Mackenzie Ford - The Clouds Beneath the Sun

“Oh? Why? What are we doing?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“How many times has this bikini been in the water today?” Jack was rubbing sun lotion into Natalie’s back.

“You tell me. You’ve been ogling me every time. Reluquant , the French call it.”

“I haven’t been ‘ogling’ you, that’s a horrible word. I’ve been admiring you.”

“Nonsense. I haven’t been wearing very much, I agree. I only wore it because it’s Boxing Day, and you asked. But you’ve taken off what little I am wearing with your eyes.”

“That’s a form of admiration.”

“No it isn’t. Is your Swahili any better than your English?”

He patted her bottom. “You’re all done.” He lay down while she started on him.

“I never thought I’d be so good at doing nothing. All I’ve done for hours is lie on the sand, sleep, and swim.”

“You’d make a good hippopotamus.”

“I’ll snap at you like a turtle, if you’re not careful. And I don’t think I’ve ever been on such a beautiful beach so devoid of people.”

“And you’ve still got my Christmas present to come.”

“Why are you making me wait?”

“It’s a test of your character.”

“You tested my character last night, on the floor of the balcony. I came through with flying colors.”

“You mean you rebuffed me.”

“You misread the situation.”

“Meaning?”

“No, no. It was a test of your character as well. You have to work it out for yourself.”

He turned over, on to his back, and pulled her to him.

“Jack! We’re all lathered in sun lotion, and everyone can see.”

“Sun lotion isn’t lethal, and you yourself said the beach is deserted.”

He kissed her and she kissed him back. Then she turned him over again and resumed spreading sun lotion on his back.

“What time are we leaving tomorrow?”

“No hurry. Sometime in the morning, so we get to Nairobi around lunchtime. We’ll spend the afternoon preparing for the press conference.”

“You’re done,” said Natalie, lying back down on her towel alongside Jack. “The press conference,” she said, breathing out, “and then the trial. This little bit of paradise will soon be over—and then the real tests of character begin.”

“I’ve eaten too much.” Natalie patted her stomach in the darkness.

“Dinner was only fish. You’ll be hungry again at four in the morning.”

“Oh no. After all the sun and sea we’ve had, I’ll sleep like a baby tonight. With any luck, four o’clock will pass by as silently as that ship out there.”

They were sitting on the balcony that linked their rooms, as the night before. Again, only the solitary street light, and the stars, offered illumination.

“Where do you think that ship is going?”

A constellation of lights on the horizon was moving slowly right to left.

“What’s the most romantic place north of here?” Natalie stretched out her legs in front of her.

“Mogadishu, Djibouti, Suez, Karachi even.”

“Suez isn’t romantic, my father’s been—he says it’s a dump. Let’s imagine Mogadishu.”

“And I’ve been to Mogadishu. It’s more romantic here.”

“Hmm. So what cargo is it carrying? Slaves? Wild animals for a European zoo? Are they smuggling ivory?”

“It could be ivory, if it’s come from Zanzibar. That’s the center of ivory smuggling in this part of the world. More likely, it’s spices—Zanzibar is Africa’s leading exporter of cloves, also nutmeg and cinnamon. I don’t like cinnamon, and I can take or leave—”

“I don’t like those two men standing under the light, down the road.”

“What do you mean?” Jack sat up.

“There are two men, just beyond the light. They keep moving in and out of the shadows.”

He got to his feet and went to stand on the edge of the balcony. “Why should two men …? It’s Boxing Day, Natalie, you had too much whiskey at dinner. There’s a lot of unemployment in Lamu.”

She let a moment elapse as he sat down again. “I saw them yesterday, too. They were watching us as you were administering first aid, after my encounter with that sea urchin.”

“You’re making this up!”

“They were there again today, watching us on the beach. I haven’t mentioned it before because I couldn’t be certain it was the same two men—they were too far away, and there are a lot of men on Lamu who seem to have nothing to do. But, seeing them there again tonight, near that street lamp …”

“I can’t believe it. You think they are planning to rob us?”

“That’s one possibility. I can think of another.”

He looked at her.

“Maybe they are the mysterious friends of Richard Sutton Senior.”

“No! I’m going to ration your whiskey consumption.”

“Maybe they’ve established contact with someone on the staff at the camp in Kihara, who told them we were flying off here for Christmas. Maybe they think I was making a discreet bolt for it, stopping off here and then smuggling myself north and away, ahead of the trial.”

He shook his head. “All this sun, it’s gone to your head.”

“Look, now!” She pointed. “By the light.”

He stood up quickly. “Yes, yes, I see now. Two men. Two shapes anyway, two shadows. But you don’t know that they are the same as the men who watched you earlier today, or yesterday. I still think you are being … I can’t believe Richard Sutton would go to such lengths, or have such a reach as to have you followed to Lamu?” He shook his head. “It’s a crazy idea. You’re overreacting.”

“You weren’t there when he threatened me. You don’t know, at first hand, as I do, how … unpleasant, how crude , he can be.”

Jack sat down again. Both of them were breathing heavily. The ship, out to sea, had moved on, almost out of sight.

“Are you … are you frightened?”

She didn’t reply straight away. “A bit.”

“I can sleep on this chair, if you want—right outside your door—if that will make you feel safer.” He moved his chair closer to hers. “Of course, you’d be safer still if I was in the room with you. Think of it as my gift.” He grinned, lifted her hand, and kissed it.

“I thought you might say that.” She put her hand on his forehead. “I think the sun’s got to you, too.” She ran her fingers down his cheek. “But as it happens, on this occasion, I agree with you.”

“Good morning, everyone, and thank you for coming. I think we are about ready to begin, if you’d all like to sit down.”

Eleanor stood on the low stage in front of the gentle rake of seats in the main lecture hall in the Royal College in Nairobi. With her silver hair in the tightest of chignons, her crisp white shirt, and her wrap-over khaki skirt, Natalie thought she looked more French than ever.

The lecture hall had no windows, so it was cool. Huge saucer-shaped lights hung from black cables anchored in the wooden ceiling. A silver-white screen stood behind the stage. There were already fifty people in the room and more were still arriving.

Eleanor sat down at a long table, with microphones at the center. Natalie sat on her left, Daniel on her right, with Jonas Jefferson on his right. Most of the people in the room—though by no means all—were white. Jack, Christopher, and Arnold were in the front row. And in the second was—Russell North.

The evening before, Natalie, Jack, Christopher, Eleanor, and the rest of the team had eaten dinner together at a restaurant near the Rhodes Hotel after their meeting to discuss how the press conference should proceed. Natalie and Jack had just flown in from Lamu, Jack once again parking his Comanche where he could get a good look at the private jets on show at Nairobi International. Christopher and his mother had stayed behind with Daniel to discuss the slides they were going to show. Arnold and Jonas had gone off in search of a late-night beer, leaving Natalie and Jack to stroll back together to the hotel. In the lobby they had bumped into Russell.