Chapter 4

Somewhere at 9800 feet AGL just past the town of Queenstown.

Above the clouds the sun was bright, sitting low on the horizon and reflecting off the white cloud cover beneath us. We were flying east of east-north-east, and the sun was directly on Andrea’s one o’clock. She had flipped down the sun-visor and shifted it to her right, half covering the side window and thus keeping the sun out her eyes.

I let her fly for twenty-five minutes and then reactivated the autopilot. The aircraft swung a few degrees to the south before dipping down to 9800 feet and back on course.

“Phew! That was strenuous, but fun!” Andrea said as she sat back in her seat, her head on the headrest. “This girl is fast, and you have to think ahead of her! I’ll do it any time again.”

“It looked like you had fun. But let me get ready for our descent and vectoring into Margate.”

“But that is still just over an hour away...” She remarked.

“Yeah, it’s better to be prepared. The wind might have shifted and if this scud don’t clear soon, we’ll have to go in on instruments or divert to Port Alfred,” I clarified for her.

“Can this aircraft land on instruments?” Roxy asked from the back.

“This is no Boeing 787 with auto-land function, but I am an instrument rated pilot and can get us down by using the instruments that are available.”

“Yeah, this is in fact a boring flight and there’s not even a hostess around,” Bushy chimed in, and then exclaimed in agony as Roxy swatted him on the head.

“Behave yourself, Bushy, or else I can let Dusty drop you off on a cloud,” Roxy remarked and then looked down towards the scud below. “It looks kind of soft and marshmallow-y...”

We all laughed.

The overcast cleared as we went over the escapement. The foothills of the Drakensberg were clear and bathed in sunshine. I felt much better. To file an IFR flight-plan would identify the aircraft and where it is going, something Quad Five could trace and find us. Not that it bothered me much. I had other plans in place.

The landing in Margate was a formality. Runway 23 was active as usual, since the wind often blows from the south-east, and we landed on it. I had to use a little power to get us to the turn-off taxiway and then the apron.

Margate was considered a regional airport with all the functions of a good one-runway airport. There were a few car rental places, and we selected Europcar for our transportation. Bushy rented two SUVs: one for him and Roxy, and one for Andrea and me. Or would that be for Roxy and Andrea and for Bushy and me? Never mind, we will sort it out shortly.

“Right, follow us,” Bushy said, as he knew where the condo was, so I let him take the lead.

He took the road out of the airport parking and wound his way through the suburb of “Rodolo Park”, which took us past a big shopping mall.

“So, there’s a place we can buy food,” Andrea observed.

“Yes, but it just depends on where we’re located and if there are shops nearer.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get the lay of the land. It looks like Bushy and Roxy have been here before, so they will know the best places.”

We passed a place hidden under some tall trees that was called “Pistol Saloon and Wild West Museum.” Pictures of cowboys and gunfights adorned the wood structure’s walls.

“Might be a place that’s worth a visit,” I remarked.

“For a warm beer or a whiskey?” Andrea replied.

“Well, I hope they have whisky without the ‘e’.”

“Why whiskey without an ‘e’? What does it matter?”

“Whiskey from the old west is spelled with an ‘e’ before the ‘y’, and Scottish whisky is spelled without the ‘e’ before the ‘y’.”

“So what if it misses an ‘e’ or not. Whiskey is whisky, is whiskey...” Giggle.

“Oh brother,” I sighed, “save a nation with such a girl...”

Giggle.

“Did you ever drink whisky, Goldilocks?”

“Yeah! Once! It’s yacky,” and she pulled a face as she replied. “I’d rather drink something that tastes good and don’t cause pain.”

“Like a girlie-juice?”

“Yeah, watermelon flavour. And you can say what you wanted to call it.”

“What? A girlie-juice?”

“No. A slut-juice...”

“Good. I’ll remember to get you a six-pack. The Goldilocks of this world drink girlie-juice, not slutty-juice.”

“Ahh, that’s so sweet of you, mister Air-fix...” And I caught her looking sideways at me through the locks of flaxen hair that have fallen over the side of her face. Serves me right for calling her “Goldilocks.” This one has a fast brain; I’d better be vigilant. And who is it that said blonds are dumb? He’s in for a nasty surprise with this girl!

“I read somewhere that they have a donkey that visit you in the bar at that place?” Andrea asked.

“Yeah ... That’s the place. I heard about the old donkey too. Maybe we should come see if it is true,” I replied.

“And why do you call this the south coast? It’s the east coast of South Africa.”

“Okay, let me explain to you. This is the geographical east coast of South Africa. The province of KwaZulu-Natal has its capitol as the city of Pietermaritzburg, but the tourist revenue-generating city is Durban on the coast. Therefore, the locals call the coast north of Durban, the North Coast. And the coast south of Durban, the South Coast.”

“Oh,” Andrea replied. “But it’s also called the Hibiscus Coast.”

“Yeah, and the North Coast is called the Dolphin Coast,” I elaborated.

“Okay ... It makes sense if you say it like that.”

“The local radio station in Durban is called ‘East Coast Radio’,” I chuckled.

