“We have been in constant touch with your employers in Clerkenwell. Your mission society.”
“So they know exactly what’s happened?”
“They do, and they are less than delighted. With you, I mean, Mr. Eldred. I am assured they have forsworn any political involvement, any whatever.”
“It’s easy,” Anna said. “From Clerkenwell.”
“There is a suggestion …” the man hesitated. “That is, I am empowered to put to you a suggestion—”
“Yes?”
“That it would, as it were, save face—”
“For whom?”
“—for all concerned … if you were to leave voluntarily rather than be deported …”
“We’ve been through this,” Ralph said.
“… but without altogether quitting, as it were, your field of mission endeavor.”
“Do you speak English, Mr. Cooper?” Anna asked.
The man swallowed. “Do I understand that you have no wish to return to the United Kingdom as of this time?”
“No wish,” Ralph said. “No intention.”
“Mrs. Eldred?”
“I want to go home to Flower Street,” Anna said. “That’s what I want.”
“You know that is impossible.” A note of scolding entered the official’s voice. “The South African government will no longer have you on its territory. But I am directed to put to you, on behalf of your mission society, a proposal that you should take up a post, possibly a temporary one, in Bechuanaland, in the Bechuanaland Protectorate.”
“Clerkenwell is proposing this?”
“I am only the intermediary.”
“What do you mean by temporary?”
“They mean three months, probably,” Anna said. “Until the fuss dies down and the newspapers have forgotten about us and they can sneak us back into England and then sack us.”
“Oh, I hardly think—” Cooper began.
“Shut up, Cooper,” Ralph said. “No one is interested in what you think.”
A silence. They seemed to have reached an impasse. “My husband means,” Anna said, leaning forward, “that it would be better if you just gave us the facts. Where is this post they’re offering?”
“It is at a place called Mosadinyana. Remote, I understand.”
“That makes sense,” Ralph said. “Get us well out of the way.”
Anna put her hand on his arm. “Let’s listen to him.”
“As I understand it,” Cooper said, “the couple who ran the mission station have been repatriated on medical grounds. It is not a place of any size. There is a small school, I am told.” He looked at Anna. “There is a requirement for one teacher—”
“And what would I do?” Ralph said.
“Administer, Mr. Eldred. You would administer.”
“I’ve never heard of this place,” Anna said.
“Your Society describe it to me as a toehold,” Cooper said. “A toehold in the desert.” He seemed pleased with the phrase. “There is the possibility that in the years to come it may grow into something larger.”
“A foothold,” Ralph said.
“Is it on the railway line?”
“Not exactly,” Cooper said.
“What is there besides the school?”
“There might be a trading store,” Cooper said, frowning. “I could look into that.”
“If I went up there,” Ralph said, “do you think there is any possibility that at a later date I might be able to return to Elim?”
Cooper favored them with a thin smile. “Not unless there is a change of government, Mr. Eldred.”
“You are putting us in a very difficult position,” Anna said. “You are asking us to go up-country, to a place we know nothing about—”
“I am required to encourage you to regard it as temporary,” Cooper said. “I am required to assure you that should the posting prove unsuitable you can be replaced. Really, Mrs. Eldred, there is nothing to fear. The South African government—” he hesitated— “that is, it has been indicated to me—the South African government would have no objection to your traveling through their territory to take up this post. But should you refuse the opportunity, they have reserved two seats on a flight to London departing tomorrow.”
Ralph and Anna looked at each other. “Tomorrow,” Anna said. “That’s ludicrous. We couldn’t possibly leave at that sort of notice. We have to put everything in order at Flower Street, it will take a month at least to hand over to
