Oh, we mustn’t. We’ll go to hell.’
‘Heaven.’
‘I’m afraid.’
‘There’s nothing to be afraid of. Do you see my eyes? They can look right inside you. And you know what I see, don’t you? You want me to make love to you. And I’m going to. And there’s nothing to fear, because you belong to me. You know that, don’t you? You belong to me, Margaret. You say it. I belong to Ian. Go on. I – belong – to – Ian.’
‘I belong – to Ian.’
His lips were on hers again, and he began to undo the hooks on the back of her bodice. In a moment she stood naked in the soft breeze, and he lowered her gently down to the ground. And the tremulous passage from girlhood to womanhood became an exciting, soaring experience that made Margaret feel more alive than she had ever felt in her life. I’ll remember this moment forever, she thought. The bed of leaves and the warm caressing breeze on her naked skin, the shadow of the baobab tree that dappled their bodies. They made love again, and it was even more wonderful. She thought, No woman could ever love anyone as much as I love this man.
When they were spent, Jamie held her in his strong arms, and she wished she could be there forever. She looked up at him and whispered, ‘What are you thinking?’
He grinned and whispered back, ‘That I’m bloody starving.’
She laughed, and they rose and had their lunch under the shelter of the trees. Afterwards they swam and lay down to let the hot sun dry them. Jamie took Margaret again, and she thought, I want this day to go on forever.
That evening, Jamie and Van der Merwe were seated at a corner table at the Sundowner. ‘You were right,’ Jamie announced. ‘The possibilities here may be greater than I thought.’
Van der Merwe beamed. ‘I knew you were too clever a man not to see that, Mr Travis.’
‘What exactly would you advise me to do?’ Jamie asked.
Van der Merwe glanced around and lowered his voice. ‘Just today I got some information on a big new diamond strike north of Pniel. There are ten claims still available. We can divide them up between us. I’ll put up fifty thousand pounds for five claims, and you put up fifty thousand pounds for the other five. There are diamonds there by the bushel. We can make millions overnight. What do you think?’
Jamie knew exactly what he thought. Van der Merwe would keep the claims that were profitable and Jamie would end up with the others. In addition, Jamie would have been willing to bet his life that Van der Merwe was not putting up one shilling.
‘It sounds interesting,’ Jamie said. ‘How many prospectors are involved?’
‘Only two.’
‘Why does it take so much money?’ he asked innocently.
‘Ah, that’s an intelligent question.’ He leaned forwards in his chair. ‘You see, they know the value of their claim, but they don’t have the money to operate it. That’s where you and I come in. We give them one hundred thousand pounds and let them keep twenty percent of their fields.
He slipped the twenty percent in so smoothly that it almost went by unnoticed. Jamie was certain the prospectors would be cheated of their diamonds and their money. It would all flow to Van der Merwe.
‘We’ll have to move fast,’ Van der Merwe warned. ‘As soon as word of this leaks out –’
‘Let’s not lose it,’ Jamie urged.
Van der Merwe smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll have the contracts drawn up right away.’
In Afrikaans, Jamie thought.
‘Now, there are a few other deals I find very interesting, Ian.’
Because it was important to keep his new partner happy, Van der Merwe no longer objected when Jamie asked that Margaret show him around the countryside. Margaret was more in love with Jamie every day. He was the last thing she thought of when she went to bed at night, and the first thing she thought of when she opened her eyes in the morning. Jamie had loosed a sensuality in her that she had not even known existed. It was as though she had suddenly discovered what her body was for, and all the things she had been taught to be ashamed of became glorious gifts to bring pleasure to Jamie. And to herself. Love was a wonderful new country to be explored. A sensual land of hidden valleys and exciting dales and glens and rivers of honey. She could not get enough of it.
In the vast sweep of the countryside, it was easy to find isolated places where they could make love, and each time for Margaret was as exciting as the first time.
The old guilt about her father haunted her. Salomon van der Merwe was an elder of the Dutch Reformed Church, and Margaret knew if he ever found out what she was doing, there would be no forgiveness. Even in the rough frontier community where they lived, where men took their pleasures where they found them, there would be no understanding. There were only two kinds of women in the world – nice girls and whores – and a nice girl did not let a man touch her unless she was married to him. So she would be labelled a whore. It’s so unfair, she thought. The giving and taking of love is too beautiful to be evil. But her growing concern finally made Margaret bring up the subject of marriage.
They were driving along the Vaal River when Margaret spoke. ‘Ian, you know how much I –’ She did not know how to go on. ‘That is, you and I –’ In desperation she blurted out, ‘How do you feel about marriage?’
Jamie laughed. ‘I’m all for it, Margaret. I’m all for it.’
She joined him in his laughter. It was the happiest moment of her life.
On Sunday morning, Salomon van der Merwe invited Jamie to accompany him and Margaret to church. The Nederduits Hervormde Kerk was a large, impressive building done in bastard Gothic, with the pulpit at one end and a huge organ at the other. When they walked in the door, Van der Merwe was greeted with great respect.
‘I helped build this church,’ he told Jamie proudly. ‘I’m a deacon here.’
The service was brimstone and hellfire, and Van der Merwe sat there, rapt, nodding eagerly, accepting the minister’s every word.
He’s God’s man on Sunday, Jamie thought, and the rest of the week he belongs to the devil.
Van der Merwe had placed himself between the two young people, but Margaret was conscious of Jamie’s nearness all through the service. It’s a good thing – she smiled nervously to herself – that the minister doesn’t know what I’m thinking about.
That evening, Jamie went to visit the Sundowner Saloon. Smit was behind the bar serving drinks. His face brightened when he saw Jamie.
‘Good evenin’, Mr Travis. What will you have, sir? The usual?’
‘Not tonight, Smit. I want to talk to you. In the back room.’
‘Certainly, sir.’ Smit scented money to be made. He turned to his assistant. ‘Mind the bar.’
The back room of the Sundowner was no more than a closet, but it afforded privacy. It contained a round table with four chairs, and in the centre of the table was a lantern. Smit lit it.
‘Sit down,’ Jamie said.
Smit took a chair. ‘Yes, sir. How can I help you?’
‘It’s you I’ve come to help, Smit.’
Smit beamed. ‘Really, sir?’
‘Yes.’ Jamie took out a long, thin cigar and lighted it. ‘I’ve decided to let you live.’
An uncertain look flickered over Smit’s face. ‘I – I don’t understand, Mr Travis.’
‘Not Travis. The name is McGregor. Jamie McGregor. Remember? A year ago you set me up to be killed.