I simply laughed and drank from my bottle. Harvey grinned and shook his head.
“You don’t wanna know, man, you really don’t want to go there. Shit, I know and it blows my mind. I’m fine when I don’t think about it,” he said, taking a long drink from his beer.
“Harvey!” I admonished.
“Okay, just so you know, boss,” he said, holding up one hand in surrender.
Carl was looking from one of us to the other.
“What have I missed?” he asked.
“Nothing,” we said in unison and laughed.
Harvey rubbed his aching back and drained his bottle, ordering another.
“Why the fuck can’t these people make decent roads?” he asked.
Carl shrugged. “When the British left in 1957, I don’t think much in this region has been done since. Where have you come from?”
“Accra. I mean, it’s not that far, but it took us damn near fourteen hours,” Harvey said. The two men then discussed, at some length, the state of the Ghanaian roads and transportation in general, while I negotiated with the barman for another beer. As always, the staff were incredibly polite but ever so slow in doing anything.
We ordered some fried chicken and retired to a table further from the bar to await its arrival.
“Okay, Julianna, you know why I’m here; what’s your brief?” Carl asked.
“Simple, I’m to cover the next few days and see what gives.”
“Cover?”
“I’m a journalist, remember?”
“Yeah right, like I’m a choirboy,” he muttered, making Harvey laugh in mid-swallow of his beer. He just managed to refrain from spraying us.
“Seriously, I am. On this one I’m strictly an observer,” I said.
“How come I don’t believe you?” Carl asked.
“You’ve a nasty suspicious mind, that’s why. But, think about it. What the hell can a girl like me do on her own?”
Harvey coughed.
“Okay, almost on her own?”
Carl grinned. “Shit girl, I don’t have a clue, so I’m going to enjoy watching this.
Harvey’s phone rang and he answered it. Then, with a sheepish grin, he nodded to me, got up and walked outside, talking on the phone. I grinned, as I had an inkling who was calling.
Carl took my hand.
“I missed you,” he repeated, looking all serious for a change.
“Try altering the sights, one click should do it,” I joked.
He was polite enough to laugh, but he also gave my hand a squeeze.
“For the first time in my life I meet a girl who’s just what I dreamed of and, pow, she vanishes over night.”
Our eyes met.
“You could have called,” he admonished.
“No, Carl, I couldn’t. Things have been, ah, well, let’s just say that things have been very difficult for me of late.”
“Is there someone else?” he asked.
It was my turn to laugh.
“No, no one else. If it’s any consolation, I did think about you quite a lot.”
He finished his beer and waved at the barman for another round. I told him I’d had enough, so he held up two fingers only.
“It’s funny, but I couldn’t think of much else, right up to when you walked in. I was thinking about you even then. Now, I have to tell you, no one has ever got to me like you have,” he said.
“Oh,” I said. There wasn’t much I could say to that.
“I’m no angel, but you probably already know that.”
“I know, but then angels are in heaven and we’re all full of shit down here, me included,” I said.
“No, you’re like an angel to me,” he said, squeezing my hand again.
“Look, Carl, don’t put me on a pedestal, I’ll only get vertigo and fall on my ass. There are things about me that would make you run a mile.”
“Try me?” he said.
“No, you’re not ready.”
“If it makes any difference, I don’t give a shit. I’m not used to saying these sorts of things, but hey, I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”
My heart skipped a beat, while at the same time I felt a wave of depression hit me. On the one hand I was thrilled that he felt like this, particularly I as was attracted to him. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure that a relationship with Carl was helpful to me or what I was doing.
I dearly wanted to say something flippant and funny, but for some reason I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I don’t believe it, you’re silent. I feel a right dingbat now, sorry,” he said, releasing my hand.
I reclaimed his hand and gave him a squeeze.
“No, Carl, don’t feel like that, as I’m truly flattered and pleased. I’m more than a little surprised, though.”
“Surprised, how come? I mean, I thought we got on well, and okay, maybe I hoped you felt the same way about me.”
I felt awkward. How could I talk my way out of this?
“Like I told you, my life is complicated just now. Maybe I do feel something; but I have to tell you it’s not sensible.”
“Since when has love had anything to do with sensible? Look, I’ve fought and fucked my way round half the sodding world, and here I am getting tongue tied and silly with you in a sweaty bar in the back and beyond of nowhere. I’d do anything to keep a clear head and focussed on what I’m meant to be doing, but you’ve fucked me up good and proper. You’re all I think about, so don’t lecture me about sensible, okay?”
In a classic example of excellent timing, the chicken arrived. I looked round to see Harvey returning to the table.
“How is she?” I asked as he sat down.
“She’s good.”
“Is she in Ghana?”
“Yup, I called her at the airport, before I met your flight. She’s down in Accra, so I’m hoping we can get together after all this shit is over.”
The conversation flitted about over trivial things during the meal. Carl wasn’t about to let Harvey know how he felt about me, and Harvey, having read Carl’s file, wasn’t about to give too much away to Carl.
The food was surprisingly good, but as I finished, a wave of fatigue washed over me. I stood up.
“I’m going to have another shower and go to bed. I’ll see you guys at breakfast, okay?”
Carl stood and was about to say something, and changed it to “Goodnight,” instead.
Harvey grinned and nodded at me with a full mouthful.
I lay on my bed for a while, as even with the air conditioning on, it was still sticky. I thought about visiting Carl, but wasn’t ready for that, as I knew he’d want to get intimate, and this was neither the time nor the place for me to lose my virginity.
Chapter Sixteen.
As an accredited member of the International press, I was permitted to enter the small enclosure marked off for the occasion. Harvey stayed with the vehicle, as he was far more concerned with safeguarding the equipment.
Tamale airport was small and typically Ghanaian. With regular flights to reasonably local destinations, it wasn’t in the big league, but it had achieved International Status. The terminal was modern, functional and utilitarian, but as with many things in Ghana, looked not quite finished. I guessed that it never would be.
The many police with military back up herded the representatives of the press into our little enclosure to await the arrival of the flight that supposedly contained the deposed president of Mgombi. Like African uniformed officials, they liked throwing their weight around, shouting a lot and generally being bossy. The Ghanaians added a modicum of politeness alongside the shouting, which made me smile.
Ex-President Holasu G'ymbai had flown into Accra from Switzerland a few days ago, where, it was rumoured, he’d secretly met with some senior generals of his nation’s army who were displeased with the current regime. No details were forthcoming about these meetings, but now he was moving that one step closer to his home. There was a strange Hercules transport parked on a remote stand, guarded by members of the Ghanaian army. It was believed to belong to an element of the Mgombi Air Force who were loyal to the deposed president and were waiting to return him to his country when the time was right.