Unofficial and Deniable. John Davis Gordon

‘You think that South Africa is going to rejoin the human race soon? When will this miracle come to pass?’

      Harker resented the tone, not the disbelief. ‘When the war in Angola ends – and that’s going to happen soon. There are overtures by Cuba already. Russia cannot afford the Angolan war much longer – it’s an economic basket case and this new president – Gorbachev – is pulling Russia’s horns in. Soon he’ll sue for peace. South Africa will readily accept because the Angolan war is our Vietnam too and these international sanctions are starting to bite hard.’ He took a sip of whisky. ‘When the communist threat is removed, the new South Africa will start.’

      Valentine looked dubious. ‘And then what? How do you feel about being governed by blacks?’

      Harker was tired of being subjected to tests. He said, ‘I’m cautiously optimistic.’

      Valentine frowned. ‘Why “cautiously”?’

      Harker sighed. ‘Well,’ Harker said, ‘the rest of Africa has been chaotically misgoverned. But there’s a chance it will be different in our case because the failures of Africa are in part attributable to Africa being a Cold War battle-ground – both Russia and China threw money at the black tyrants to get them on side and so the West did the same, so misgovernment was allowed to flourish. Tyranny, corruption, genocide, inefficiency were rewarded with more and more money which the tyrants put into their Swiss bank accounts while poverty and disease descended on their unfortunate people. So a culture of shameless corruption developed which was tolerated by the rest of the world. But when the Cold War ends, that tolerance will change – if black politicians do not behave they’ll have their aid cut off. So I think South Africa’s black leaders will not have the freedom to abuse the country as happened in the rest of Africa. They’ll have to behave themselves.’

      Valentine’s judicial countenance turned irritated. ‘Behave themselves? Isn’t that rather arrogant? Have you shared your views with Josephine?’

      Harker was irritated too: he resisted the temptation to say, They’re hardly views, they’re fucking facts. ‘Of course I have. And she agrees with some of it. On other points we agree to differ.’

      ‘And what do you think of this book she’s writing?’

      Harker hoped he was changing the focus. ‘Well, I don’t know much about it,’ he said.

      ‘But she says you’re her guru.’

      Harker was annoyed that Josephine had told him. ‘She discusses parts of it with me sometimes, but she only allows me to read small bits now and again. But what I’ve read is very good.’ He added, ‘I’m not acting as her editor.’

      ‘Nor, I believe, do you intend to publish it?’ Valentine added, ‘I must say I agree, never mix business with pleasure.’

      ‘It’s more a matter of finance, Denys. Harvest is a small house. We published twelve books last year – two of them lost money, the other ten made a respectable profit, but not enough to enable us to put the effort into Josie’s book that it will deserve – advertising, publicity tours, et cetera.’ He looked at the older man.

      ‘And what do you think of her agent, Priscilla Fischer.’

      ‘She’s a tough cookie, Priscilla. She’ll make sure Josie gets the best deal in town.’

      Denys Valentine took a sip of whisky, then said: ‘Reverting to the matter of you two living together. Have you any plans about marriage?’

      Harker smiled uncomfortably. ‘It’s a bit early to say – we’ve only known each other a few months. But we have talked about it. I think Josie feels she’d like to retain her freedom for a while yet, to experience more of the world. That’s not unusual in writers.’ He looked at the older man, and waited.

      ‘And how do you feel about that?’

      ‘If and when we get married I want her to feel she’s seen life and has plenty to write about.’

      ‘“If and when”? I’m pleased to hear that you’re so realistic about this.’ He took a self-conscious sip of whisky. ‘Because I also don’t think Josie’s ready for marriage yet. She’s an exceedingly intelligent and talented person and she shouldn’t be burdened with the responsibilities of marriage for a long time yet – children and so forth.’

      Harker understood loud and clear that he was being warned off. ‘Well, Josephine will know her own mind in the fullness of time.’

      ‘But will she?’ Valentine said. ‘Artistic people often don’t know their own minds about anything although they think they do. Heads in the clouds most of the time.’

      Harker resented the innuendo. ‘She’s always seemed pretty sensible to me, Denys.’

      ‘Oh, extremely intelligent – all her life she’s been an A-grade student capable of figuring things out for herself. But, for all that, she is a dreamer who is really motivated by … unrealistic, unwise impulses.’

      Unwise impulses like me? ‘Well, Denys, you seem to be in a most unsatisfactory situation. You don’t want Josephine to live in sin with me, and yet you don’t want her to marry me.’ He restrained himself from saying, ‘So what the hell are you going to do about it?’

      Valentine cleared his throat, fiddled with his glass, then said, ‘I’d like to ask you for your cooperation – yours and Josephine’s.’ He paused. ‘Don’t see each other for six months.’

      Harker was taken aback. ‘And after six months?’

      ‘If after six months you still want to be together, so be it. I’ll accept it, but you’ll only have my blessing if you marry.’

      Jesus. Harker wanted to smile. It was the sort of thing a father might say to the suitor of his teenage daughter. Before he could muster a response, Valentine continued.

      ‘I’m prepared to make it as easy as possible for the pair of you to cooperate – I’ll pay for Josie to go abroad for those six months. Anywhere she likes.’

      Jesus. You are prepared … The arrogance of it. ‘And if we do not cooperate with you?’

      ‘I regret having to say this, but if you do not, I will not give either of you the time of day ever again.’

      Harker looked at the man. Jesus. And Jesus again! He could not conceal his smile. ‘Have you discussed this with Josephine?’

      ‘Not yet. But she has an inkling of my disquiet.’

      Your disquiet? Harker took a breath. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I cannot speak for Josephine, of course, but I can assure you right now that you will not