Читать книгу The Song of Mawu - Jeff Edwards - Страница 23

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17

Justine Small leaned back in her chair and slowly considered the contents of the file that she had been reading. A plan was crystallizing in her fertile imagination. A plan that involved a giant leap of faith on her own part, and held the very handsome Daniel Zibu at its core.

She wondered with a smile, if the plan was inspired by Daniel Zibu or simply the excuse for it. Justine came to the conclusion that she didn’t really care either way. As long as Daniel agreed to play his role which was in itself the sticking point in the whole matter.

How would he react? Was he brave enough to carry it out?

She still didn’t know him well enough to make that decision, and her imagination played out a variety of scenarios. Justine busily made plans to turn whatever happened to her advantage.

Picking up the file, Justine made her way to the board-room where a meeting had been called to assess the latest developments.

She took her usual seat at the head of the table and remained silent for the next hour without paying much attention to what was being said as she made up her mind whether to reveal her plan at this early stage.

Rod Taylor was in the midst of his report when she finally reached her decision to maintain her silence for the time being and switched her attention to what was being said by those present.

‘Eliza is back with the refugees and throwing her efforts into helping the World Vision personnel. They’ve agreed to take her under their wing for the present. She’s reporting on what areas of assistance need more money and we’ve been funnelling it to her through World Vision’s office. Eliza has also set up a small school to teach the children up to primary school level. She’s hired the staff from among the refugees themselves. While she’s been busy doing that, Mick Sloane is travelling through the provinces and has been sending back reports on the current situation amongst the ordinary citizens in Namola. The outlook appears to be very gloomy and the term ‘basket case’ is appropriate. With no one to overthrow Lattua or legitimately replace him, it seems inevitable that he will drive the country into the ground. Predictions are that in five years or less there will be nothing of value left, and most people will be reduced to subsistence farming in order to merely survive.’

‘What about their exports?’ asked Nori Akuba, ‘Surely the mining and oil reserves will keep them afloat?’

‘Predictions are that with the infrastructure falling apart, the cost of extracting the raw material will steadily rise. If it goes up by too much more the market will decide that it’s become uneconomical. When that happens the overseas companies will walk away until such times as the situation improves or the world prices rise enough to make extraction economical again.’

‘But surely that’s a local problem for Namola. What has it got to do with the refugees?’ asked Nori.

Justine decided to intervene at this time, ‘Since I haven’t had any specific task in this matter I’ve been going over what you’ve all been able to find out so far, and it seems clear that no long term help can be afforded the refugees without solving the Namolan situation at the same time. If we do nothing, then the refugees will suffer the same fate as the rest of Namola. As soon as President Lattua sniffs the presence of money he’ll invent a way of stealing it and he’s not afraid of using the military to force the issue.’

‘We can set up as many works programmes as there are refugees, but he’ll simply come along and tax the recipients of the wages as well as the programme instigators until there’s nothing left.’

‘I say again, there will be no solution to the refugee problem without a solution to the Namolan problem.’

‘Unfortunately I must agree wholeheartedly with Justine,’ said Rod Taylor. ‘The two problems are one and that’s the basis on which we’re going to have to formulate a solution. We’re going to need even more background information on Namola and its people. I suggest we get Daniel Zibu back in here for further talks.’

Lana quickly interjected, ‘I don’t think he was entirely comfortable facing our massed ranks the last time he was here. Perhaps a much more intimate meeting might be arranged. As Justine has no particular role at present, I think she should be the one to take Dr Zibu on as her personal project.’

Beside her, Suzie whispered under her breath like a mischevious schoolgirl,

‘Justine and Daniel,

Sitting in a tree,

K…I…S…S…I…N…G!’

Both women began to giggle and their husbands looked around at them in surprise.

Suzie and Lana managed to regain their composure but had failed to notice that the suggestion had an unusual effect upon the usually stoic Justine.

It was Nori, the only other woman present, who had seen the colour rise in Justine’s cheeks. ‘My goodness! Is that an actual display of emotion from our Justine?’ she thought, ‘I must ask the other women about this.’

Justine sought to regain her composure, ‘I ah…well….um…yes…I suppose I could do that. But only because I’ve nothing else to do.’

‘That’s settled then,’ pronounced Suzie, before anyone could offer an alternative, ‘Justine is going to look after Dr Zibu for us.’

‘I’ll prepare a list of questions for you to put to him,’ said Rod Taylor.

Justine nodded, unable to quite come to grips with the sudden surge of excitement that gripped her, and the butterflies that were taking flight within her stomach.

***

Nori caught up with Suzie and Lana as they were leaving the meeting.

‘I do believe our little Justine is besotted with Dr Zibu.’

Suzie laughed, ‘She certainly is!’

‘Our little Justine is growing up!’ smiled Lana.

‘Oh dear! What will become of her?’ asked Nori.

‘Besides losing her cement skin and finally becoming a human being? Heaven knows,’ said Lana. ‘but it should be interesting.’

‘We’ll be here for her in case it all falls apart,’ ended Suzie.

‘Do the men know?’ asked Nori.

Suzie patted her on the shoulder and smiled, ‘we shouldn’t worry their tiny little minds with such trivialities. They have so much more important things to consider.’

The three laughed, knowing that in the scheme of things, this was the most important thing.

The Song of Mawu

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