Digging Deeper: An Adventure Novel (Sam Harris Series Book 1) (8 page)

Pedro had the Latin man’s belief that no woman could resist him.  He did not seem to realise that just because he fancied a woman, it did not mean that it was reciprocal.  Sam was not immune to Pedro’s charms but she was not keen on the assumptions he was making about the ease of the conquest in her case. She had no doubt that she could outlast his enthusiasm but it might be fun to play along until he got bored.

Later that afternoon, she did a round of polite handshakes in the office. Then she went to the trailers to get her boxes of goodies.  Pedro dropped her at Villa Alice to sort through her things and select the stuff she needed for Kardo.   Before he left for the office, he gave her a tour of the building site behind the house that would be her bedroom when it was finished.  She was getting an ensuite bathroom, so at least she did not have to wait for all of them to shower in the morning before she got a look in. Sam was dismayed that the annex had no windows except for a tiny one about three metres up.  It looked like a prison cell.  In its favour, it gave her some privacy.

The bathroom in the main house at Villa Alice had a plain glass window without curtains which looked out over the sitting room.  This meant that for now, she had to sit down in the shower to wash herself or else provide more interesting entertainment than the morning news. It looked as if they had simply tacked the sitting room onto the back of the original house when they needed to expand it and had not bothered to brick up the outside window of the bathroom. 

The lack of privacy was embarrassing but Sam had been refused many jobs over her career due to ‘the lack of women’s facilities,’ so she was not about to start fussing now.  She stuck a black plastic bag across the glass and solved the issue like a Tamazian. 

Sam watched the news and sorted through her belongings.  Most of them would stay in Mondongo.  Her music CDs were the items she really wanted to take to Kardo this time, along with her books and supplies of tea and chocolate.  She resealed the boxes and put them in the pantry that she found at the back of the kitchen.   Then she radioed Pedro as arranged and asked him to get someone to pick her up and take her back to the transit trailers for her flight to Kardo.

Pedro came personally, which surprised her, and drove her to the airport. Sam was sure he had better things to do.  On the way, he said he would miss her on his leave.  So smooth she almost believed it.  How could he miss her after one lunch and a cup of coffee?

‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll get over it,’ she said.

Pedro was not put out.

‘Did you know that all the gossip about you is heating up the airwaves?’ he asked.

‘It can’t possibly compete with the stuff I’ve heard about you and your reputation,’ she replied.  ‘Perhaps you should stay away from me if you don’t want to make it worse.’

Sam left a note in Pedro’s bedroom at the Villa Alice thanking him for lunch and the tapes, and wishing him a pleasant time on his leave.  Bill Collier had told her to watch out for Pedro.  She had considered the advice carefully.  She would make her own mind up about him.  And then there was the General.  He was a complete surprise.  Sam thought that she might have made a conquest.  She decided not to tell Jim or the paranoid Black about her lunch.  It was probably a one-off, after all.

The flight was uneventful.  The hair-raising routine for landing the plane failed to arouse many emotions this time. 

Sam found Jim at the airport waiting to drive her to the compound.

‘So, how’d the trip go then?’ he asked, ‘Any garimpeiro trouble?’

Sam mumbled something but he was not listening to her answer.  He drove her back to her house and it was obvious that he had had a really bad day.  She invited him in for a beer.

‘Jesus Sam, you have no idea how hard it is to work for Black.  He is such a bastard.  I don’t know how I put up with it.  I work my hands to the bone here but all I get is grief.  What does the man want?’

‘I can’t answer that question.  I haven’t worked with him yet.’

‘With him.  Ha!  For him, you mean.  He wouldn’t know how to work with someone.  He's a tyrant.  Fuck him.’

‘Well, he does seem to appreciate you.  He has promoted you, after all.’

‘Only to annoy Pat Murphy.  He never does anything for the right reasons.’

  He ranted on for an hour or so in an unfocused sort of way.  Sam was not sure what was expected of her, so she just listened and nodded.

‘Is something the matter, Jim?  Can I help?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, woman.  No one can play Black at his own game.’

‘Actually, I meant that you have been very pre-occupied lately, rude even.  I hope it wasn’t something that I said.’

Jim looked embarrassed.  ‘No, no please forget it.  I was drunk.  I don’t know what I was thinking.  I felt rejected.’

‘Rejected?  Oh, I had no idea you felt that way.’

‘I don’t.   I mean I was drunk and afterwards I was embarrassed.  You know how it is.’

Sam, who had never used alcohol as an excuse for anything, did not know, but she agreed anyway.  There was a long silence broken by Jim who suddenly looked very sober.

‘Why did you take this job?’ he asked.

