When the Lion Feeds

  What? Please, Sean, the sooner we go the sooner we’ll be able to buy the farm Sean chuckled. A day or two more won’t make any difference.

  We’re starting to have fun. Tonight I’ll take you dancing, we were going to be sinful, remember? Who will look after Dirk? she asked weakly.

  Mbejane will! - Sean looked at her closely. You have a good sleep this afternoon and tonight we’ll go out and tie the dog loose. He grinned at the memories that expression invoked.

  When Katrina woke from her rest that evening she found the other part of the reason for her depression. For the first time since the baby, her periodic bleeding had started again, the tides of her body and mind were at their lowest ebb. She said nothing to Sean, but bathed and put on the yellow gown. She brushed her hair furiously, dragging the brush through it until her scalp tingled, but still it hung dull and lifeless, as dull as the eyes that looked back at her out of the yellow face in the mirror.

  Sean came up behind her and leaned over her to kiss her cheek. You look, said he, like a stack of gold bars five-and-a-half feet high. But he realized that the yellow gown had been a mistake: it matched too closely the fever colour of her skin. Mbejane was waiting in the sittingroom when they went through.

  We may be late before we return, Sean told him. That is of no account, Nkosi, Mbenjane’s face was as impassive as ever, but Sean caught a sparkle of anticipation in his eyes and realized that Mbejane could hardly wait to get Dirk to himself.

  You are not to go into his room, Sean warned. What if he cries, Nkosi? He won’t... but if he does? see what he wants, give it to him then leave him to sleep.

  Mbejane’s face registered his protest. I’m warning you, Mbejane, if I come home at midnight and find him riding you round the room I’ll have both your hides for a kaross.

  His sleep shall be unspoiled, Nkosi, lied Mbejane.

  In the hotel lobby Sean spoke to the receptionist.

  Where can we find the best food in this town? he asked. Two blocks down, sir, the Golden Guinea. You can’t miss it. It sounds like a gin palace, Sean was dubious. I assure you, sir, that you’ll have no complaint when you get there. Everyone goes there. Mr Rhodes dines there when he’s in town, Mr Barnato, Mr Hradsky --Dick Turpin, Cesare Borgla, Benedict Arnold, Sean continued for him. All right, you have convinced me. I’ll take a chance on having my throat cut. Sean went out through the front entrance with Katrina on his arm. The splendour of the Golden Guinea subdued even Sean a little. A waiter with a uniform like a majorgeneral’s led them down a marble staircase, across the wide meadow of carpet between the group of elegant men and women to a table that even in the soft light dazzled with its bright silver and snowy linen. Chandeliers of crystal hung from the vaulted ceiling, the band was good, and the air was rich with the fragrance of perfume and expensive cigars.

  Katrina stared helplessly at the menu until Sean came to her rescue and ordered the meat in a French accent that impressed her but not the waiter. The wine came and with it Sean’s high spirits returned. Katrina sat quietly opposite him and listened. She tried to think of something witty to answer him with; in their wagon or alone in the veld they could talk for hours at a time but here she was dumb. Shall we dance? Sean leaned across the table and squeezed her hand. She shook her head.

  Sean, I couldn’t. Not with all these people watching.

  I’d only make a fool of myself. Come on, I’ll show you how... it’s easy. No, I couldn’t, truly I couldn’t.

  And to himself Sean had to admit that the dance floor of the Golden Guinea on a Saturday night was not the best place for a waltz lesson.

  The waiter brought the food, great steaming dishes of it. Sean addressed himself to it and the one-sided conversation wilted. Katrina watched him, picking at the too rich food herself, acutely conscious of the laughter and voices around them, feeling out of place and desperately miserable. Come on, Katrina, Sean smiled at her. You’ve hardly touched your glass. Be a devil and get a little of that in you to warm you up. Obediently she sipped the champagne. She didn’t like the taste. Sean finished the last of his crayfish thermidor and leaning back in his chair glowing with wine and good food said, Man... I only pray the chef can keep the rest of the meal up to that standard. He belched softly behind his fingers and ran his eyes contentedly round the room. Duff used to say that a well-cooked crayfish was proof that, Sean stopped abruptly. He was staring at the head of the marble staircase, a party of three had appeared there.

