Tell Me, Darling Read online

  “I know, Mom!” she called back, wiping her hands and going out of the kitchen to the hall. She pressed the button next to the front door and the gate clicked open. She took a deep breath and walked outside to meet him.

  “Hi,” she said, as he walked up the path towards her. He looked so good, as he always did to her, in a shirt with a collar, and dark pants and shoes despite the heat.

  “Hi,” he said, smiling at her and leaning forward to give her a quick hug. “You look very nice. Really … very nice.” He stumbled a little over the compliment, fumbling with the bottle in his hand.

  “Thanks,” she said, taking the bottle and hoping as usual that she wasn’t blushing. She had left her hair down again, and had put on a summery sleeveless dress and proper sandals rather than her usual slip slops. She had sat in front of her mirror for a disproportionate amount of time, wondering if she should put on make-up and earrings and perfume. She didn’t think he really noticed or cared much about those kinds of things, but still, she wanted to look nice. In the end she had kept it subtle, just a little enhancement, as she liked to think of it, but it was enough to have made her dad look up from his newspaper and give her a suspicious look as she had walked past him earlier. And Joe had noticed something, at least. A compliment was a compliment, and she would take it.

  It didn’t take long for her mom and dad to relax and warm to him. He had good manners and impressed her dad with his knowledge of South African politics and international rugby. He looked at the family photos on the wall and the mantelpiece, and endeared himself to Mom by asking about Ollie and listening with genuine interest as she spoke about him. Sadie had made a pot of vegetable curry, and they ate outside in the garden, on the sheltered veranda. There were candles on the table, and Dad’s multi-coloured lights were lit up in the big tree that she and Ollie had climbed as children. There was a citronella candle burning to discourage the mosquitoes, as well as her Dad’s “bug-zapper”, as he called it – a box mounted on the wall that attracted bugs with an ultra-violet light and then zapped them with an electric current when they got close.

  “This is really lovely, thank you,” said Joe, as they sat down to eat. “This veranda is amazing – British homes don’t have spaces like this.”

  “You don’t have the weather for it,” said Dad, spreading his napkin on his lap.

  Joe laughed. “That is a fact,” he said.

  Dad prayed before they ate, reaching out for Sadie’s and Elise’s hands as he bowed his head. They always held hands when they prayed before a meal, and Joe was quick to pick up on it and join in. He looked at Sadie as he took her hand, and again she hoped the candlelight would disguise her blush. She didn’t hear much of what Dad said; the feel of Joe’s hand in hers was too distracting. Thank you, Lord, for this food, she said quickly in her mind as she picked up her fork. But all she was really thinking about was that Joe’s cool, strong hand had just been in hers, and it had felt wonderful.

  “This is delicious, Elise,” said Joe, as they began the meal. Mom had never liked being called Mrs Wheeler and had insisted that he call her by her first name.

  “I can’t take the credit,” she said. “Sadie made it all. I just set the table!”

  Joe looked impressed. “Another talent of yours,” he said to Sadie. “Are you all vegetarians?”

  Elise laughed. “No, just Sadie. As soon as she was old enough to understand what meat was, she didn’t want to eat it.”

  “She’s always had a soft heart,” said Dad, taking a sip of his wine. “She can’t bear for anyone to be unhappy.”

  Sadie knew she was blushing now. “I know that,” said Joe, giving Sadie a look that made her want to look down at her lap. How could he give her looks like that and expect her not to get ideas? “She looked after all of us on the camp. Did she tell you about the accident? I still have a scar.”

