plaster falling away in patches.
The interiors were filthy with dust, and sprinkled with the droppings of
the birds and reptiles that had made their homes in the thatch.
The mosquito gauze, that was intended to keep the wide verandas
insect-free, was rusted through and breaking away in tatters.
The vegetable gardens were overgrown, the fences about them falling to
pieces. The grounds of the home stead itself were thick with rank weed,
and not only the Land-Rover had died. No single piece of machinery on
the estate, water pump, toilet cistern, electricity generator, motor
vehicle, was in working order.
It's a mess, a frightful mess, David told Debra as they sat on the front
step and drank mugs of sweet tea. Fortunately David had thought to
bring emergency supplies with them.
, oh, Davey. I am so sorry, because I like it here. It's peaceful, so
quiet. I can just feel my nerves untying themselves. Don't be sorry.
I'm not. These old huts were built by Gramps back in the twenties, and
they weren't very well built even then. David's voice was full of a new
purpose, a determination that she had not heard for so long. It's a
fine excuse to tear the whole lot down, and build again. A place of our
own? she asked.
Yes, said David delightedly. That's it. That's just it! They flew
into Nelspruit, the nearest large town, the following day. In the week
of bustle and planning that followed they forgot their greater problems.
With an architect they planned the new homestead with care, taking into
consideration all their special requirements , a large airy study for
Debra, workshop and office for David, a kitchen laid out to make it safe
and easy for a blind cook, rooms without dangerous split levels and with
regular easily learned shapes, and finally a nursery section. When
David described this addition Debra asked cautiously, You making some
plans that I should know about?
You'll know about it, all right, he assured her.
The guest house was to be separate and self-contained and well away from
the main homestead, and the small hutment for the servants was a quarter
of a mile beyond that, screened by trees and the shoulder of the rocky
kopje that rose behind the homestead.
David bribed a building contractor from Nelspruit to postpone all his
other work, load his workmen on four heavy trucks and bring them out to
Jabulani.
They began on the main house, and while they worked, David was busy
resurfacing the airstrip, repairing the water pumps and such other
machinery as still had life left in it. However, the Land-Rover and the
electricity generator had to be replaced.
Within two months the new homestead was habitable, and they could move.
Debra set up her tape recorders beneath tbt: )ig windows overlooking the
shaded front garden, where the afternoon breeze could cool the room and
waft in the perfume of the frangipani and poinsettia blooms.
While David was completely absorbed in making Jabulani into a
comfortable home, Debra made her own arrangements.
Swiftly she explored and mapped in her mind all her immediate
surroundings. Within weeks she could move about the new house with all
the confidence of a person with normal sight and she had trained the
servants to replace each item of furniture in its exact position.
Always Zulu, the labrador pup, moved like a glossy black shadow beside
her. Early on he had decided that Debra needed his constant care, and
had made her his life's work.
Quickly he learned that it was useless staring at her or wagging his
tail, to attract her attention he must whine or pant. In other respects
she was also slightly feeble-minded, the only way to prevent her doing
stupid things like falling down the front steps or tripping over a
bucket left in the passage by a careless servant was to bump her with
his shoulder, or with his nose.
She had fallen readily into a pattern of work that kept her in her
workroom until noon each day, with Zulu curled at her feet.
David set up a large bird bath under the trees outside her window, so
the tapes she made had as a background the chatter and warble of half a
dozen varieties of wild birds. She had discovered a typist in Nelspruit
who could speak Hebrew, and David took the tapes in to her whenever he
flew to town for supplies and to collect the mail, and he brought each
batch of typing back with him for checking.
They worked together on this task, David reading each batch of writing
or correspondence aloud to her and making the alterations she asked for.
He made it a habit of reading almost everything, from newspapers to
novels, aloud.
Who needs braille with you around, Debra remarked, but it was more than
just the written word she needed to hear from him. It was each facet
and dimension of her new surroundings. She had never seen any of the
myriad of birds that flocked to drink and bathe below her window, though
she soon recognized each individual call and would pick out a stranger
immediately.
David, there's a new one, what it is? What does he look like? And he
must describe not only its plumage, but its mannerisms and its habits.
At other times he must describe to her exactly how the new buildings
fitted into their surroundings, the antics of Zulu the labrador, and
supply accurate descriptions of the servants, the view from the window
of her workroom, and a hundred other aspects of her new life.
In time the building was completed and the strangers left Jabulani, but
it was not until the crates from Israel containing their furniture and
other Possessions from Malik Street arrived that Jabulani started truly
to become their home.
The olive-wood table was placed under the window in the workroom.
I haven't been able to work properly, there was something missing - and
Debra ran her fingers caressingly across the inlaid ivory and ebony top
- until now Her books were in shelves on the wall beside the table, and
the leather suite in the new lounge looked very well with the
animal-skin rugs and woven wool carpets.
David hung the Ella Kadesh painting above the fireplace, Debra
determining the precise position for him by sense of touch.
Are you sure it shouldn't be a sixteenth of an inch higher? David asked
seriously.
Let's have no more lip from you, Morgan, I have to know exactly where it
is. Then the great brass bedstead was set up in the bedroom, and
covered with the ivory-coloured bedspread.
Debra bounced up and down on it happily.
Now, there is only one thing more that is missing she declared.
"What's that? he asked with mock anxiety. Is it something important?
Come here. She crooked a finger in his general direction. And I'll
show you just how important it is.
During the months of preparation they had not left The immediate
neighbourhood of the homestead, but now quite suddenly the rush and
bustle was over.
We have eighteen thousand acres and plenty of fourfooted neighbours,
let's go check it all out, David suggested.
They packed a cold lunch and the three of them climbed into the new
Land-Rover with Zulu relegated to the back seat. The road led naturally
down to the String of Pearls for this was the focal point of all life
upon the estate.
They left the Land-Rover amongst the fever trees and went down to the
ruins of the thatched summer house on the bank of the main pool.
The water aroused all Zulu's instincts and he plunged into it, paddling
out into the centre with obvious enjoyment. The water was clear as air,