Some days later, the judge’s wife gave a party. The boy arrived late; nobody was sure if he had been invited. There was whisky available, and many of the guests drank more than was wise. At one point in the evening, the boy was seen talking to the cattle-trader’s widow. The boy said something and then leaned forward and whispered in her ear. She recoiled sharply and then – although few people saw this – she slapped the boy across the face and walked away. The Captain did not witness this incident; nor did the judge’s wife. The judge saw it, though, looking over the top of his whisky glass. He frowned and turned away, staring up at the veranda ceiling, as he often did when they played bridge out there because of the heat.

The cattle-trader’s widow did not speak to the Captain about what had happened at the party. But she was worried; she was very fond of the Captain’s company, and she would be devastated if there were any scandal and the Captain were obliged to go away. It would be the end of her world, she thought. No more bridge. No more dinner parties. It would be the end of everything.

The judge’s wife spoke directly. ‘There’s something going on,’ she said. ‘That boy is blackmailing the Captain. It’s pretty obvious, wouldn’t you say?’

‘We need to get rid of him,’ said the cattle-trader’s widow.

The judge’s wife, who had been looking out of the window at her beds of Namaqualand daisies, turned round sharply. ‘But he’s refused to go,’ she said.

6

They all played bridge the following Thursday. The Captain arrived late – they always started at seven-thirty, after dinner, and he did not arrive until a quarter to eight. They saw the lights of his car sweep across the wall as he swung round the curve of the drive.

‘That’ll be the Captain,’ said the judge’s wife. ‘He’s normally so punctual.’

The bridge game started. The Captain and the cattle-trader’s widow held all the strong cards, it seemed, but the Captain was quiet.

The judge’s wife asked after the boy. Was he still teaching cricket at the school? ‘No,’ said the Captain. ‘He’s gone.’

The judge looked up from his cards. ‘Probably about time,’ he muttered. ‘How long had he been staying with you?’

The judge’s wife glanced at the cattle-trader’s widow, who was counting points in her hand. The judge’s wife had noticed that the other woman had not been surprised that the Captain was late. Had she known?

‘One heart,’ said the cattle-trader’s widow.

7

Over the next few days, the judge’s wife found it difficult to think about anything other than the Captain’s revelation that the boy had gone. It was to be expected that he would go – eventually – but she had not imagined that it would be easy for the Captain to get rid of him at this stage. She had asked the Captain about him at bridge, but she had not got much of a reply. Yes, he had gone, up to Lusaka. No, he had no idea what he was going to do up there. He had an uncle there, he thought, but he was not sure.