Refuge by Andrew Brown

Author:Andrew Brown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Refuge
ISBN: 9781770200975
Publisher: Penguin Random House South Africa
Published: 2010-09-29T04:00:00+00:00

TEN

RICHARD REVERSED HIS car out of the double garage. He was soothed by the familiarity of the bricked roadway drumming on the wide tyres. The day was clear and already warm, generating a sense of well-being that made the recent disruptions to his life seem a little foolish. For a while, the meeting with Abayomi had left him more miserable than before. He had squabbled with Nadine at work, and Amanda remained distant. After two days of agonising, he had woken up with a clear resolution: he would regard the Nigerian temptress as a passing client. His intimacy with her would be a receding memory, and over time it would release its hold on him. He would recommit himself to stability, to a family life. He spoke the words to himself in his mind, willing them to hold together, to suppress the tickling thrill that still fluttered in his stomach.

The car glided down the estate lane, shaded by the overarching oak trees. The rising sun shone through the young vine leaves, casting a pale-green glow across the vineyard floor. He would take his family on a holiday, he thought, to escape the dreary Cape winter. A surprise two-week trip to somewhere exotic, where they could play in the sun and be easy in each other’s company. Bali perhaps, he mused, as the booms lifted for him and he drove out of the grounds into the gathering traffic. Tanned bodies lying sultry on the beach, soaking up the rays while Cape Town hunkered down into its rain jackets and damp shoes. Or somewhere more interesting, like Morocco or Egypt. Yes, he thought, somewhere in the north of Africa, where he could show his family the real beauty of the continent. The dark richness of her soul. Richard sighed loudly as his heart again tightened, aware that his thoughts were returning implacably to flirt with the prospect of seeing Abayomi again.

‘Godammit!’ He slammed both hands down onto the steering wheel, causing the tyres to shudder on the road. He could not escape the irritating childishness of his captivation. Yet he continued to revel in the rush of new emotions that coursed through him. He was both repulsed by and morbidly drawn to the possibilities.

The traffic entering the highway was backed up down the on-ramp and his SLK rolled to a standstill. The headline boards of the competing newspapers were strung up on the telephone poles. Richard stared at them through the passenger window on his left. ‘Crisis in SA cricket’, ‘Tourists mugged’. Richard thought of what Abayomi had said. The paranoia of the advantaged, feeding off the doomsday prophets like jackals on poisoned carrion. The tabloids were no better, aiming purely for shock value without the pessimistic analysis: ‘Man eats child’ and ‘Druggie kills bergie’, the posters proclaimed.

Richard looked away. He was startled to find someone standing next to his window, patiently waiting for him to finish reading the boards. The young man had painted his face in ludicrous streaks of white and red and wore a sickly yellow wig made of foam and string.

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