  Two men in evening dress hovering attentively on each side of a woman.

  The woman was Candy Rautenbach.

  Candy with her blonde hair piled on top of her head.

  Candy with diamonds in her ears and at her throat, her bosom overflowing her gown as white as the frothy head on a beer tankard. Candy with bright blue eyes above a red mouth, Candy poised and lovely. Laughing, she glanced towards him and her eyes met his across the room. She stared in open disbelief, the laughter frozen on her lips, then suddenly her poise was gone and she was running down the stairs towards him, holding her skirts up to her knees, her escorts cantering after her in alarm, waiters scattering out of her path and every head in the room turning to watch her. Sean pushed back his chair, stood up to meet her and Candy reached him and jumped up to throw her arms around his neck.

  There was a long incoherent exchange of greetings and at last Sean prised her loose from his neck and turned her to face Katrina.

  Candy was flushed and panting with excitement; with every breath her bosom threatened to spring out of her bodice, and she was still holding on to Sean’s arm. Candy, I want you to meet my wife, Katrina. My dear, this is Candy Rautenbach. How do you do. Katrina smiled uncertainly and Candy said the wrong thing. Sean, you’re joking! You married? Katrina’s smile faded. Candy noticed the change and went on quickly, But I must applaud your choice. I am so pleased to meet you, Katrina.

  We must get together sometime and I’ll tell you all about Sean’s terrible past. Candy was still holding Sean’s arm and Katrina was watching her hand, the long tapered fingers against the dark cloth of Sean’s suit. Sean saw the direction of Katrina’s eyes and tried tactfully to disengage himself but Candy held on. Sean, these are my two current beaux. They were standing to heel behind her like welltrained gundogs. They are both so nice I can’t make up my mind about them. Harry Lategaan and Derek Goodman. Boys, this is Sean Courtney. You’ve heard lots about him They shook hands all round.

  Do you mind if we join you? asked Derek Goodman. I’d be upset if you didn’t! said Sean. The men spread out to find chairs while Candy and Katrina studied each other. Is this your first visit to Johannesburg Mrs Courtney? Candy smiled sweetly. I wonder where Sean found her, she’s thin as a stick and that complexion! that accent! he could have done better for himself, he could have had his pick.

  Yes, we won’t be here very long though. She’s a harlot.

  She must be, her breasts half-naked and the paint on her face and they way she touches Sean. She must have been his mistress. if she touches him again I’ll, I’ll kill her.

  Sean came back to the table carrying a chair and set it down for Candy.

  Candy’s one of my old friends, my dear, I’m sure you two will like each otherI’m sure we will, said Candy but Katrina didn’t answer and Candy turned back to him. Sean, how wonderful it is to see you again. You look so well... as sunburnt and handsome as the first time I met you. Do you remember that day you and Duff came to eat at the Hotel? A shadow fell across Sean’s face at the mention of Duff’s name. Yes, I remember. He looked round and snapped his fingers for the waiter. Let’s have some more champagne. I’ll get it, Candy’s escorts cut in simultaneously and then started wrangling good-naturedly as to whose turn it was.

  Is Duff with you tonight, Sean? Candy asked.

  candy, didn’t Derek get the drinks last time? It’s my turn now. Harry sought her support. Candy ignored them and looked at Sean for a reply but he turned and went round the table to the seat beside Katrina.

  I
say, old girl, can I have the first dance? asked Derek. I’ll spin you for it Derek, winner pays but getsfirst dance Harry suggested.

  You’re on. Sean, I said is Duff here tonight? I Candy looked at him across the table, No, he’s not. Listen, you two, how about letting me in on this. Sean avoided her eyes and joined in the haggle with Harry and Derek. Candy bit her lip, she wanted to press Sean further. She wanted to know about Duff, then suddenly she turned on her smile again.

  She wasn’t going to plead with him.

  What is this? She tapped Harry’s shoulder with her fan. Am I going to be the prize in a game of chance! Derek will pay for the wine and Sean gets first dance. I say old girl, that’s a bit rough, you know. But Candy was already standing up. Come on, Sean, let’s see if you can still tread a stately tneasure.

  Sean glanced at Katrina. You don’t mind, do you...

  just one dance! Katrina shook her head.

