I saw my ma lying in the grave. It was a terrible thing.
Then it changed, Manie, it wasn't my ma any more, it was you. You were so pale and handsome, but I knew I had lost you, and I was so eaten by my own sorrow that I wanted to die also and be with you for ever. He reached out and took her in his arms and she sobbed and fell against him. Her body felt so cool and soft and compliant and her voice shook.
Oh, Manie. I don't want to lose you. Please come back to me, without you I don't want to go on living. I love you, Sarie. His voice was hoarse and she jerked in his arms.
Oh Manie. I never realized it before, he croaked.
oh Manie, I have always realized it. I loved you from the first minute of the first day, and I will love you until the last, she cried, and turned her mouth up to his. Kiss me, Manie, kiss me or I will die. The touch of her mouth ignited something within him, and the fire and the smoke of it obscured reason and reality.
Then they were under the pines beside the path, lying on a bed of soft needles, and the sultry autumn air was soft as silk upon his bare back, but not as soft as her body beneath his nor as hot as the liquid depths in which she engulfed him.
He did not understand what had happened until she cried out, in pain and intense joy, but by then it was too late and he found himself answering her cry, no longer able to draw back, carried along on a swirling tidal wave to a place he had never been before, nor had he even dreamed of its existence.
Reality and consciousness returned slowly from far away, and he drew away from her and stared at her in horror, putting on his own clothing.
What we have done is wicked beyond forgiveness No. She shook her head vehemently and, still naked, reached for him. No, Manie, it's not wicked when two people love each other. How can it be wicked?
It's a thing from God, beautiful and holy. The night before Manfred sailed for Europe with Uncle Tromp and the team, he slept in his old room at the Manse.
When the old house was dark and quiet, Sarah crept down the passage. He had left his door unlatched. Nor did he protest as she let her nightdress fall and crept under the sheet beside him.
She stayed until the doves in the oaks outside the stoep began fluttering and softly cooing. Then she kissed him one last time and whispered: Now we belong to each other, for ever and always. It was only half an hour before sailing and Centaine's stateroom was so crowded that the stewards were forced to pass the champagne glasses over the heads of the guests, and it required a major expedition to get from one side of the cabin to the other. The only one of Centaine's friends who was not present was Blaine Malcomess. They had decided not to advertise the fact that they were sailing on the same mail ship, and had agreed only to meet once they were clear of the harbour.
Both Abe Abrahams, bursting with pride, his arm hooked through David's, and Dr Twenty-man-jones, tall and lugubrious as a marabou stork, were in the party around Centaine.
They had come all the way down from Windhoek to see her off. Naturally, Sir Garry and Anna were there, as were the Ou Baas General Smuts, and his little fluffy-haired wife with her steel-rimmed spectacles making her look like an ad:rtisement for Mazzawattee tea.
the far corner Shasa was surrounded by a bevy of young ladies, and was in the middle of a story that was being followed with shrieks of amusement and gasps of increduous wo rider, when suddenly he lost track of what he had been saying and stared out of the porthole beside him.
Through it he had a view out onto the boat deck, and what had caught his attention was a glimpse of a girl's head as she passed.
He couldn't see her face, just the side and back of her head, a cascade of auburn curls set on a long slim neck, and a little ear sticking out of the curls at a jaunty angle. It was a fleeting glimpse only, but something about the angle and carriage of that head made him lose immediate interest in the females in front of him.
He went up on his toes, spilling champagne, and stuck his head through the porthole, but the girl had passed by and he only had a back view of her. She had an impossibly narrow waist but a cheeky little rump that switched from side to side and made her skirts swing rhythmically as she walked. Her calves were perfectly turned and her ankles slim and neat. She went round the corner with a last twitch of her bottom, leaving Shasa determined that he must get a look at her face.
Excuse me, ladies. His audience gave little cries of disappointment, but he eased himself neatly out of their circle and began working his way towards the door. But before he reached it, the sirens started their booming thunder of warning and the cry went up, 'Last call, ladies and gentlemen all ashore, those who are going ashore, and he knew he had run out of time.
She was probably a dog, a backside like heaven and a face like hell, and she almost certainly isn't sailing, anyway, he consoled himself. Then Dr Twenty-man-Jones was shaking his hand and wishing him luck for the Games, and he tried to forget that bunch of auburn curls and concentrate on his social duties, but it wasn't all that easy.
out on deck he looked for an auburn head going down the gangway, or in the crowd on the quayside, but Centaine was tugging at his arm as the gap between ship and land opened below them.
Come, cheri, let's go and check the dining-room seating. But you have been invited to the captain's table, Mater, he protested. 'here was an invitation in the, Yes, but you and David haven't, she pointed out. Come along, David, let's go and find where they have put the two of you, and have it changed if it's not suitable. She was up to something& Shasa realized. Normally she would take the seating for granted, secure in the knowledge that her name was all the guarantee of preference that was necessary, but now she was insistent, and she had that look in her eye which he knew so well, and which he called her 'Machiavellian sparkle.
Come along then, he agreed indulgently, and the three of them went down the walnut-panelled staircase to the first class dining-room on the deck below.
At the foot of the stairs a small group of seasoned travellers were being affable to the head waiter; five-pound notes were disappearing like magic into that urbane gentleman's pocket, leaving no bulge, and names were being rubbed out and re-pencilled on the seating plan.
Standing a little apart from the group was a tall familiar figure that Shasa recognized instantly. Something about him, the expectant turn of his head towards the staircase, told Shasa he was waiting for someone, and his dazzling smile as he saw Centaine made it clear who that someone was.