“Confusing!”

“Not so much. But try not to listen to East Coast Radio, 94.9 FM Stereo.”

“Why not?”

“They broadcast in a language you will find difficult to understand.”

“Oh! What language is that?”

“English...” Now why did I get swatted on the head? “Ouch! Hey! Watch it. I can run us off the road.”

“Doofus!”

“Cheese-Head!”

“Air-Fix!”

“Albino-chick-top!”

“How many names do you have for us blond girls?”

“At last count, about eighteen...” I grinned.

“Name them!”

“Now let’s see ... There’s Yellow Pages, Tweety-Pie, Bumble-Bee, Mustard-Top, Custard-cap...”

“STOP IT!”

Chuckle.

Giggle. “I forgot, you’re a legal eagle, you always get the last say...”

“Yes Dear...” And we both burst out laughing.

A telephone conversation.

“What do you mean they were not there?” The voice said.

“Just what I said. They were not in the rooms, and in both rooms were notes telling the hotel management that they went to Lamberts Bay for a few days,” Oliver replied, while fishing for a cigarette in his shirt pocket.

There was silence on the line. So much so that Oliver thought the connection was broken. Then the voice spoke again.

“Do you think this is coincidental, or were they warned about something?”

“How could they be warned? Who could have warned them?”

“A certain lawyer that might have an agenda of his own ... He was the only one that knew what was about to happen. However, he has much to lose. No, I think this was pure coincidental.”

“Well, we will be watching the Muisbosskerm. They are bound to show up there.”

“No ... Leave it. Come back here. There will be another opportunity to deal with the two.”

“Okay, you’re the boss. We will turn around...” Oliver reluctantly said.

“Good. I have another, more pressing matter for you.” The voice said, and the line went dead. Oliver just looked at the phone in his hand. Then he turned to the guy driving the car.

“Okay, turn around. We’re going home. Boss says he’s got something else for us...”

Southbroom, KZN South Coast.

The south wind was blowing, creating foam on the wave tops as they rolled in to the white sandy beach below. “There are small white horses on the sea, ” the locals everywhere around South Africa would remark. I was never able to figure out what the statement meant or where it came from. But there were miniature white horses riding the undulating waves as the south wind pushed them towards the beach.

The condo left an impression on me. In fact, I’d call it a penthouse. The penthouse, which ran the length of the top level of the three-story white building high up on the green covered cliff, had a 180-degree view of the shore. Under the steep cliff, jagged brown-black boulders stood in the froth of pounding sea waves. A tidal pool was set in some clay-coloured rocks to the south of the building, on the beach.

The tropical white sandy beach began just underneath the structure and extended to the south, Its brilliant glare of reflected sunlight blinded me. Rows upon rows of coconut palm trees stood firm above the high-water line, just the long dark-green branches swaying in the breeze.

Lower down, gigantic sterlitzias, wild fig trees, and other tropical vegetation formed a sort of barrier towards the beach from under the towering palms. Narrow walkways wound their way through the dense undergrowth to the shore, and a wooden walkway was constructed to the side. A tropical paradise in itself. Ash knows how to choose a location.

While strong sunlight shone down on the land and water, a thin layer of cloud was barely visible on the horizon. It remains to be seen if it will arrive this way or just vanish. Just vanish, I suppose.

“There are white horses on the water...” Andrea said next to me, and yet again I did not hear the barefooted girl walk up to me on the tile covered balcony.

“You know the saying?” I asked, looking down at the petite little thing next to me. She was trying in vain to get the wind-blown blond hair out of her face.

“Yeah, if you grew up in and around the water, you’d know that the crest of the mane may be seen, much like a horse’s mane. Pay close attention ... The gentle booming of the waves smashing sounds like hundreds of horse hooves pounding near the shore...” Andrea responded, and I was once again astounded by the way the brain within that cheese-top head worked.

“Andrea, you’re the first one to explain to me that little fact. Now I know where the saying comes from.”

Giggle. “The pleasure is mine. But if we don’t do something about lunch soon, you’ll have a dead Andrea on your hands, stinking up this nice place!”

“And we can’t have that! I suppose you don’t want another hamburger?”

“No. Why?”

“As we came in, I saw a hamburger-hut thingamajig on the main beach, right next to the road.”

“I saw it too. It’s within walking distance, and they might serve fish and chips.”

“But we can’t walk there...”

“Why not?”

“Because by the time we have walked back from there, we’ll be hungry again!”

“Doofus! You can take a doggy-bag for if you so think! And besides, it’s downhill from there. You can just roll down the road!”

“Shall we invite the other two along?”

“Yeah, we need to feed them too, you know?”

“Then let’s get going.”

“Yes, and this time let me pay for the meal.”

“If you so wish. I don’t mind paying...”

“I can’t keep mooching off you, Dusty...”

“You’re not mooching. I like to treat you...”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my friend and that is what friends do.”

“Okay, but this time, this friend will do the treating.”

“It could be expensive...” I warned.

“It’s okay...”