Sam was loath to tell Jim about her humiliating circumstances. Taking the job in Tamazia had been an act of desperation on her part.  Despite being nearly forty, unemployment had forced her to move back in with her parents to protect her meagre savings.

‘I was swayed by the availability of cheap mangoes.’

‘You don’t get away that easily.  Why Sam?’

‘I work for money Jim.  The salary outweighed the danger.  I’d rather die than sit at home on the dole.’

‘I can understand that.’

He left shortly afterwards, heading for the bar.

***

There was no water in her house the next day and the water pipe in the utility room was leaking again.  The plumber arrived, this time with Bob, who ordered the pipe changed and a plate made for the pump.  Bob could hardly look Sam in the eye.  He was trying hard to find something to chat about.  He appeared determined to bridge the gap that loomed between them since the incident in the bar but Sam was not in the mood.

Bob commented that the plumbing arrangements had been a bit Heath Robinson.  He wasn’t kidding. One of the water tanks was stagnant and acted as a breeding ground for mosquitoes, so they let the water out to kill the larvae.  No wonder the mosquitos came in squadrons every night; they had their own hatchery in the backyard to replace casualties.  It was like the battle of Britain but with the Luftwaffe carrying a deadly cargo of malaria.

Dirk dropped by later for a drink and to collect some cigarettes that she had brought him from Mondongo.  He had been hovering around her before she went to Mondongo, without being pushy like Pedro.  They had established a great rapport and she felt very comfortable around him.

Sam suffered a lot due to her perceived position as Black’s spy.  As predicted by the bar crowd, she needed someone to confide in.  She would have liked to be physically close to someone to distract her from the fear she felt at night.  She got the impression that Dirk might jump at the chance.  After all, they were both single, as far as she knew, and they would not be hurting anyone.  No one would be able to invent stories about her and Jim, or anyone else, if she was with Dirk, who made it obvious that he wanted to stay that night.

‘Come on, Sam,’ he pleaded. ‘What’s wrong with sex between two consenting adults?’

But Sam was not sure and for once she was glad that she had an excuse.  For some strange reason she felt like she was being watched.  She did not want the whole camp knowing about her business.

‘Not tonight, Dirk.  I have my period.  I need you to go home now,’ she said.

‘But we could just share your bed and hang out together.  We don’t need to have sex, you know.’

‘I know but I'm several degrees hotter than usual due to my period and we'll be uncomfortable.  I promise to let you know when I’m ready.’

‘You’re just mean.  You know how much I want you.’

She turned him out into the dark. He protested bitterly.

The rainy season had set in with a vengeance and the countryside was coated in thick red mud.  The river banks were turning green where they were not churned up into an impassable mud bath.  Even the stunted bushes had new leaves and shoots.  At night, frogs croaked from every puddle and when combined with the chorus of crickets, rendered sleep almost impossible.  The villagers gathered new palm leaves to roof their huts.  Everywhere, the operators had stopped work because of the rain.

‘It’s fucking infuriating,’ said Jim. ‘Every man jack of them has been given a set of waterproofs for the rainy season and they have all sold them in town or swapped them for beer.  And then they have the cheek to moan about getting wet and they stop work if not supervised.’

Sam had no rain gear, as she had been told by Mr Shah in London that she would not need any because it never really rained in Tamazia.  The rainy season in Tamazia lasted for seven months.  She found it hard to believe he did not know that.  Perhaps he was too frazzled to remember anything.

The next morning, Jim appeared at the office looking sheepish.  He came over to her for a chat.

‘Hi, what’s up?’ asked Sam

‘I’ve got some good news and some bad news.  Which do you want to hear first?’

‘The bad news I guess.’

‘I wanted to tell you when you got back from Mondongo but I was too drunk and I thought I might change his mind.  Black called me while you were away. He's changed his mind about you running the place while I'm away on leave.  I’m sorry.  I know it was important to you.’

‘Why, for fuck’s sake?’  She could not believe it.  She had so been looking forward to taking on the production duties.

‘Don’t be too pissed off.  He's famous for changing his mind.  When he comes on a visit you can use your famous charm to change his mind back.’  Jim looked at her mischievously. 

‘So who will run the operation, then?'

‘Ewen Mackenzie will take over as he usually does when I am away.  He’s a man who hoards toilet rolls and who manages the Gali mine next door.   You'll work with him.’

‘A man who what?’

‘He hoards toilet rolls.  He has dozens of them.’

‘To be honest, I don’t think that’s at all odd considering the erratic supply.  All the toilet roll, soap, toothpaste, coffee and tea are running out.’

‘Yes, that’s true.  Well the latest container of supplies is being held for ransom by the customs agents in Mondongo and Black hates to pay a bribe.  Anyway, Ewen’s okay really. He doesn’t say much unless he's drunk and then he mumbles and his Scots accent gets worse. He’s a big hit with the ladies.’

