Chapter 6

Andrea, now wide awake, came back with Roxy into the lounge, carrying a tray of coffee. Roxy had a packet of “Eet-Sum-Mor” shortbread cookies, my favourite biscuits.

“Now, spit it out!” Roxy demanded while Bushy just sat grinning.

“Yeah and skip the ‘Once-upon-upon-a-time’, yada, yada, yada...” Andrea commanded.

“Boy! It doesn’t look like that what I did is appreciated,” I sighed.

“We don’t know what you did, yet!” Andrea challenged.

“Okay! Here goes. Beginning at 16:20 this afternoon, four options to buy shares in the Quad Five Investments company were taken and finalised; paid, stamped and sealed. Thirty percent of the company’s available stock was purchased by the Goldwin Eberlin Investment Trust, followed minutes later by a transaction of twenty-five percent more of Q5 stock. This time the sale was in my name.”

“That means fifty-five percent of their stock is now held between you and this Goldi-whatsome-a-called place?” Andrea remarked, leaning sideways away from me and resting her back half on the armrest of the couch. She folded her arms across her chest and gave me the evil eye. “What does that mean ... That you and Goldy now OWN Q5?”

“In effect ... Yes!” I said, and took a sip of my coffee, then reached for another Eet-Sum-Mor shortbread cookie.

“So, you now control what is to become of Andrea’s farm?” Bushy ventured.

“Yes, again.” And I dunked my cookie into my coffee, took it out and ate it. I then reached for another cookie.

“Who is this Goldy place?” Roxy asked.

“Goldwin Eberlin Investment Trust is a subsidiary of Arno De Lange Incorporated.” Again, I dunked my second cookie and ate it. “Meaning that Arno De Lange Incorporated now wholly owns Q5 Investments. I just need to fire the board and appoint a new one.”

“Damn!” Bushy said. Andrea and Roxy were stone silent, staring at me, wide-eyed.

“They are not going to take this lying down!” I said. “But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to that bridge...”

“So, what now?” Roxy asked.

“The security firm looking after Andrea’s farm will be fired in the morning, and a new firm appointed. A firm with whom I did much business in the past.”

“So, she can go back to the farm?”

“In effect, yes.” Dunking my third cookie in the coffee. “You guys better get some of these cookies, or else I’ll eat them all.”

“And what about a little country law firm you also bought?” Andrea asked.

“Well now, Miller & Miller’s name will change...”

“What! You also bought out Miller & Miller?”

“Indeed, I did. I told old Edgar it is time he retired before he loses his pension. He seems to think that it’s the best option, under the circumstances.”

“Damn! I’d rather be your friend than your enemy. What does Ash say?”

“He’s going along with my plan of world domination...” And I took my fourth cookie.

“Let me get a cookie before Dusty eats them all,” Bushy chuckled and took a cookie from the plate.

“Andrea, do you have your ID document with you?”

“Yes, why?”

“You need it to identify yourself to the security.”

“Are ... are we ... we’re going back to ... Morningside?”

“Yes, day after tomorrow. Let Ash and me first make sure the coast is clear...”

Andrea burst into tears. I placed my coffee on the coffee table and pulled her to me. I held her close while she sobbed.

“I ... I ... am ... going ... home...” She sobbed, showing again just how important it was for her to go to the place she calls home; her place of safety; her domain.

Roxy came over and knelt next to Andrea, taking Andrea’s left hand in hers.

“Be happy, Andie. Don’t cry.”

“I ... am ... happyyyyy...” Andrea wailed.

I pulled her closer and tight against me. “Sjuu, don’t cry, Goldilocks. Don’t cry...” I said, stroking her head. She sniffled and placed her head on my shoulder.

“I can’t wait...” She sniffed. “I need to go see if my horses are okay...”

“I’ll have the security do an inventory and get a vet to go out and see to the condition of all the animals,” I soothed, stroking her hair. “And if there’s anything in the slightest wrong, there will be hell to play.”