  Sadie hadn’t told them, and Joe proceeded to tell her parents about that horrible day when the van had rolled back and hit Dave. She watched him and listened as he told the story, although her memories were different. She hardly recalled the immediate aftermath of the accident and how she had helped Dave; it was what had happened later that she would never forget. Bandaging Joe’s graze, holding his arm in her hand, watching his face as he bore the pain, and realising that she was gone, completely and utterly crazy about him – that was what she would remember about that day. Her mom was listening intently, her arms folded on the table in front of her. Sadie dropped her gaze, feeling suddenly a little sad as she remembered the heartache that had followed that afternoon. She sensed her Dad’s eyes on her and looked up at him. He wasn’t listening to Joe, he was sitting back and looking at her, his expression one of understanding, concern and pride all at the same time. She guessed he was very happy so far with the first man she had ever brought to visit them since the Paul disaster years before, and he could see that she liked him. Oh Dad, she thought. I know you just want me to be happy. We can both hope.

  There was strawberry cheesecake for dessert, and afterwards Mom and Dad excused themselves to watch Masterchef on TV, leaving Joe and Sadie alone on the veranda.

  “They’re nice,” said Joe, as they heard the faint strains of the TV from the living room.

  “They are,” said Sadie. “Best parents ever. Why don’t you take your shoes off and put your feet in the pool? It’s still so hot.”

  Sadie got up and took off her sandals, sitting down on the edge of the swimming pool. It was almost completely dark now, and the light inside the pool lit up the water as she put her feet into the coolness. Joe took off his shoes and rolled up his jeans, sat down on the bricks next to her and put his feet into the water. There was silence for a while. A bug flew into the zapper and met a brief end.

  “This beats February in the UK,” he said.

  She smiled. “Definitely.”

  “Your brother looked a lot like you,” he said. “Same face. Same glasses.”

  Sadie nodded. “We did look alike. I often wonder what he would look like now. He would be twenty-three.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He was born with a heart condition. The doctors said it was a miracle he lived as long as he did. He was always small, and never really well, but he had a big personality. He filled a room. It was so long ago, but I still miss him. There’s still a gap in our family; there always will be.”

  “I’m sorry, Sadie. I remember you once said you didn’t think you would ever want to live far away from your parents because they needed you.”

  “You remember that?” Sadie was surprised. She could hardly remember ever saying that, but she remembered knowing it. It was partly why she had never considered staying in the UK longer than she had.

  Joe nodded. “I also thought once I wouldn’t leave my Mum. But things are different now – we struggle to get along these days. When I started working in the Netherlands it was better for our relationship to be further away from each other.”

  “That’s sad,” said Sadie. “Is she a Christian?”

  Joe shook his head. “No – that’s part of the problem. She wants me to get married and settle down, or at least find a girl and co-habit as everyone seems to do these says, and she thinks it’s my ‘church’ that is stopping me from doing that. She’s still hoping that faith is a phase I’m going through and that I’ll get over it sometime.”

  “That’s hard, Joe. And your stepfather?”

  “He’s all right, but he goes along with whatever Mum says. We get along much better when we see each other a couple of times a year and don’t talk about religion, politics, or football.”

  Sadie laughed.

  “So tell me,” said Joe, “if you go and work on the Africa Mercy, isn’t that the same as leaving them to live overseas?”

  Sadie was surprised at the question. She thought for a moment before she answered. “In some senses it is. If I were to go full-time I wouldn’t be around for nine months of the year, but the other three I would be here. This wou
ld still be my base – it would still be home. Moving overseas would be very different. It would be choosing another home over the one I have here. And Mom and Dad totally get my dream to live on the ship. But it is just a dream, Joe. I don’t know how it would work out yet.”

  Joe nodded.

  “For now I’m here, delivering babies at St Stephens, living at home and saving what I can for another short stint on the ship. Maybe in September, or even December. That’s the extent of my plans right now. I’m praying that God will make a way for me to go. I am willing but after that it’s in his hands. Maybe he has something completely different in store for me.”

  Like you, Joe, she wanted to say. Like a life with you, serving him together, wherever that takes us. I pray about that too. But of course she said nothing about that.

  “Okay,” he said. “That’s good to know.”

  They sat in silence for a while. What is going on in his head? she thought. She really had no idea. She would have liked to believe that he was working out how her plans for her life could fit in with his somehow. But as far as she knew he didn’t have any plans past the middle of the year. Maybe he was just making conversation.

