Story postcard – meeting the guests (3)

“Okay … Katania sounds interesting! I suppose I just thought she would be chilled, like the rest of them.”

Tim laughs.

“Well, chilled isn’t the word I’d use.”

“I thought our London visitor, would be the high maintenance one. Sounds like our lady from Paris might be worse. Anyway …” Rudd takes a deep breath, and rubs his hands together, “… just as long as they love it.”

“Can’t see why they wouldn’t. I mean look …” says Tim, sweeping an arm across the view.

Thanks. We’ve done a bit of tidying. What do you think of our new dance floor?”

Rudd leads Tim out of the bar area, on to the wide, freshly-sheltered section at the end of the verandah.

“Got the roof on yesterday.”

Tim whistles, his eyes on the corrugated green above him.

“Well done. Must have been hectic.”

“It was, but we’re pleased with it. “

“Congrats,” says Tim, turning back to Rudd. “Listen, you mentioned a medical room. Do you mind if I see it? Doctor’s curiosity I suppose.

“Sure.”

“I’m impressed you’ve got one.”

“Well, don’t expect anything too fancy,” says Rudd, heading back inside. “It’s got a bed, a big first aid kit, and there’s a defibrillator that a South African donated.”

A South African?”

“Ja. He collapsed here last year at a family party. Luckily a doctor, his nephew actually, saved him. They sent us one soon after they left.”

They cross through reception, to a door just off the main entrance. Rudd opens it, and lets Tim through ahead of him.

“Good light from that window. Fresh air if you need it. Mind if I have a look in the First Aid pack?”

“Go ahead.”

Rudd watches Tim. He notices his signet ring catch the light as he sorts through the scissors and bandages.

Tall, but Hansie’s chest still equals two of him. Wiry as a praying mantis, and those legs. So white pale. He better watch the sun, that’s for sure.

Tim looks up.

You happy sleeping here. Not the widest bed.” He pushes down on the plastic covered mattress. “It’s not that thick.”

“This is fine for me for a few days.”

Tim nods and returns the first aid kit to its shelf. He looks at his watch.

“I’d better go and find Hansie. The others will be here soon. Thanks Rudd. It’s good to have seen that.”

“And it’s good to know there’s a doctor here. This is one of the biggest groups we’ve had.”

“Can’t believe you’re going to get us all in.”

It’s a stretch. Only managed thanks to the campers.

“Okay. There’s a few of those. Good luck with it all,” Tim calls as he heads off towards the squash courts.

Rudd closes the door, and goes down the steps into the dining-room. Here the tables wait quietly for guests and, through the swing doors beyond, he can hear the chat and clatter of the kitchen. He loves the sound, and the way it energises his bones.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

Story Postcard – meeting the guests (2)

“Can I just ask how you two know each other?”

“Hansie and me? Sure. Our families used to be neighbours. We farmed out Raffingora way. Parents were good friends. About the time I turned nine we got kicked off our farm. They stayed on theirs. They haven’t got much land now, but they’re still hanging in there. They’re not British, which helps.”

“Too right,” says Rudd.

“Same story with you?” Tim asks.

“Sort of. I was born here, at this place. My folks helped to get it going, but it got too dangerous, and we moved to Harare. Did most of my schooling there. Don’t think my dad ever got over it really. Never wanted me to come back.”

There is a polite cough. Tonderai appears in the doorway behind them.

“Hi Tonderai – can I help?”

“The chef would like to see you.”

 “Right. Five minutes, and I’ll come through.”

Tim’s eyes follow Tonderai as he walks away.

“These guys are so thin.”

“I know, and they’re the lucky ones. It’s tough up here.”

“First time I’ve been. It’s beautiful. Remote though. No wonder we’ve had to bring up so much food. Lots of it by the way. Chef checked it through and it’s all been offloaded in the kitchen. Everything’s listed on here.”

Rudd scans the sheet of paper.

“Great. Thanks. Meat looks good, and glad to have that bread. Our veggie garden is brilliant, and we’re not short of beer, but it’s the other stuff that’s not so easy to get.”