‘Just my luck,'

‘Also you'll have to move into a room in my house because Jorge’s wife is arriving in Kardo to stay. They’re going to move her into your house.’

‘What?’

‘Again, I’m sorry.  The truth is that Jorge isn't entitled to his own house as a mining foreman, but his long service to the company and his indispensable talents have earned him favours with Black that annoy many of the other senior staff, not just you.  Jorge’s wife has decided that since Jorge is retiring soon, she wants to make sure that none of the girls get their claws into him at the last minute, robbing her of her pension.  I don’t blame her but it means that you'll have to live with Ewen.  To make matters worse for you, Black is due to arrive in Kardo shortly after I leave, so you’ll be living with him as well, as his room is always kept ready in my house.’

Sam covered her horror at the change in her living arrangements with the best grace she could muster.  She realised that it would only be until Jim came back and it was not his fault.

‘So what’s the good news?  It needs to be pretty good after that I can tell you.’

‘I think you’ll approve.  There were five thousand carats in the picking cabinet yesterday.  It is a new record production for one day’s picking and they haven’t even finished all the concentrate yet.’

‘Wow, so that means one hundred percent bonuses for the Kardo staff.  That’s great news.’

‘Not just for them.  The accounts department in Mondongo have decided that since you're at Kardo you’ll also receive a pro-rata bonus for the days that you’ve been here this month.’

Sam felt something approaching ecstasy.  She could imagine the money stacking up in her bank account in London with great clarity.  That was motivation enough for her to stick it out for six months.

‘Thank you, Jim.  I’m so happy.’

‘You are welcome.  Oh, by the way, that means another diamond export for you on next Saturday.’

‘Okay.’

Sam had no complaints.  She was visualizing her money.  Lying on the sofa listening to music that evening, she got her first mosquito bite.  She usually sprayed herself with repellent from head to foot in the evening because half of the mosquitoes in Kardo carried malaria.  She was annoyed at herself for being careless.  The prevalence of malaria in the town was evidenced by the number of working days lost to it.  No one else at Gemsite took any precautions against malaria at all.  They all wore shorts, didn’t take any medicine and slept without mosquito nets. 

Sam suspected that having malaria was the only way they could get any time off work, so they did not mind getting it. Almost the first thing that she was told when she got to Mondongo was ‘You will get malaria. Everybody gets malaria.’  The only protection offered by the company was some low grade, useless repellent, issued to them when it was available, and that was all.  It was worse than useless against cerebral malaria.  Sam had brought some jungle grade repellent containing fifty percent DEET from the UK, and she could almost hear the mosquitos veering away when they smelt it on her.  She went to shower and watched the red dust run off her body like blood down the plughole. 

On Sunday, Dirk and Sam borrowed a truck and went fishing at Gali.  Jim was the most relaxed general manager of the Gemsite mines when it came to free time.  On Sundays when a lot of maintenance was going on and the machinery had to be shut down, he often let the staff have a day off.  The only choices for entertainment during their free time were drinking, watching the single television, or fishing.

The television was used almost exclusively for watching sports.  The most senior person present would choose the football match.  This was often Jim, who supported Liverpool.  This caused conflict with the South African crew who preferred rugby.

Under Black’s rule, no one was allowed to go fishing because he thought everyone was trying to steal his diamonds from the rivers.   But Jim turned a blind eye.  Fishing parties always contained members of the internal security personnel, so it was unlikely anyone would try to look for a diamond with that sort of supervision.  Also, the chances of finding one were miniscule. 

They stopped at one of the river terraces where hippopotamus tracks crossed the dykes.  It was a sunny afternoon.  The still lagoons at Gali glistened gold and green.  Long reeds stood stiff in the damp banks.  Massive dragonflies flew through the air and settled on the banks, the reeds and each other, stacking up like aircraft outside Heathrow.

Sam sat on a stone and did some painting. Dirk thrashed around in the undergrowth along the riverbank, casting with vigour and resembling the tiger fish he was trying to catch.  After missing two or three bites, he caught a small tiger fish that Sam used as a model for a painting.

‘Wow, that's very beautiful,’ said Sam.  ‘It has a mouth like a piranha.  They could bite through fishing line.’

‘You don’t know the half of it,’ said Dirk. ‘They can grow up to two metres long.’ 

She placed the fish on a cooler and copied it on a piece of paper.  She painted the sea-green/bluish sheen of its scales and its pearl white belly.  She concentrated on getting the brown fins shading to strong yellow and then bright scarlet at the tips.  She made the ragged ends of the fins look like those on Siamese fighting fish. 

