she wants, and what she wants is you – good or bad.”

“If she leaves Ruan
of her own accord, then I’ll know I haven’t come between them.”

“I won’t interfere,
and I’m not going to tell you what to do, even though I see two people who love each other dearly possibly destroying both their lives. But remember, mostly it’s better to go with your gut instinct and think less when it comes to important life choices. If you keep digging up a plant to see how the roots are doing you’ll eventually kill it,” said Polly.

“Thanks for the homilies,” said Adam, laughing. “I’ll keep them in mind.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

 

 

The end of term heralded Sport’s Day and weather predictions looked promising for a dry day. The girls had spent the term practising for their chosen sports and team selection had been intense. But the highlight would be the traditional teachers versus girls’ netball match that would take place the following day. Adam protested that he couldn’t take part as he played basketball and didn’t know the rules for netball, but he was persuaded that they needed him to make up the team, and Dee Taylor would give him a crash course on the rules.

When the girls realised that the teachers would have
an advantage with two tall players in Adam and Jenna they complained to Dee Taylor. She suggested they toss a coin to see who would play for the girls’ side. When the coin fell tails up it meant that Jenna would move to the girls’ team.

The match was
scheduled for the Friday morning and the July weather played its part in being sunny and warm. The netball court was in the centre of the schoolyard and as each class filed out they were directed where to sit by the head girl whose sporting prowess did not match that of her academic achievements and so was not part of the team.  The girls jostled for places close to their friends before sitting cross-legged on mats brought from the gym and in giggling anticipation as to how ‘Sir’ would perform on the netball court. Lisa, also anxious to see how Adam would fare, watched from the sidelines having transferred the landline calls to her phone, ready to return to her office should the need arise.

Dee Taylor emerged from the gym with the
players’ bibs that showed their various positions on the court, followed by the girls’ team, including Jenna Murray, in their uniform of burgundy shorts and yellow T-shirt with the school badge. Her long legs were tanned from spending weekends hiking in Wales with Andy searching for that perfect photograph. She’d let her hair down, but wore it in a loose pony tail and if it hadn’t been for her height would have easily been mistaken for one of the school netball team. As they began warming up the girls watched Jenna’s graceful, natural moves enviously.

The staff had chosen to wear the
school’s burgundy track suits. But they did not come in a size large enough for Adam’s long legs, so he was clad in his white tennis shorts and shirt. Lauren Mathews was giving him pointers on the footwork rule, “Remember, the landing foot can only be moved to pivot on.” And Barbara Crook reminded him that she was Goal Attack and would be working with him to score goals. When they started warming up it was clear that Adam’s basketball prowess was going to be an advantage as they watched the ball sail over the heads of the other players and land in the net with seemingly effortless ease.

Eleanor Stannard was
the umpire, and they’d brought out the bottom layers of the gym vaulting box to act as a ‘
penalty box’
or
‘sin-bin’
where she would send transgressors of the rules.

Dee Taylor
, as team captain, had selected her team’s positions. Goal shooter – Adam; Wing attack – Hayley Price; Goal Attack – Barbara Crook; Centre – Annette Woolf; Goal Defence – Kate O’Brien; Wing defence –  Dee Taylor; Goal Keeper – Lauren Mathews.

Jenna Murray
had been chosen as Goal Keeper for the girls’ team as she was close to Adam’s height.

When
both teams had donned their bibs Eleanor Stannard announced, “I’ll toss the coin and Dee can call.” The girls won and the teams went to their respective places, Adam in the goal circle with Jenna Murray. Standing side by side there were few who would not admit they made a handsome couple.

“So
, it’s your job to stop me scoring,” he said to Jenna, and then whispered in her ear, “I believe that’s something you’re already familiar with.”

She gave him a
thin smile, finding his close presence unsettling, especially seeing how attractive he looked in shorts. She was saved from having to reply by Eleanor Stannard blowing the whistle for the start of the game.

Dee Taylor was the only teacher who’d played netball since last year’s game and the girls took advantage of their rivals’ slower
and less agile reactions and soon had the ball in the net.

But the next centre pass was caught by Hayley Price who threw the ball to Adam.

“Shoot, shoot,” shouted Dee Taylor, but as Adam leapt up to drop the ball into the net Jenna prodded him in the ribs and he collapsed and dropped the ball.

“Contact. Obstruction,” called the teachers.

“I didn’t touch him, did I, girls?” Jenna appealed to the spectators with a conspiratorial smile.

“No contact. No obstruction,” they
shouted their agreement.

Eleanor Stannard’s age precluded her from dashing about the court, which should have ruled her out as umpire, but as there was no one else they had an informal arrangement to allow the spectators to call the disputes
. As she hadn’t seen the transgression she was forced to agree.

Adam threw his hands in the air and appealed to Eleanor Stannard, “What sort of rules does this game have?”

“It would appear to be a few new ones,” she said, blowing the whistle for another centre pass.