“Thank you, Dusty ... for all you have done, and thinking of the animals.” she sniffled, and looked up into my eyes. The ice-blue eyes were a little bluer or was it because her eye pupils were slightly dilated? The slight smile on her lips just ached for me to draw her in and kiss her, but I let it slide.

“It’s a pleasure, Andrea. I can’t stand by and watch this injustice be done to you.”

“I think the time has come for us to leave these two...” Roxy whispered to Bushy.

“Let’s withdraw...” he agreed, got up, took Roxy’s hand, and together they slipped silently away.

Andrea said nothing, just curled herself up against me, drew her feet up beside her on the couch, put her head on my chest, and held on to me. The fragrance of her hair, like the smell of roses in the early morning dew, came softly to me.

From down by the beach, the sound of the ever-in-motion ocean waves came echoing up to us, playing like rhythmic eternal music, softly in the background.

We sat like that in silence, neither saying a word. Andrea’s soft rhythmic breathing made me think she was asleep.

“We better go inside and go to sleep, don’t you think?” I said after a while.

“Ten minutes more...” She whispered.

“Okay, ten minutes...” I whispered in reply.

Ten minutes became twenty minutes, and then thirty minutes. Eventually she disentangled herself from me, stretched and then said:

“Let’s go sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day too.”

“How come a long day?”

“The wait for Ash to phone and tell you the coast is clear.”

“Oh, that,” I said. “Are you anxious to get back ... home?”

“Yeah ... I’ll pack up and go right now, if I only could...”

“Patience, dear Andrea. Patience is the key to success.”

“As always you are right...” She replied, looking at me and playing with a lock of her hair while her eyes never left my face, keeping eye contact.

“Let’s do that tomorrow: Wait for Ash’s report and then fly home. At least we’ll be okay in Greyton at the hotel,” I said and clasped my hands together, crossing my legs.

“With you buying out old mister Miller, there’s no-one to blab that we’re back in town,” she reasoned, and sat back against the couch back rest and crossed her legs.

“Nope. We will be okay there for a day or two.”

“And you can go and spoil me with cheesecake again and tell me lies about my bathroom scale,” She said, and I remembered the day I told her about not to worry about one old silly slice of cheesecake.

“And we can go down that little side street again.”

“But now I need to get my beauty sleep. It’s past eleven...”

“Is that how you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Sleep to get to be so pretty...” I answered.

She burst out laughing. “Thank you for thinking I’m pretty...” And she blushed. “See! You made me blush again.”

“You are pretty when you blush.”

“Stop it!” And she started to giggle uncontrollably.

“Okay. Let me escort you inside,” I offered, rose, and held out my hand for her. She took my hand and got up as well. Together we walked back inside, Andrea still holding my hand.

“Good night, Dusty. Sleep well,” She said as we got to her bedroom door. Then she went into her bedroom, slowly closing the door, still keeping eye contact with me.

“Good night, Andie, Sleep well...” I said and turned away. This little creature is starting to creep in under my skin. But her body language keeps saying that she wants our relationship to go further, or am I reading her wrong?

I had known that she is going through major trauma right now, and relationships that form in traumatic situations rarely survive the after-effects.

I took a long time to get to sleep. The little blue-eye blond face did not want to leave my mind’s eye. She laughs at my silly jokes, remembers little things I do or say, fidgets with her hair when she speaks to me, keeps eye contact with me, mimics my gestures, and blushes a lot. Does all this mean that she wants something more than a friendship? I just don’t know. Time will tell. She is vulnerable right now, and I can’t let that cloud my mind to use it to force a relationship.

Let’s look in on Bushy and Roxy.

The climate control was doing its job. Bushy set the temperature to twenty-six degrees Celsius and the humidity control to 20%. The soft whir of the air conditioner did not intrude.

