Stephen half stretched in his sleep, muttered something incomprehensible and curled up once more on his side. A terrible feeling of desolation swept through Ginie: the loneliness of a secret she could never share.

Part Three

PART THREE

12 Stephen, Rhodesia, 1950s

12

Stephen, Rhodesia, 1950s

One hazy, humid afternoon, Stephen was in his study writing to Sam. Through the windows, he could see the sun hanging red and enlarged, wreathed in vapour.

The shrill ring of the telephone cut through the stillness. Irritated, he put down his pen and hurried to answer it. He was about to lift the receiver when he realised there was a snake coiled around it, like rope. Snatching his hand back, he felt his breath go, as if someone had rammed him in the chest.

He stood frozen, staring for what felt like a lifetime. Then he regained his wits and ran to fetch a walking stick. Fear was sparking through him, but he forced himself to give the snake a good nudge with it. The creature unwound itself from the phone and looped around the stick. Judging from its colouring, it was a puff adder: light tan overlaid with darker U-shaped bands and a pale yellow belly, dotted with a few black spots. It looked as though it was about to strike, so Stephen hastened to the garden, holding the stick as far away from his body as he could. He flung the creature into a flower bed and it slithered away at once. Willing his anxious heart to stop racing, he went indoors and told Dixon what had happened. The phone had stopped ringing.

‘A puff adder,’ repeated Dixon. He seemed afraid, so Stephen reassured him that the snake was no longer in the house. Dixon turned away from him without speaking.

‘What is it?’ Stephen asked, concerned and confused.

‘Bad luck, nkosi.’ He addressed Stephen as ‘chief’ in his mother tongue, Shona.

‘Why?’

For a long time, Dixon did not speak and Stephen thought he wasn’t going to reply. But he lifted his chin, gave Stephen a long, worried look and said, ‘This is a bad omen. Zvakaipa. It means you are in danger.’

Dixon had been educated in a mission school. His mother, a devout Christian, had saved up to send him to a Christian school. Now that he had full-time work, he regularly sent money and clothes back to her village, yet there seemed to be no limit to the things she needed. Stephen was surprised Dixon was so superstitious. He could hardly recognise his good-natured employee in this anxious man standing before him.

The next time he came across Dixon, Stephen tried to deal with his own discomfort by joking gently, ‘When is the danger going to catch up with me, eh?’

Dixon laughed and shook his head, saying uneasily, ‘I don’t know, nkosi. Better not to tempt it.’