The girls scored their second goal amidst
loud cheering from their supporters. But when the ball was again in the teachers’ circle Adam was ready. He leapt to catch it, but Jenna intercepted it and was about to pass it on when Adam lifted her effortlessly into the air like a ballet dancer.

She felt his hands round her waist like a lightning bolt. He slowly lowered her to the ground, placing her outside the court. As she slid down his body her bare legs came into contact with his and her pulse raced.


Offside,” he called, grinning down at her.

There were immediate roars of, “Contact. Obstruction,” from the gir
ls, followed by chants of, “Sin-bin. Sin-bin.”  Eleanor Stannard was forced to acknowledge the transgression and blew the whistle and pointed to the vaulting box.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to go in the sin bin for five minutes,” Jenna said
sweetly, but her voice and her legs were slightly unsteady.

“What! Aw c’mon,” said Adam
, turning to appeal to the girls.

“Sin bin, sin bin,”
they chanted.

“Who made up these rules?” he complained, climbing into the box and raking his
fingers through his hair. The head girl had the job of keeping the score and timing the transgressors and took it very seriously, pressing the stop watch immediately Adam was standing inside the box.  He waited a couple of minutes and then asked to see the stop watch. Taking it from her he stopped it and cleared the screen and announced, “Time’s up,” and climbed out of the box.

“Siiirrrrr,” protested the head g
irl, but Adam was already back on the court.

The girls had scored four goals, but the
teachers were now getting into their stride and their main objective was to get the ball to Adam. He put two into the net while neatly side-stepping Jenna’s attempts to block him. But Barbara Crook now had the ball and was preparing to shoot. Jenna was jumping up to deflect Barbara Crook’s aim. Adam put his hands round Barbara Crook’s waist and picked her up out of Jenna’s reach allowing her to drop the ball neatly into the net.

When he put her down she turned laughingly to him
and Jenna felt her stomach lurch, a feeling that was so unfamiliar that she didn’t at first recognise it as jealousy. All the months Barbara had spent flirting with him and he hadn’t responded – but seeing him with his arms round her had released feelings Jenna had tried so hard to bury. The cries of, “Contact. Contact,” brought her back to the game.

“But she’s on my team,” pleaded Adam. “It can’t be an obstruction.”

“It’s not an obstruction,” confirmed Eleanor Stannard. “It’s called cheating. Goal disallowed.” She pointed to the sin bin.

This time the head g
irl was not going to be tricked and kept the stop watch out of Adam’s reach, attaching it to the clipboard she was using to record the score. Glenda McKenzie was sitting close by with her circle of friends. “Has Sir been a naughty boy, then,” she said, smirking up at him. He didn’t respond, but Lisa noticed the slight tightening of his jaw. Only two of Glenda’s friends sniggered, the rest remained in an uncomfortable silence, no longer willing to back her up.

S
everal girls who’d heard the remark muttered, “Shurrup, Glenda.” It appeared that Glenda McKenzie’s influence was waning – and Adam’s gaining.

While
Adam fumed in the sin bin the girls scored another two goals. But when he returned to the court he dodged and outwitted Jenna and scored two goals in quick succession. He was shooting for his third goal when Jenna tilted the goal post and the ball went wide. She grinned triumphantly and turned to the girls who laughed and cheered.

But then she found herself swept up in his arms and carried
towards the sin-bin. She instinctively pushed against his broad shoulders in an attempt to struggle free, but he was laughing down at her and she knew it was hopeless to resist. His hair was flopping untidily over his brow, his eyes glinting with humour and he had a faint five o’clock shadow. She felt a sudden unwelcome jolt of desire rise from deep within her and when he deposited her in the box her arms lingered round his neck fractionally longer than was necessary. This time it was Barbara Crook’s face that wore a frozen, badly masked smile of envy. Even Lisa, standing on the sidelines could recognise her expression for what it was.

When the game finally ended
, to the relief of most of the staff who were unused to the exertion, the head girl was asked to reveal the score. But she looked at her clipboard somewhat perplexed. Her neat
three
had been turned into an
eight
, and a
seven
into a lopsided
four
. So instead of the girls winning seventeen to thirteen, the staff appeared to have won eighteen to fourteen – and Sir was wearing a mischievous grin. Sir was apparently very competitive. There was uproar from the girls’ team and Adam confessed. “Okay, you were so good I felt you needed a handicap. Congratulations on winning.”

Although Adam had turned the game into a semi-farce everyone had enjoyed the fun and
Lisa realised that Adam’s relationship with girls had grown from them respecting his authority as head to respecting him as a person; someone they liked and wanted to please. It was close to the end of the school year and the meeting of the governing board was in a few days. It was time for a discussion on the renewal of Adam’s contract and she felt sure they would want him back, unaware how drastically things would change in the coming weeks.

 

 

 

BOOK: With the Headmaster's Approval
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