  “I was googling the ship the other day,” he said. “There was a video clip about the fistula program, and I thought I saw you in it, in the background.”

  “Yes!” she said, getting excited. “That was me! I remember when they made the video. I had only just arrived.”

  They talked about the ship for a while after that – Sadie didn’t ever need much convincing to talk about it. Time seemed to fly past until she heard the familiar music from the living room that meant that Masterchef was over.

  Joe stayed for coffee and another talk with Dad about rugby, and South Africa’s performance in the most recent international game. Dad even said that he and Joe should go and watch a match at Newlands some time, and Joe agreed. He left a little after ten, giving Sadie just a little hug as usual, before he got into his car and drove away. She walked back into the house, not knowing whether to feel encouraged or despondent.

  She knew Mom and Dad would have at least something to say.

  “What a lovely young man,” said Mom, from the couch, as Sadie locked the front door behind her. “I really like him, darling.”

  “Me too, Mom,” said Sadie, flopping down next to her and putting her head on her shoulder, suddenly feeling too tired to hide anything from her Mom any more. “I like him so much. But it might all come to nothing.”

  “Be patient, my girl,” said Dad from his chair, his eyes still on the TV. “A man like that doesn’t rush into anything, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You just let him take his time.”

  Sadie and her Mom looked at each other, their eyes wide, both wanting to laugh at Dad’s rare expression of an opinion on such a matter. “You go off to bed, love,” said Mom, giving Sadie a hug. “I’ll clean up. I think Dad’s right. Give it some time.”

  Chapter 38

  It was mid-March, and Linda had made good on her word and had organised a camping trip. She had searched online and found a campsite on a farm in the Cederberg mountains, and after a three-hour drive, the last part on an extremely bumpy gravel road along what could only be described as dangerous vertical cliffs, they had set up camp. So far, Linda was impressed with her choice – each huge campsite had a little shack containing a toilet, a basin and a shower, a sink for washing up and an electric light which would help to illuminate the site at night. She was sharing a small tent with Sadie – big enough to fit both their single air mattresses and still have space for their bags. Derek had, in honour of Linda’s decision to change her mind about camping, invested in a larger tent in which the single guys would sleep on this trip, and with which, he hoped, he and Linda would undertake many more trips in the future. Rudzani and Sibs were also there, in their own tent, and Tarryn, Denver and another dating couple, Kerry and Jared, had also joined them.

  It was so hot when they arrived that they hadn’t even unpacked or set up the tents – just found their swimming things and headed straight for the little stream that ran right behind the campsite. Beautifully cold, amber-coloured water made a small pool as it ran over some rocks – a little shallow for swimming but perfect for cooling off. Later they set up camp, spreading over two sites. Sadie tried not to laugh at Linda – after being very anti-camping she seemed to be enjoying it immensely. She loved setting up the tents and arranging the mattresses and sleeping bags inside, and then setting up a “kitchen” with their folding tables and the equipment they had brought along – some belonging to Derek and some borrowed from Sadie’s dad.

  “Come and sit for a while, Linda,” said Sadie, opening up a folding camp chair in the shade of one of the big trees on the site. “Get a drink and come and relax. You’re working so hard!”

  “I will, in a minute,” said Linda. “I’m just setting out the lunch so you can all help yourselves just now. Oh my gosh, did I forget the salt and pepper?”

  “No, they’re in that box with the label that says ‘condiments’ on it,” laughed Sadie. “With the tomato sauce, mustard, herbs, spices, chutney and anything else we might need for a month of cooking in it.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” said Linda, opening the box and arranging the contents on the tablecloth which she had especially made for this trip. She had found some fabric with pictures of wild animals on it: lions, zebras, elephants and even a tiger, and had actually sewed up a tablecloth. “It will be the camping tablecloth,” she had announced, as she showed it off to Derek and Sadie, and Sadie had no doubt that in the future it would be.

