Last Survivor by Tony Park

Author:Tony Park [Park, Tony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781760981181
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

As they approached the stairs leading up to the wooden deck of the stoep, Patricia stopped and drew a sharp little breath. ‘Your Excellency . . .’

‘Hello, Patricia, how are you?’

‘Er . . . fine, fine sir, and you?’

Sonja looked up to see a handsome man with thick wavy hair, with enough black left in it to remind her of Omar Sharif in his heyday, dressed in a white cotton shirt, two buttons undone, faded jeans and designer sneakers. He smiled, beautifully. She had dealt with plenty of wealthy people in the Middle East, sometimes providing protection for the wives of oil-rich sheikhs. She knew the men could be, by custom and upbringing, charming, and while some really were, others were putting on a front to hide the excesses and attitudes that afflicted rich men around the world. She recognised Prince Faisal from the picture in Jed’s briefing.

‘I’m also fine, thank you for asking. I heard you were taking a group of Joanne’s friends around the gardens.’

‘Yes, I hope that was all right, sir . . .’

‘No problem at all.’ He looked over her head to the rest of the group. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, perhaps if your schedule would allow you’d consider taking some tea with me?’

Jacqueline cleared her throat. ‘Your Majesty, we would be honoured.’

‘No need to be so formal. Please, call me Faisal. But I’m afraid this is a sad occasion.’

They climbed the stairs and Sonja saw two tables laid out with fine china, cakes and homemade biscuits, water and juices, tea and coffee. Half-a-dozen domestic staff flitted about adding the final touches.

‘I am not sure if the news from Zimbabwe has reached you yet, about Mrs Flack.’

Jacqueline nodded. ‘It has, Your Excellency.’

He put two hands over his heart. ‘I am so sorry for the loss of your friend. I counted her as one as well and my heart is heavy at her passing.’

Sonja guessed Faisal’s accent came courtesy of an expensive education in England. She eased her way through the group to get closer to the prince as he picked up a teapot and began pouring. ‘It seems impossible, Your Excellency, that she could die in that way, don’t you think?’

Faisal handed the cup of tea to Jacqueline, who, Sonja thought, almost swooned.

‘It is incredible that something so random and tragic could happen to such a strong woman,’ he replied.

‘And so soon after what happened in England,’ Thandi added.

Sonja noted how the Zimbabwean woman had also manoeuvred herself closer to the prince, while the others hung back out of deference, respect or shyness. Laurel had been given a cup of tea by a waitress, but the poor thing’s hands were shaking so much that Sonja could hear the rattle of china. Frank Sonnet stood at the fringe of the group, watching them all, as if he fully expected that an elderly plant fancier might draw a gun on Faisal at any moment. Of course, knowing this crowd as she did already, Sonja thought that wasn’t such a crazy idea.

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