Roxy was lying on face-down the king-size bed, her small nude body looking lost on the huge bed. Bushy was stroking her back while she purred with pleasure. Her long raven black hair splayed out over the pillows, and Bushy switched from stroking to massaging her neck, shoulders, and along her back to her butt; rubbing in the body lotion as he went.

“Do you think that those two are going to find one another?” Roxy whispered into the pillow.

“Now don’t you go and play matchmaker like you did with Ronny and Darya,” Bushy replied.

“I can’t help to nudge them in the right direction?”

“No! Let them work it out themselves. Besides, I don’t think they know one another for longer than a week.”

“So, how long did you know me?”

“A week and a half...” he sighed in almost-defeat. “What’s your point?”

“The heart wants what the heart wants...”

“Well, If I look at those two and read their body language, sparks are about to fly shortly.”

“So, I must just stand by idly and watch from the sidelines?”

“Yes. Don’t interfere. They are like two magnets, still dancing around one another. But when they connect, watch the collision.”

“Yeah ... It’s going to be epic. I think that Dusty is already making a move.”

“Why do you say so? I think he is not reading the signs.”

“Well, when we went shopping today, she used his credit card.”

“No way!”

“Yes, way. He must have slipped it to her under the table at the restaurant without us seeing it.”

“I thought she seemed a little too reluctant to go shopping...” Bushy began, and he switched to work her shoulder muscles.

“Hmm...”

“ ... then suddenly she was willing to go,” Bushy continued.

“I think with all this crap about her farm being crooked right out from under her, she might be starved for cash and doesn’t want to let on.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“I ... I believe I would, if placed in her predicament.”

“Then don’t you think Dusty is just seeing her as a girl in distress that needs a little slack, and she sees him as a father figure?”

“I did not think about that ... Maybe ... I want to see more in the situation.”

“Yeah, like with Ronny and Darya?”

“Those two were a collision waiting to happen. I just withdrew slowly and let them bash together!”

“Did you really hurt your ankle that night with the mortar attack?”

“No...” Roxy confessed and turned over on her back, exposing herself to his gaze in her full glory. “And don’t you go and blab about it!”

“Then leave Andrea and Dusty alone to work things out themselves. And I won’t say anything about you not hurting your ankle that night in Somalia. NOW, turn back. I’m not finished yet!”

“Oh, I thought you wanted to plug in...” Giggle.

“Roxy!”

“What?”

“Never mind...” Bushy sighed, leaned over, placed both his hands on Roxy’s breasts and kissed her, while rubbing her nipples with his thumbs.

“Hmm...” escaped her lips, and her legs involuntarily fell open.

Morning broke with the promise of a glorious day under the African sun: not a cloud in the sky, and with only a slight haze on the far horizon. The sea shimmered in the early light of the rising sun.

Out on the rocks to the right of the penthouse, rock fishermen were standing with long rods, teasing the fish with different forms of smelly bait. The tight silver threads of their lines flashed in the sunlight.

A few early beach walkers strolled along on the white sand. Around the high-water mark the debris of last evening’s storm: driftwood, torn-up seaweed, shattered seashells, and various now-dead sea life lay strewn on the beach.

I noted the strollers on the beach giving the high-water debris a wide berth, and I knew that there were freshly beached bluebottles on the sand, driven out onto the beach by the waves and the wind.

Step onto one of those bluebottles, and you will know why it’s also called a Man-of-War! Where it stings you, it will burn with the fury of a hell-fire from a million microscopic stings on one tentacle. Trust me; no sting of a wasp gets near the sting of a bluebottle.

The aroma of coffee and freshly made toast floated to me out here on the balcony, and I went in search of the breakfast.

In the lavish and functionally designed kitchen, Roxy and Andrea, both still dressed in their nighties, were dancing with skillets and pans around the stove while Bushy sat at the breakfast nook sipping coffee. Nice legs showed, and of course I looked.

“Ah, good morning, Dusty. Grab some coffee and come join me here before you get whacked on the head with a pan or something.”