We ended up driving to the restaurant in the SUV Bushy and Roxy rented. Bushy was driving the two-hundred odd metres to the restaurant, Roxy riding shotgun and Andrea and me in the back.

The restaurant proved to be a star-rated place, and I saw the look on Andrea’s face.

“Let’s eat. I’ll worry about the tab,” I whispered in her ear, and she just nodded, affirming that she would like me to take over.

Andrea had her fish-n-chips, a battered deep-fried hake and chips, washed down with ice-cold Coke. Roxy went for the shrimp and feta cheese salad and also a Coke, while Dusty and I opted for the “surf-n-turf” rump steak topped with prawns, and the house special of ice-cold Castle Draught.

Then the conversation took a slight serious turn as Roxy declared:

“The pool looks so inviting, and I forgot to pack a swimsuit.”

“Well, we can go look in either Ramsgate or Margate for a swimsuit shop,” Bushy offered.

Andrea cringed.

“Well, why don’t you drive a little further and go to Shelly Centre at Shelly Beach. They are the biggest around and then just up the road next to the highway there’s the South Coast Mall,” I said.

“Good idea, I know where that is. Andrea, let’s ditch the boys and go shopping. It will do you good!”

“I...” Andrea started, and I touched her in the side under the table without drawing attention from the other two. She turned to me, and I took her hand under the table, placed my credit card in it and then closed her hand.

“I think you’ll have some fun. Go get yourself some casual summertime vacation stuff.”

She just looked at me.

“Go on. You two girls will have fun. I know it.”

Playing the game, Andrea smiled and winked at me, then mouthed “Thank you.”

I know how it feels to watch your funds, and Andrea was at her limit.

“While you girls are there at Shelly Centre, drop in to the grocery store and get us some stuff like good coffee, milk, eggs, bread, and whatever you fancy. Here, take my loyalty card. There’s still some bucks on it, so you don’t have to pay cash,” I said and gave Andrea my grocer loyalty card.

“You buy at this place? Well, I thought you’d go for a place like Woollies? Roxy asked.

“Woollies don’t have a loyalty card and this one works wonders. Every time I shop there I get discount on swiping my card. Also, I get awarded loyalty points that translate to a couple of bucks. Whenever I am on holiday, or a bit out of funds, I use the card and use the points to buy stuff,” I explained.

“You out of cash!” Bushy chuckled.

“It happens...” I solemnly replied.

“Shall we drop you guys off at the condo?” Roxy asked.

“Nah, Bushy and I are going to enjoy another after meal draught, and then walk back,” I answered. “Besides, I need to get some exercise.”

“Well, Andrea, let’s be off. The pool awaits!” Roxy exclaimed and got up. “See you boys later ... and stay out of trouble.”

“One-piece or a two-piece?” Andrea asked, looking at me and placing her hand on my hand under the table.

“The choice is yours. Go for what you like and that fits good,” I replied. “And one of those wrap-a-round thingies also. They usually come in sets.”

Andrea looked at me with a smile on her lips, but the expression in her eyes I could not fathom.

The girls left, Roxy chatting away to Andrea and Andrea just floating along. Bushy and I ordered another beer.

“Ash says that you are an Advocate of the Supreme Court?” Bushy started and sat back in his chair.

“Well, that is my profession. But I don’t actually go to court. For that I have minions to do the work.” I teased.

“You have other advocates working for you?”

“Advocates, lawyers and a few interns.”

“Wow! So you have an office and go to the office from 9 to 5?”

“I have a suite of offices. In fact, it’s an old seven-bedroom house, converted to offices, in a quiet side street in Bergvliet, in Southern Suburbs of the peninsula.”

“It sounds very relaxing,” Bushy observed.

“I do enjoy the serenity there, but most of the time I’m not there.”

“Yeah, I was about to ask you how does it tie in with flying those jumbos?”

“What else did Ash brief you on?” I countered.

“Well, that you are an asset to him and the foundation; that Rox and I must not get in your way but keep you safe.”

“And...?”

“To do whatever you require us to do without question.”

“Bushy, just relax and keep your eyes open. I don’t think we will be bothered here, so enjoy the break and let’s be friends.”

“I think that will be the way to go. You don’t come across as an unapproachable person. Very much down to earth.”

“That’s me! I do like what the Good Book instructs. Explore everything but keep holding on to the good. Let the sun shine for everybody ... But...”

“But what?”

“If things go south for someone, I can’t resist the urge to rescue them!”

“Like with Andrea?”

“Yes. Like with Andrea.”

“You’re a good person, Dusty. One of the few ... And speaking of one of the few, you better call Ash. I’ve reported in but told him you are a little busy with office stuff and will call him later.”

“Thanks, Bushy. I was about to call him after lunch.”

“Ash is also one of the few ... Do you know him personally?”

“We flew together a few times, mostly around South Africa, Namibia, Botswana and a few other African Countries. That Ash is one hell of a good pilot,” I said and finished my second beer. “If you’re done, we could go back to the condo?”

“Yeah, lets...” And Bushy got up. I paid the waiter, leaving a good tip. One never knows if we would be back here.