The Golden Light of Africa_A Love Story by Erna Gianotten

Author:Erna Gianotten [Gianotten, Erna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9492371723
Amazon: B07BTRVJ6T
Publisher: Amsterdam Publishers
Published: 2018-03-30T00:00:00+00:00

12

Two days after coming home from Dar es Salaam, Tomas' ear starts to bother him. It begins with itching, followed by a stabbing pain and then more itching, as if dozens of ants are swarming through his auditory canal. Large quantities of aspirin, swallowed casually with gulps of filtered water, make little difference. He thinks he picked it up at the swimming pool. 'Do you have any idea how much poisonous stuff they put in those hotel swimming pools?'

I protest at the idea of the clear blue water being full of foul chemicals. 'I would have had problems as well in that case. Anyway, you only swam twice the whole time.'

The previous evening we'd celebrated Sinterklaas, the feast of Saint Nicholas, with the nuns, complete with the customary Dutch spice biscuits, crazy surprise packages and orange fondant. There was even the traditional puff-pastry letter with real almond paste filling. Regina had recently explained the recipe in detail: mix the finely ground almonds with sugar, egg and almond essence, knead it into a ball and put it away in a glass jar.

'You have to make it a long time in advance, so that the flavours can really blend.' She'd cut me an extra slice and asked if Tomas would like a bit more, but he'd shaken his head and turned to look at Sasja who was opening another package with flushed cheeks. 'Look, Daddy, a hat for Gnomey!'

'A rain hat,’ triumphantly explained Celestien, the maker of the shiny bright yellow headgear.

'The doctor's very quiet tonight, you'd think he'd lost a shilling and found sixpence,' Regina had added.

Shortly afterwards we'd walked home, pushing the pram along the pitch-dark path to the doctor's house. Sasja had waved her newly acquired torch around and delightedly discovered a chameleon in its beam, crossing the road at a dignified ambling pace.

The next morning the pain is unbearable. Tomas comes home halfway through the day and goes to bed. Angélique promises to come and give him a pain-killing shot that evening before the electricity goes off, but the pain is so bad that I ring the convent to ask if she can come earlier.

To make matters worse, Félice and Dominique, the most decisive of the group, went into retreat immediately after Sinterklaas.

Immaculata has been on leave in the Netherlands for a month now, and Prudence is in bed with flu. The injection with some sort of morphine derivative only helps for a couple of hours, and the stabbing pains recur so violently in the course of the night that Tomas sits upright weeping with misery, rocking to and fro. There's no point in summoning Angélique again in the middle of the night. We know how long it would take to round up the dogs and make the crossing to our house. We also know how terrified she is of those monsters. There's one more syringe lying ready for the next morning when Tomas grabs it in sheer desperation and sticks it in his upper thigh with a

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