“Where do you get your supplies?”

Rudd explains the endless Harare, and cross border trips, that either he or a runner does.

“Smuggling?”

“Not quite.”

“Import/export?”

“Not quite. More like survival. We all do it, and most times the police just let us get on with it, but we never know for sure.”

Tim raises the last of his beer in salute.

“Cheers to that. How are the rooms working out?”

“Fine. Just had to make one change.”

Rudd tells Tim about Simi’s visit.

“She was a last minute booking, and we need the forex. Don’t get many from UK. Most just skip us for Vic Falls. Not sure why she’s here even, but we’re not complaining. Travelling solo.”

“She should join in, if she wants. Hansie would never turn anyone away.”

“That’s what I reckoned, and when I told him about it he said it would be fine. Just didn’t want the rooms to be swopped, so I’ve put her in my place, down at the front. It’s been redecorated so she’s got a good deal. I’m in the medical room.”

“If you’re okay with that … great. The only diva on our side is Jen’s mother. So long as she’s got a good room. Have you met her?”

Rudd shakes his head.

“Well, she dumped Jen’s dad, Bruce, and is now married to some Frenchman with loads of money. Lives in Paris most of the time I think. Everyone’s pretty amazed she’s coming back for the wedding.”

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

Story postcard – meeting the guests (1)

Rudd heads for the reception area, then hesitates. To his right the sun lies warm and beckoning over the grass. Imagining its warmth after the cool of the office, he steps down off the verandah on to it, and raises his arms above his head. Fingers linked, elbows stretched tight, he tips his face up to the sky, willing the muscles in his neck to relax. As he does so, he imagines Tonderai, master of the meet and greet, welcoming the guests.

Perfect day, Rudd thinks, all cyclone worries evaporating in the sunshine.

“Hi Rudd.”

He drops his arms, and spins around to see the broad bridegroom, Hansie, looking down at him from the edge of the verandah.

“Hi.” Rudd strides back up the steps to shake the outstretched hand. “Welcome! Who’s with you?”

“Tim’s over there by the bar. Tonderai said he would get us drinks.”

“Tim?”

“Best man. He flew out from the UK a few days ago. He’s clever hey, not like me. He’s a doctor.”

“Whaaat? An Englishman.”

“I know, hey? One of your lot. We’re getting soft.”

Rudd, laughs as he lengthens his step to match Hansie’s. He is always happy to see Hansie, four years his senior, and one of the decent prefects at his last school.

Up ahead Rudd sees a tall man leaning on the bar. He is silhouetted against the sun. As they get closer he picks out the details, the curly ginger hair, the glasses, the smile. Rudd holds out his hand, and he shakes it warmly.

“I’m Tim,” he says. “Beautiful place.”

“Rudd. Thanks. We think so.”

The mobile lying on the counter, lights up.

“You’re lucky to get any reception,” Rudd says, watching the best man’s grin widen as he checks the message.

“Yesss! They’ve got fuel. They’ve found some. I thought they were never going to get here.” He looks up at Hansie eyes half relief, half accusation. “Why go miles away when there’s no fuel? You’re mad. You know that? You’re completely mad.”

“This is normal for us, hey,” said Hansie. “You’ve been away too long.”

“Well, the bride is on her way.” Tim, raises his beer. “Cheers.”

“Cheers!” Hansie drains his glass. “No need for stress. I’m going to check on the dormitory. Is it good to go Rudd?”

“The squash courts?” Rudd laughs. “First time they’ve been called a dormitory. All fine when I looked in. Tonderai and Innocence set out the mattresses this morning.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No. I’m fine thanks Tim. You just drink that beer of yours, and maybe you could talk Rudd through the stuff we’ve brought up with us.”

“Let me know if you need any changes over there,” Rudd calls after Hansie.

Hansie raises a hand in response but does not stop.

“Okay,” Tim says, pulling out a piece of paper from his back pocket. “Let’s start with this.”

He unfolds the paper carefully and lays it on the table.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023