Felicity gripped Bond’s hand. He asked obvious questions about her organisation and the shipments of food arriving soon, hoping Hydt would change his mind about dinner.
But the man looked once more at his iPhone and said, ‘I’m afraid we have to be going.’
‘Severan,’ Felicity said, ‘I don’t think my remarks really conveyed our gratitude. You’ve introduced some important donors to us. I really can’t thank you enough.’
Bond took note of this. So she knew the names of some of Hydt’sassociates. He wondered how best to exploit this connection.
Hydt said, ‘I’m delighted to help. I’ve been lucky in life. I want to share that good fortune.’ He turned to Bond. ‘See you tomorrow, Theron. Around noon, if that’s convenient. Wear old clothes and shoes.’ He brushed his curly beard with an index finger whose nail reflected a streak of jaundiced light. ‘You’ll be taking a tour of hell.’
After Hydt and Jessica had left, Bond turned to Felicity Willing. ‘Those statistics were disturbing. I might be interested in helping.’ Standing close, he was aware of her perfume, a musky scent.
‘Might be interested?’ she asked.
He nodded.
Felicity kept a smile on her face but it didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Well, Mr Theron, for every donor who actually writes a cheque, two others say they’re “interested” but I never see a rand. I’d rather somebody told me up front they don’t want to give anything. Then I can get on with my business. Forgive me if I’m blunt, but I’m fighting a war here.’
‘And you don’t take prisoners.’
‘No,’ she said, smiling sincerely now. ‘I don’t.’
‘Then I’ll most certainly help,’ Bond said, wondering what A Branch would say when they encountered a donation on his expense account back in London. ‘I’m not sure I’m able to rise to Severan’s level of generosity.’
‘One rand donated is one rand closer to solving the problem,’ she said.
He paused a judicious moment, then said, ‘Just had a thought: Severan and Jessica couldn’t make it for dinner and I’m alone in town. Would you care to join me after the auction?’
Felicity considered this. ‘I don’t see why not. You look reasonably fit.’ And turned away, a lioness preparing to descend on a herd of gazelles.
43
At the conclusion of the event, which raised the equivalent of ?30,000 – including a modest donation on the credit card of Gene Theron – Bond and Felicity Willing walked to the car park behind the Lodge Club.
They approached a large van, beside which were dozens of large cardboard cartons. She tugged up her hem, bent down, like a stevedore on a dock, and muscled a heavy box through the open side door of the vehicle.
The reference to his physical well-being was suddenly clear. ‘Let me,’ he said.
‘We’ll both do it.’
Together they began to transfer the cartons, which smelt of food. ‘Left-overs,’ he said.
‘Didn’t you think it was rather ironic that we were serving gourmet finger food at a campaign to raise money for the hungry?’ Felicity asked.
‘I did, yes.’
‘If I’d offered tinned biscuits and processed cheese, they’d have devoured the lot. But with fancier stuff – I extorted some three-star restaurants to donate it – they didn’t dare take more than a bite or two. I wanted to make sure there was plenty left over.’
‘Where are we delivering the excess?’
‘A food bank not far away. It’s one of the outlets my organisation works with.’
When they had finished loading, they got into the van. Felicity climbed into the driver’s seat and slipped off her shoes to drive barefoot. Then they sped into the night, bounding assertively over the uneven tarmac as she tormented the clutch and gearbox.
In fifteen minutes they were at the Cape Town Interdenominational Food Bank Centre. Her shoes back on, Felicity opened the side door and together they offloaded the scampi, crab cakes and Jamaican chicken, which the staff carried inside the shelter.
When the van was empty, Felicity gestured to a large man in khaki slacks and T-shirt. He seemed impervious to the May chill. He hesitated, then joined them, eyeing Bond curiously. Then he said, ‘Yes, Miss Willing? Thank you, Miss Willing. Lot of good food for everyone tonight. Did you see inside the shelter? It’s crowded.’
She ignored his questions, which to Bond had sounded like diversionary chatter. ‘Joso, last week a shipment disappeared. Fifty kilos. Who took it?’
‘I didn’t hear anything-’
‘I didn’t ask whether you heard anything. I asked who took it.’
His face was a mask, but then it sagged. ‘Why you asking me, Miss Willing? I didn’t do nothing.’
‘Joso, do you know how many people fifty kilos of rice will feed?’
‘I-’
‘Tell me. How many people.’ He towered over her but Felicity held her ground. Bond wondered if
Miserably, he lapsed into Zulu or Xhosa.
‘No,’ she corrected. ‘It will feed more than that, many more.’
‘It was an accident,’ he protested. ‘I forgot to close the door. It was late. I was working-’
‘It was no accident. Someone saw you unlock the door before you left. Who has the rice?’
‘No, no you must believe me.’
‘Who?’ she persisted coolly.
He was defeated. ‘A man from the Flats. In a gang. Oh, please, Miss Willing, if you tell the SAPS, he’ll find out it was me. He’ll know I told you. He will come for me and he will come for my family.’
Her jaw tightened and Bond couldn’t dislodge the impression he’d had earlier, of a feline – now about to strike. There was no sympathy in her voice as she said, ‘I won’t go to the police. Not this time. But you’ll tell the director what you did. And he’ll decide whether to keep you on or not.’
‘This is my only job,’ he protested. ‘I have a family. My only job.’
‘Which you were happy to endanger,’ she responded. ‘Now, go and tell Reverend van Groot. And if he keeps you on and another theft occurs, I
‘It will not happen again, Miss Willing.’ He turned and vanished inside.
Bond couldn’t help but be impressed with her cool, efficient handling of the incident. He noted too it made her all the more attractive.
She caught Bond’s eye and her face softened. ‘The war I’m fighting? Sometimes you’re
