Hannah could see that Todd was so taken aback by the zealous force of Douglas, he was rendered speechless.
‘And when I heard just now that her fiancé was here to fetch her, I thought this indeed was the Lord at work. I had to come across to meet the man who wants to take Hannah to wed. How wonderfully we are made. Are we not?’
Todd shifted in his chair. ‘Um, I’m not sure you understand—’
‘You are so right! Of course we do not understand the majesty of the Lord – how could we? Todd’ – Douglas looked seriously at Todd and gripped his arm – ‘our little community is holding a humble Bible study this afternoon. Will you come and lead us in our study of Lamentations? Hannah has told me of your incisive mind and authority. Your input would be enlightening.’
Todd opened his mouth to speak, but Douglas filled the gap: ‘And then! Then we could hold a simple ceremony of matrimony for you and Hannah. She is an honourable woman who does not set much store on the trappings of the world – I’m sure you know this already. She would be delighted with a small wedding, just the Bible study group to witness your troth. I will call our organist right this minute.’ He took his phone from his pocket and began tapping at the keys.
Todd interjected quickly: ‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible.’ He looked at the door. ‘I have a flight out of Bloemfontein this afternoon,’ he said, glancing at his watch. ‘I will need to leave… very soon.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Douglas settling in, ‘maybe another time.’ He called over his shoulder, ‘Barbara, how about some tea?’
Barbara grinned at Hannah and hurried down the passage to put the kettle on.
Now that Douglas was clearly not going anywhere, Todd stood awkwardly for a few moments and then picked up his case.
‘Travel well,’ called Douglas cheerfully.
Hannah opened the door for Todd and walked him down the steps to the pavement.
‘This isn’t over, Hannah.’ His eyes were mean.
‘Actually, Todd, it is over. Completely and utterly over. Please don’t contact me again.’
‘I said in the beginning and I’ll say it again now, Hannah. You’re a quitter. You won’t stick at this, just like all the other things you’ve started and then baled at the first hurdle.’
‘You’re wrong.’
He laughed. ‘Oh really? If I’m so wrong, why not come with me now and we can patch things up between us? Give it another go, hey, Hannah?’
‘And be the woman you cheat on for the rest of my life? Why would I?’
‘Because you’re not capable of more, Hannah. I’m the best opportunity you’ll have because I know you. Hell, I made you. No one else would put up with your dithering, your flakiness.’
‘Go to hell, Todd.’
‘Fine.’ He shrugged. ‘You know where to find me. I’ll be there to take you in when this’ – he gestured a circle to the town square – ‘this fucking fantasy is too much for you to bear.’
She stood as he walked to his rental car and waited until he disappeared around the square.
Hannah climbed slowly up the steps. So he was gone. It’s what she wanted. So why was she feeling so beaten? Breathing in a long, deep breath, she pushed open the shop door. Barbara and Douglas were sitting in the reading room, a tray of tea and the box of apple Danishes between them.
‘You, my girl,’ said Barbara, ‘need a cup of tea.’
Hannah smiled and sank into a chair just as the doorbell tinkled and Alistair peered round the door.
‘Alistair!’ called Douglas. ‘Come on in, we’ve been having fun and games and now we’re having Danishes.’
‘I’ve just come by to drop this off for my mum.’ He came in and put an envelope on the table next to Hannah. ‘It’s money for the book you brought her the other day?’
Hannah smiled up at him. ‘Oh, she needn’t have done that – it was a gift.’
He smiled briefly back and looked to Douglas. ‘What’s this about fun and games?’
‘We’ve just managed to see off Hannah’s fiancé, Todd. Marvellous performance on my part, hey, Barbara?’
Hannah didn’t hear the reply; she was watching Alistair. His mouth smiled, but she could see his brain trying to catch up, his face desperately covering his confusion. Hannah could feel him withdraw from her and she wanted so much to shout, ‘Stop!’, freeze the scene, make it rewind to a few moments before when she could have met him outside, told him herself, ended this awful slow-motion unfolding of her past for him.
But Alistair left a few minutes later with Douglas, who was still going on about Todd. Alistair said goodbye, but didn’t look at Hannah, and she felt the cut deeply.
‘Barbara, why are relationships such minefields?’ she asked, dropping her head on the table.
‘There’d be no thrill if there was no danger, sweetheart.’ Barbara squeezed Hannah’s shoulder as she left with the tea tray.
‘No thrill sounds rather nice right now,’ said Hannah to the empty room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Hannah saw nothing of Alistair for two weeks. He didn’t come near the shop, and when she visited the Goshen site with Joseph, there was no sign of him. Her guilt and relief intermingled. If he despised her so much that he didn’t want to see her, it certainly resolved the issue of their relationship. She didn’t know how to deal with her sense of loss, though. She had glimpsed a connection with him which had been so fragile but beautiful too. Spider-web like. The only thing she knew how to do was shut off. She immersed herself in finishing the journal instead.
The last sections of Rachel’s journal were terribly sad for Hannah to read. Rachel’s mother and little sisters were all dead, and Rachel still didn’t know.
March 1902, Goshen Camp, Orange River Colony
Dear Wolf,
I have not written for so long. As the weather cools again and autumn approaches, we are hard at work harvesting the crops. There seem to be more and more British moving across the veld. The more soldiers, the more mouths to feed, and the more we are expected to grow. The camp rules remain the same: if we work, we can buy food at a fair price. If we refuse to work, we’ll have to pay double. Work or starve – those are our choices.
Fewer people are coming into the camp at last. It is as if the war is getting tired now, running out of fuel. It can’t be bothered to bring more misery down onto the land. It is merely limping along, waiting for an end. I feel the same. No newcomers, but people are still dying here. The number of strong, well people is getting smaller. The load of work for us who can still bend to the fields is getting heavier. We see little of the doctor. He came one day with some visiting nurses. The women wore smart uniforms. Their white aprons and white veils looked so beautiful, so remarkably clean, we could only stare at them, our faces vacant and dull. A man took photographs of them and us, a record of their presence in the camp, but we have not seen them again.
The Methodist Episcopal minister, Reverend Charlie, has been several times to see us. He tells us the British have swarmed over this country like locusts. That the Boers left in the hills are bravely fighting, but that it is surely a lost cause now. The ‘Bittereindes’, he called them. And bitter indeed is the thought of you fighting for us while we feed the enemy.
Please don’t forget me here, Wolf. I want to go home. I want to see Oupa Jakob. I will be a good girl for Ma. I will never again complain about my share of the work. I will play with Lizzie and Kristina, whatever they want to play. I will never say I’m too busy again. I will never be angry with you again. I will never be jealous of your horses again. I’m sorry, Wolf.