Chapter 7

That same Tuesday Moira, as had become her habit, listened to the one o'clock news bulletin as she ate her lunch. To her horror there was report of an atrocity in north-eastern Sierra Leone. Muslim terrorists had come over the border from Guinea and seized a small town. It was feared that over thirty people had been killed. The British High Commission in Freetown had no news of any British casualties.

That was scant relief to Moira. She did not know where in Sierra Leone David was. He might be in the next place to be attacked. It was all very well the High Commission saying that they had no news of British casualties. They probably had no news at all nor would David's headquarters at Basingstoke so nor would his parents. She wanted badly to ring Caroline but it would only add to her worry. She felt sure that Caroline would ring her as soon as she had any news for her. There was no one she could talk to. Her father, when he came home, would show no interest or sympathy. Alison would be at work.

"I'll go for a walk," she decided but then changed her mind. She might miss a call from Caroline. "I ought to go and visit Mum. No. I can't do that for the same reason. Oh David, my darling, please be safe. Please, please, please."

There was nothing for her to do. With all the time she had on her hands the house was spotless and the garden completely under control. Unable to finish her lunch, she threw what remained away and washed up. She went up to her room and collected the book she was reading. She sat at the kitchen table and opened it but could do no more than stare at the page.

The telephone rang. She leapt for it.

"Caroline?"

"No, dear. Jean Carnoustie. Are you waiting for a call?"

"No, er, well sort of."

"You don't sound yourself. Is something wrong?"

"No, at least I hope not."

"Can I help?"

"No, it's just..." It became too much for her and she burst into tears.

Jean waited. She could just have put the phone down but she was a compassionate soul. That plus her welfare training made her hold on. She might not be able to help Moira practically but she might be able to comfort her. Eventually Moira was merely hiccupping.

"Tell me, Moira," said Jean softly.

"It's just that my boyfriend ... my fiancé in all but fact ... is-is s-somewhere in Sierra Leone a-and they've j-just had a t-terrorist attack out there and I'm worried about him. I-I thought you m-might be his m-mother with some news."

"Oh, my dear, what a horrid situation to be in. You've no idea whereabouts he is?"

"N-no. It's a civil engineering thing somewhere out in the ulu and they're not on the internet."

"I'm sure they're in radio contact with their base in the UK and would have radioed if they were in trouble."

"Oh, Jean, do you think so?"

"Yes, dear. I do. Quite definitely."

"Oh, Jean, thank you. That's helped a lot. It really has."

"I'm glad. The reason I rang you, my dear, is to tell you that we've got a hearing next Tuesday in court to put the case for your mother to go into permanent care. Your father should receive the summons tomorrow or Thursday. You will probably be called to give evidence too."

"Oh Jean, I don't want to appear to be ganging up on my father."

"I'm sure you don't and I will advise our counsel accordingly. Are you worried that he might knock you about?"

"A bit but I don't think he will even though there will be a thoroughly unpleasant atmosphere for a while. It won't be because Mum won't be coming home but because it will cost him a bomb."

"No, dear. The contribution will be assessed against his earnings."

"Hmm. He'll still consider it too much and of course his pride and dignity will be dented."

Jean was not going to be drawn on that but privately she thought a few dents might not be a bad idea.

"Right, my dear," she said, "I'll see you next Tuesday but if you want to ring and have a chat don't hesitate. I'd quite like to hear that your fiancé is safe. When's he due back?"

"Next Saturday or early Sunday."

"You'll both be in my prayers. Goodbye, Moira dear."

"Goodbye Jean and thanks."

The full import of what was about to happen hit Moira. Her father was going to hold it all against her. David was going to want her to leave him and return down south. That was what she would want to do too. She was sure Daniel would support her. The interim was going to be pretty unpleasant though. She would have to organise some form of home help for her father, ideally someone who would come in each day while he was working to clean, do the laundry, shop for food and cook his supper. He could jolly well boil himself a couple of eggs and toast some bread for breakfast.

She thought some more on how to make all this work. She would need to talk to both David and Daniel about it. All this took her mind off David's possible predicament. She was startled when the telephone rang. She answered it.

"Hello, Moira sweety, Caroline. I just rang..."

"Is he safe?"

"Yes, sweety."

"Oh God! Oh thank you, God! Oh, Caroline!"

"Thought that might cheer you up."

"Has it ever! Oh, Caroline! Tell me more."

"Well, as you probably heard on the radio there's been a ghastly attack on a village up in the north-east."