“Good morning you guys!” I greeted and was greeted in return by the two girls as they kept creating something smelling delicious and continued their dance around the kitchen island and stove.

“Here,” A smiling Andrea said as she handed me a mug of coffee. “Now get out from under our feet and go join Bushy!”

“Seems like we are relegated to the side-lines this morning,” I remarked to Bushy as I sat down across from him. My cell phone chimed an incoming text message, and I idly opened the app while sipping my coffee. One line of text:

“We’ve not been idle ourselves. Watch the 07:00 news. AND keep you-know-who away from the TV set! Ash.”, the message read, and I looked at my watch. Ten minutes to 07:00.

“Breakfast will be served out on the balcony in twenty minutes!” Roxy declared.

“Yes, and let me go and get dressed before Dusty’s eyes pop!” Andrea chirped and skipped off to her bedroom, looking back over her shoulder at me with a smile on her face, and a twinkle flashed in her eyes.

“Good!” I said and got up. I went over to the TV and switched it on with the remote control. I flipped the channels until I got to the news channel.

“You want to watch the news?” Bushy asked.

“There might be something important on...” I responded as the news reporter came on.

“ ... and in a bulletin just in ... A twenty-four-year-old man was arrested late last night concerning the death of a Caledon farmer and his wife.” The newscaster announced as a picture of a guy flashed onto the screen.

“Damien Ibrahim...” Roxy whispered, and her face went pale.

“Damien Ibrahim? You know him?” I asked, looking over my shoulder, but Andrea’s bedroom door was still closed.

“Yes. I know of him ... He’s allegedly the hitman for the Funky Boys gang in Cape Town.”

“ ... The suspect was arrested during a routine crime prevention operation, conducted by the South African Police Services.” The newscaster elaborated.

“Don’t let Andrea see or hear this. I’ll break it to her gently...” I said.

“Switch off the TV, and call Ash,” Bushy advised.

“ ... the suspect will appear in the Caledon Magistrates court today, pending an order of transfer to appear in the Cape Town Supreme Court on charges of murder; as well as possession of illegal firearms, ammunition, and a undisclosed amount of mandrax tablets...” The newscaster continued.

I switched the TV to a movie channel.

Both Roxy and Bushy looked at me with a concerned look on their faces.

“We, Ash and I, suspected it. There’s evidence that the Louw’s car was run off the road on the mountain pass...” I clarified for them.

“Shit!” Bushy commented.

“You’ve got to break this to Andie, very gently,” Roxy warned.

“I will, but let’s first enjoy breakfast...” I sighed. “In the meantime, keep Andie busy. I need to call Ash.

“Roger, Captain! Roxy the unmoveable will lay down stalling tactics...”, and she started to fiddle with the kitchen stuff.

I went out onto the balcony and used my cell to call Ash.

“I take it you saw the news?”

“Yeah, now spill the beans that were not in the bulletin.”

“Nothing much extra. During the Louw crash, it was witnessed by a shepherd caring for his flock. Just, the investigators did not deem it important to question him, seeing he was drunk when the accident happened. But...”

“But what?”

“There was a fifteen-year-old boy with the shepherd. My team got the info and questioned both the shepherd and his boy. Both gave the same story. The boy even got the registration number of the car that rammed the Louw’s car.”

“Nice! But it was stupid to use an identifiable car...”

“Not so stupid. It was a rental car. The asshole then had the car repaired by a backyard panel beater, and only after a week the rental company got wise. We got the guy’s details, but as you guessed, it was not him that rented the car. But the guy that rented the car led my team to the driver.”

“Okay...”

“With some gentle persuasion he gave up the name and address of the driver. Some high-level intervention from our side and Bob’s your uncle. We got the asshole.”

“Good. What now? How positive is it that this Damien guy is the right one?”

“Fingerprints he did not wipe, and a candy-bar wrapper that was in the car under the seat. His DNA was on the wrapper.”