Dirk went further along the bank, and Sam did more painting.  When she put down her brush, she focused on her surroundings.  She was sitting on a mud beach at the river’s edge.  There were crocodile prints in the mud underneath her seat, ranging from tiny cute ones to very big not-at-all-cute ones.  What if a big crocodile had crept up on her as she sat absorbed in her paintings and taken her into the water?  Shit.  She walked over to the pickup truck. 

When Dirk came back carrying a small catfish, which hissed and spluttered in fury, she was leaning on the bonnet smoking one of his cigarettes, ready to leap into the pickup at the slightest noise.

‘You okay?’ he asked.

‘Yes, I just noticed that I was sitting on a bank with some massive crocodile prints on it.  Gave me a hell of a fright.’

‘They do say that no one sees the crocodile that gets them.’

‘That’s not really very reassuring.’

‘Ha!  I know, I was just kidding.’

‘Not funny.’

He grabbed her and gave her a squeeze.  Sam planned to consummate her platonic relationship with Dirk.  It would be less difficult to sleep if she had a man in her bed.  It would be nice to have regular sex, even with someone she suspected would make love like a jack rabbit.  She stifled a giggle as she thought about it.  At least someone liked her; no need to put him off, too. 

Being with Dirk would also chase away the isolation she felt in the office, where she had almost nothing to do.  Black had dropped her right in it by not giving her an official role at Kardo.  She had no set duties and no status in the group, giving her colleagues ample opportunity to snub her attempts to get involved in production work.

As they got back into the pickup, two little boys appeared out of the reeds at the side of the road.  They were thin and dirty with dusty hair.  She called out to the boys, who stood frozen in panic on the red dirt track.  ‘Bom dia.’

They both chorused it back, flashing big, scared smiles.  But they looked like they were ready to run away at any moment. The smaller boy tugged at the larger boy’s arm in agitation.  Sam now recognised them as the boys who often stood outside the canteen and begged for food.  She had developed a habit of dropping food ‘by mistake’ as she left after lunch.  She knew they recognised her, too, but they showed no inclination to approach.

‘What’s wrong with them?' she asked Dirk. 

‘Nothing. Just scared.'

‘Why?' 

‘They can get beaten for being on the concession area.' 

‘So what are they doing here?'

‘Adults use them for mining the vertical tunnels or shafts into the bottom gravel where the diamonds are.  The shafts bell out at the bottom to take the maximum gravel possible out of the same shaft.  Being small makes it easier to excavate the gravel out to the sides of the vertical shaft and under the barren gravels.'

‘Jesus. Isn’t that incredibly dangerous?’

‘The tunnels collapse all the time. Sometimes the kids manage to scramble out and sometimes they're buried alive.’

‘Poor little buggers.  That’s dreadful.  They look so thin.  Give me the fish.’

‘Black doesn’t like us to feed them.  We could get in trouble.’

‘I’ll take the blame.  Remember, I'm an ignorant newcomer and have no idea we can’t give food to the locals.’

Dirk took the fish out of his bag and handed them to Sam.  They had lost their colour and did not look very appetising.  The small catfish was still alive.  It squirmed and hissed and almost wriggled out of her grasp.  She proffered the fish to the boys.  They looked suspiciously at them and took a couple of steps forward.

‘For you,’ said Sam in Portuguese.

The larger of the boys darted forward and grabbed the fish.  They ran off a short distance and then stopped and looked backwards.  She beamed at them and waved.  

‘Obrigado,’ yelled the older boy, and they scampered off, their bare feet splashing in the wet road, sending streams of red mud up their skinny legs.

***

In Mondongo, General Fuego had been summoned for a drink at the President’s house.  They sat in the President’s study, which overlooked the city. The two men were in leather armchairs, which had been designed for bigger bodies.  It was very relaxing, and they sighed in appreciation, even as they both struggled to reach their glasses of whisky, perched on the glass coffee table between the chairs.

General Fuego was the first to break the convivial silence. ‘How can I help you, Mr President?’

‘I still need those diamond production numbers.  I want you to get me information about Gemsite from that woman. I’m sure she knows what the numbers are by now.  She’s a geologist, isn’t she?’

‘Yes, I believe so.  I'm having a lunch party next weekend at my beach house.  I believe that production is very good and that there is another export on Friday.  Perhaps I can invite Sam to stay at the beach?’

‘That’s more like it.    How could she possibly object to staying at a nice house with charming people and eating delicious food?’

‘It will be a lot better than the muck they eat at Kardo, that’s for sure.  I know she likes lobster.  I will make sure to buy some.’

‘And pour drink down her throat, Fuego.  Flatter her, seduce her; I don’t care how you do it.  I want to know what those bastards are hiding.  There is nothing honest about our Mr Black, and I want to know what’s going on.’