  I hate her. She’s a harlot. Katrina had never in her life spoken the word out loud, she had seen it only in her Bible, but now it gave her a fierce pleasure to think it.

  She watched Sean and Candy walk arm-in-arm to the dance floor.

  Would you care to dance, Mrs Courtney? said Derek.

  Katrina shook her head again without looking at him. She was staring at Sean and Candy. She saw Sean take her in his arms and a cold lump settled in her stomach. Candy was looking up into Sean’s face, laughing at him, her arm on his shoulder, her hand in his.

  She’s a harlot. Katrina felt her tears very near the surface and thinking that word held them back. Sean swirled Candy into a turn, Katrina stiffened in her chair, her hands clenching in her lap, their legs were touching, she saw Candy arch her back slightly and press her thighs against Sean. Katrina felt as though she were suffocating, jealousy had spread up cold and tight through her chest.

  I could go and pull him away, she thought. I could stop him doing that, He has no right. It’s as though the two of them are doing, doing it together. I know they have before, I know it now, Oh God, make them stop it.

  Please make them stop.

  At last Sean and Candy came back to the table. They were laughing together and when he reached her chair Sean dropped his hand on Katrina’s shoulder, She moved away from it but Sean seemed not to notice. Everybody was having a good time. Everybody except Katrina.

  Harry and Derek were jostling for position. Sean’s big laugh kept booming out and Candy was sparkling like the diamonds she wore. Every few minutes Sean turned to Katrina and tried to draw her into the conversation but Katrina stubbornly refused to be drawn. She sat there hating them and Hating even Sean an, for the first time she was unsure of him, jealous and frightened for him. She stared down at her hands on the tablecloth in front of her and saw how bony they were, chapped and reddened by the sun and wind, ugly compared to Candy’s. She pulled them quickly into her lap and leaned across towards Sean. Please, I want to go back to the hotel. I don’t feel well.

  Sean stopped in the middle of a story and looked at her with a mixture of concern and dismay. He didn’t want to leave and yet he knew she was still sick. He hesitated one second and then he said, Of course, my fancy, I’m sorry.

  I didn’t realize, He turned to the others. We’ll have to be going .... my wife’s not too strong... she’s just had one hell of a go of blackwater. Oh, Sean, must you? Candy couldn’t hide her disappointment. There’s still so much to talk about! I’m afraid so.

  We’ll get together another night. $Yes, agreed Katrina quickly, next time we come to Johannesburg we’ll see you. Oh, I don’t know. ., perhaps before we go, Sean demurred. “Some night next week. How about Monday? Before Candy could answer Katrina interrupted.

  Please, Sean, can we go now. I’m very tired. She started towards the stairs but looked back to see Candy jump up and take Sean’s arm, hold her lips close to his ear and whisper a question. Sean answered her tersely and Candy turned back to the table and sat down. When they were out on the street Katrina asked, What did she say to you? She just said goodbye, muttered Sean and Katrina knew he was lying. They didn’t talk again on the way back to the hotel. Katrina was preoccupied with her jealousy and Sean was thinking about what Candy had asked and what he had answered. Sean, where’s Duff? You must tell me. He’s dead, Candy.

  The second before she turned back to the table Sean had seen her eyes.

  Sean woke with a headache and Dirk’s jumping on his chest did not help to ease it at all. Sean had to bribe him off with the promise of sweets. Dirk, sensing his advantage, raised his price to a packet of bull’s eyes and two lollipops, the kind with red stripes, before he allowed Katrina to lead him away to the bathroom. Sean sighed and settled back under the blankets. The pain moved up and crouched just behind his eyes. He could taste stale champagne on his own breath and his skin smelt of cigar smoke. He drowsed back in half sleep and the ache faded a little. Sean, it’s Sunday you know. Are you coming to church with us? Katrina asked coldly from the bedroom door.

  Sean squeezed his eyelids closed.

  Sean! No answer.

  Sean! He opened one eye. Are you going to get up? I don’t feel very well, he croaked. I think I have a touch of malaria Are you coming? Katrina demanded remorselessly.

