A Time to Die - Smith Wilbur - Страница 129

"In fact, I have evicted one of my senior commanders and given you his dugout. I hope you will find it adequate for your needs."

"We aren't planning on a long stay, General," Sean told him. "I want to be on my way back to the border with Miss Monterro tomorrow morning at the very latest."

"Ah, Colonel, of course I want to accommodate you. From now on, you are an honored and privileged guest. You have certainly earned your release. However, for operational reasons that happy moment must be delayed for a few days. Frelimo are moving in large concentrations of troops."

Reluctantly Sean conceded. "Fair enough. But in the meantime we expect five-star treatment. Miss Monterro needs new clothes to replace these rags."

"I shall have a selection of the best we have sent to your dugout from our stores. However, I cannot promise either Calvin Klein or Gucci."

"While we are at it, we'll need a team of servants to do our laundry and cleaning and cooking."

"I haven't forgotten your colonial origins, Colonel," China answered slyly. "One of my men was an under chef at the President Hotel in Johannesburg. He understands European tastes."

Sean stood up. "We'll inspect our quarters now."

"One of my junior officers will escort you," General China suggested. "If there is anything further you need, please let him know. He has my personal orders to give you whatever he can to make you comfortable. As I have said before, you are honored guests." "He gives me the creeps," Claudia whispered as the subaltern ushered them out of the dugout. "I don't know when he frighten more, when he's being charming or menacing."

M!" It won't be for much longer." Sean put his arm around her shoulders and led her into the open air, but somehow the sunlight lacked warmth and despite his assurances to Claudia, the chill of General China's presence persisted.

The dugout to which the subaltern led them was in the bush above the riverbank, not more than three hundred yards from the general's HQ.

The entrance was screened with a piece of tattered camouflage net and the interior was freshly dug out of the hard red clay of the riverbank.

"It's so new that it probably hasn't yet acquired a permanent population of bedbugs and lice and other wild game," Sean remarked.

The clay walls were damp and cool, and there was ventilation through the spaces between the roof poles. The only furnishings were a table and two stools of mo pane poles against one wall, and opposite that a raised bedstead, also of mo pane poles, and a mattress of combed elephant grass covered with a sheet of faded canvas. There was, however, one extraordinary luxury, a mosquito net hung above the bed.

The subaltern who was escorting them summoned the domestic staff, and the three of them lined up in front of Sean and Claudia.

The two camp boys would take care of their laundry and cleaning under the supervision of the chef.

The chef was an elderly Shangane with a pleasant lined face and silver-frosted hair and beard. He reminded Claudia of a black Santa Claus. They both liked him immediately.

"My name is Joyful, sir."

"So you speak English, Joyful?"

"And Afrikaans and Portuguese and Shana and-"

"Enough already." Sean held up a hand to stop him. "Can you cook?"

"I'm the best damned cook in Mozambique."

"Joyful and modest." Claudia laughed.

Okay, Joyful, tonight we will have Chateaubriand," Sean tealsed him.

Joyful looked doleful "Sorry, sir, no filet steak."

"All right, Joyful@" Sean relented. "You just make us the best dinner you can.""

"I'll tell you when it's ready, sir and madam."

"Don't hurry," said Claudia. She lowered the netting across the doorway, summarily dismissing all of them.

They stood hand in hand and studied the bed thoughtfully.

Claudia broke the silence. "Are you thinking what I am thinking?"

"Before or after dinner?" Sean asked.

"Both," she replied, and led him by the hand.

They undressed each other with aching deliberation, drawing out the pleasure of truly discovering each other's bodies. Though they were already lovers he had only had one Rating glimpse of her, and she had never well ban naked. She studied him ynth big, solemn eyes, not smilin& taking her time until he was forced to ask, "Well, do I get the Monterro seal of approval.P"

"Oh, boy!" she breathed, still deadly sen ious and he lifted her onto the bed.

it was darkening outside the dugout when Joyful coughed politely beyond the screen doorway. "Dinner is ready, sir and madam."

They ate at the table of mo pane poles by the light of a paraffin lantern that Joyful had scavenged from somewhere.

"Oh, MY God!" Claudia cried when she saw what Joyful had provided for them. "I didn't realize how hungry I was."

It was a casserole of plump green pigeons and wild mushrooms, with side dishes of steamed yellow yams, cassava cakes, and banana fritters.