  “What’s for lunch?” said Denver, from where he lay on his side on a picnic mat, a long piece of grass in his mouth.

  “Rolls with tuna mayonnaise or cheese, salad and chips,” said Linda. “I hope you and Derek are organised for supper tonight.” They had shared out the meal preparation in pairs.

  “Oh yes,” said Denver. “We have meat and beers in the cooler box. And a few bags of wood from the little shop up there. That’s all we need, right?”

  Linda threw a dishcloth at him and he laughed. “Chill, Linda,” he said. “We’ve got it sorted. We have braai rolls, chips, potatoes to cook in tinfoil, and even mealies and butternut for Sadie.”

  Sadie smiled, leant back and looked over at Joe, who was lying on the mat beside Denver. He lay back, his head resting on a folded-up towel, his swimming shorts still damp from the swim. His skin, which had been winter-pale when he had first arrived, was going golden with all the time he was spending outdoors with Sadie and her friends on the weekends. It suited him.

  “I finally get to experience the famous South African campfire,” he said, getting up on one elbow. “Do you remember how unimpressed you were with the lack of campfire at that French campsite, Sadie?”

  Sadie smiled and shook her head. “You should have seen it, guys. No one made campfires, you weren’t even allowed to. A few people made little barbecues but didn’t do much more than cook viennas over them.”

  Derek laughed. “Seriously? We’ll have to educate Joe then, guys, on a lekker South African braai and campfire.”

  “Yeah!” said Jared. He was a tall dark-haired guy with a rather goofy smile, about Joe’s age, and he and Joe had become friends over the past few weeks. They had been going to a climbing gym together during the week. “Have you made a braai here yet, Joe?”

  “Not yet,” said Joe. “I have been to a braai but I haven’t been part of making one myself, though.”

  “Then it’s time to initiate you,” said Sibs.

  “I was a Scout in England,” said Joe, grinning. “I’m not completely ignorant when it comes to outdoor things.”

  “We’ll see later,” said Denver. “How about those rolls now, Linda?”

  “Everything is set up here,” said Linda, standing back and admiring the buffet she had arranged on the table. “Help yourselves, people. You need energy for the hike.”

  Later that evening, Sadie found
herself sitting next to Joe around a fire again, as she had almost three years earlier. The fire was bigger, the landscape was rougher, the company was a little less rowdy and raucous, and they had hiked up a mountain that afternoon instead of cruising the streets of Paris; but as she stared into the flames, a mug of hot chocolate in her hands and Joe sitting close beside her, she couldn’t help but feel a little déjà vu. Joe had impressed the other guys no end by getting the fire going with one match and not even one piece of Blitz, the paraffin firelighters that the others always used. Sadie had been impressed too. She would still have liked him, but she was glad that Joe wasn’t a smooth-handed English guy who couldn’t get a braai going. She liked that he hiked and climbed and camped. It sent her off on a little fantasy – maybe one day she and Joe would have a tent like Derek’s, and go off on camping trips together. It was such a sweet thought that she put it aside before it had a chance to make her discontent. Right here, right now, was pretty good.

  Somehow, after supper, the conversation turned to marriage. Rudzani and Sibs said something about sharing a bag for clothes when they went away, and then Linda said she didn’t think she would want to pack her clothes with Derek’s; she liked her own space. Soon they were talking about what sharing a life and a home was really like, and how Linda would feel about having her own space after she and Derek got married.

  “Some of us can’t really contribute to this conversation,” said Denver, holding a marshmallow on a stick over the fire, “having no prospects of marriage on our horizons.”

  Sadie felt nervous. Until now she had been a lively part of the conversation, while they were talking about all kinds of other things, but she didn’t want to be talking about marriage with Joe sitting right next to her. Also, she didn’t know how much the others had picked up – she and Joe were just friends, friends who went almost everywhere together, but still just friends. She hoped it wasn’t going to get awkward.