  Her feelings towards him had not softened during the night. I don’t feel up to it this morning, truly I don’t. I’m sure the Good Lord will understand., Thou shalt not take the Lord’s name in vain Katrina warned him with ice in her voice. I’m sorry. Sean pulled the blankets up to his chin defensively. But truly, fancy, I can’t get up for another couple of hours. My head would burst. Katrina turned back into the sitting-room and Sean heard her speak to Dirk in a voice purposely pitched to reach him. Your father’s not coming with us. We will have to go down to breakfast by ourselves. Then we will have to go to church on our own. But, Dirk pointed out, he’s going to buy me a packet of bull’s eyes and two lollipops with red stripes. In Dirk’s opinion that levelled the score. Sean heard the door of the suite close and Dirk’s voice receded down the passage.

  Sean relaxed slowly and waited for the ache behind his eyes to diminish.

  After a while he became aware of the coffee tray on the table beside the bed and he weighed the additional pain that the effort of sitting up would involve against the beneficial effect of a large cup of coffee. It was a difficult decision but in the end he carefully raised his body to a sitting position and poured a cupful. There was a small jug of fresh cream on the tray, he took it in his right hand and was just about to add a little to the cup when there was a knock on the sitting-room door.

  Come in! called Sean. He supposed it was the waiter coming to collect the tray. Sean searched his mind for a really scathing remark to send him on his way. He heard the sitting-room door open. Who is it! he asked. There were quick footsteps and then Sean started so violently that the cream slopped out of the jug onto his sheets and his new nightshirt. Good God, Candy, you shouldn’t have come here. Sean was in a frenzy of agitation. He put the jug back on the tray with nervous haste and wiped ineffectually at the mess on his nightshirt with his hands. If my wife...

  Did anyone see you? You mustn’t stay. If Katrina knows you’ve been here she’ll... well I mean, she won’t understand. Candy’s eyes were puffy and Trimmed with red. She looked as though she hadn’t slept.

  It’s all right, Sean, I waited across the street until I saw your wife leave. One of my servants followed her, she went to the Dutch church on Commissioner Street and there the service lasts about fifty years She came into the room and sat down on the edge of his bed. I had to talk to you alone. I couldn’t let you go without knowing about Duff. I want you to tell me about it... everything about it. I promise not to cry, I know how you hate it Candy, let’s not torture ourselves with it. He’s dead.

  Let’s remember him alive. Sean had forgotten his headache for its place had been taken by pity for her and worry at the position in which she had placed him. Tell me, please. Now. I’d never rest again if I didn’t, she sa
id quietly. Candy, don’t you see that it doesn’t matter? The way in which he went is not important. All that you need to know is he’s gone. Sean’s voice faded but went on softly, almost to himself, He’s gone, that is the only thing that matters, he’s gone and left us richer for knowing him and a little poorer for having lost him. Tell me, she said again and they looked at each other, their emotions locked behind expressionless faces. Then Sean told her, his words limping at first, then faster and stronger as the horror of it came back to him.

  When he had finished she said nothing. She sat on the edge of the bed staring down at the patterned carpet. Sean moved closer to her and put his arm around her. There is nothing we can do. That’s the thing about death, there is nothing you can do to make it change its mind. She leaned against him, against the comfort of his big body and they sat silently until suddenly Candy pulled away from him and smiled her gay brittle smile. And now tell me about you. Are you happy? Was that your son with Katrina? He’s a lovely child With relief Sean followed her away from the memory Of Duff. They talked about each other, filling in the blanks from the time they had last met until suddenly Sean returned to reality. Good God, Candy, we’ve been talking for ages.

  Katrina will be back at any moment. You had better run. At the door she turned, buried her fingers in his beard and tugged his head from side to side. If she ever throws you out, you magnificent brute, here’s somebody who’ll have a place for you. She stood up on her toes and kissed him. Be happy, she commanded and the door closed softly behind her.

  Sean rubbed his chin, then he pulled off his nightshirt, screwed it into a ball, tossed it through the open door of the bedroom and went to the bathroom. He was towelling himself and whistling the waltz that the band had played the night before, sweating a little in the steamy warmth of the bathroom when he heard the front door open. Is that you, Fancy? Daddy! Daddy! Mummy got sweets for me. Dirk hammered on the bathroom door, and Sean wrapped the towel round his waist before opening it.