Paradise Revisited (3 page)

He was moved to think rationally about his brief time as Assistant Manager.  That had been part of the fantasy.  He had inherited the position without any qualifications for the job like the younger brother of the heir apparent that he was. It would never have worked even if Mike hadn’t turned against him. He had loved
Matambala without knowing how it worked and love was not enough.  He was a naturalist, not a manager.  He was passionate about preserving nature, but not about growing perfect tea.

They hadn’t been equipped for the inevitable collapse. Only Megan, who had never been wholly part of the
community, had survived more or less intact. He thought to himself that though he was not intact either emotionally or physically, he had survived and, he realized suddenly was determined to continue to survive.  He had come home and it was still home, no matter how damaged and dilapidated, and he, with Megan’s help, would work for something better. Though the past could never be recovered, the future could be made to work.

With that decision, he went for a nap, sleeping until drinks time before dinner.

***

Chapter 6 - A Look Forward

When Megan joined him, pouring herself a gin and tonic, she had done a lot of thinking and Andy had already become part of her plan for Matambala. A woman alone had great difficulty running a tea estate singlehandedly, no matter how skilled she was at management. Andy had been a child when he had left, but had grown into a man.  With her help, he could face the reality of Matambala today. She had his love for the place to work with and, she thought with a small tremor of shame, his love for her. She’d always known that he had formed a puppylike attachment for her when she came to Malawi and she had to admit that though her adult passion had been for Mike, she’d had a lot of affection for Andy, maybe more than she’d ever had for Mike.  That was a foundation to build on, and however cold-bloodedly she used it, it was congenial to them both. She had dressed appropriately for the task she was engaged in, and was very fetching in it.

Settling in one of the easy chairs, she asked, “How did the afternoon go?”

“Very well, actually.  I went on a trip down memory lane and was wallowing in nostalgia, but also seeing things in a new and more accurate light. It was a beautiful life, but there was rot at its core.”

“Oh yes, indeed. I saw that almost at once and tried to make Mike see it. But he couldn’t and that’s part of went wrong both with the estate and between us. The idea frightened him, so he pushed it away furiously and every time reality impinged, the fury broke through.
I soon learned not to mention it. I knew, for instance, that sacking you was a mistake he’d deeply regret, but if I had objected, it would have made him even more obdurate.

“How are things now, really?”

“Well, we’re making it, barely. But there’s so much to be done and not enough money to do it with. And the government is dysfunctional when not actively malign. You can’t blame them. They got power suddenly without training; they have a mindset that doesn’t fit the way the modern world works, and have to deal with 200 years of mistreatment on top of that.  But in fact, the economy is a shambles, which makes things very difficult for businesses, especially on estates like ours that existed with near slave labour. “

“And frankly, I need help I can depend on.  The staff I’ve gathered are knowledgeable, intelligent, reasonably hard working, but they don’t have the loyalty that family members would have, and when the chips are down they regard their families and their clan as more important than
Matambala.”

“And you’ve got your beady eyes on me.”

“Well, that’s putting it too strongly, but if you decided to stay indefinitely, it would be a pleasure and a boon.  But you must decide. I’ve no intention of pressuring you.”

“I admit it’s crossed my mind.”  He sudd
enly realized the assurance he’d felt in the afternoon was gone. “But I’m not ready to commit to it – or anything for that matter.  I’ll stay for a few weeks and then we’ll see. “

***

Chapter 7 – A Failure

“OK, we’ll see how it goes. A glass of wine with dinner?”

Andy hesitated. He was careful with alcohol, though not teetotal.  “Sure, why not?”

So, Megan asked Joshua to open a bottle which they finished off between them during a delicious curry meal, and afterwards on the verandah for coffee, Megan offered Mulanje Gold, the local cream liqueur, which had come on the market after Andy had left and was produced on a nearby estate.  Andy accepted, though with misgivings, with the result that when it was bedtime they were both very relaxed and free to be themselves.

As they rose to go inside, Andy reached out to hug Megan with his good arm as he had the night before, but unlike the night before, Megan turned the hug into an embrace and kissed him on the cheek. Andy drew back looked at her.  There was
tiredness in her face that moved him deeply, and he wanted very much to wipe it off her face.  He raised his eyebrows and said, “Is this going where it seems to be going?”

“I think
so Andy, if you want.”

“I want. I’v
e wanted for years. It was torture watching you and Mike making out and even worse, heading into your room at all times of the day and night.”  He took her lips in his, gently at first and then hungrily as she responded. 

After a
moment Megan drew him towards her bedroom and once inside, she began to undress him, beginning with his jersey and his shirt.  She took his injured arm in both hands and tightened her grip when he tried to jerk it away.  “It doesn’t matter, Andy. It’s not your hands I’m particularly interested in.  She kissed the surgical scars above the stump.  Besides we’re neither of us the people we were when we first met.  I’ve been scarred too, though in less visible ways, perhaps.  You’ve seen my hair. There are strands of grey inside my head too.

And with kisses as light as butterflies, she began with the hollows below his ears and continued over his torso until she reached the belt of his trousers while he caressed her back with his hand. “Megan, my dear, you’ve no idea how many times I’ve imagined this.  Even when I was in the deepest pit of despair, half unconscious  from drugs, you’d come into my  daydreams like an angel of light to remind me that I once had a life more beautiful than most people ever dreamed of.  It helped.  

“Andy
, even in the heat of Mike’s courtship, I would wonder if I’d chosen the right brother.  You were such a source of life for us all. When Mike sent you away, it was like the lights all over Thyolo went out.”

Together they sank onto the bed. Andy undid the buttons of her blouse and unhooked her bra.  Her breasts, though mature, were beautifully shaped and the skin of them soft as silk.
Lying on his side, he pulled her on to hers and cupped them one by one with his hand, worshipping them with his tongue, then taking in turn her nipples in his mouth, one by one, and sucking gently until they stood erect.  She arched her back, thrusting them up towards him and felt the waves of passion flow through her. It had been a long time since she’d been treated as anything but an object of lust. Continuing to caress her breasts, he buried his face in the bowl of her belly and inhaled her fragrance, lifting her to his mouth with his arm. As he lay next to her, she sat up and undid the buttons of his trousers one by one, kissing the skin she exposed as she went.  His erect manhood was already half out of his boxer shorts, and she reached in and caressed him, drawing his scrotum out where she could kiss it.

Andy began
to moan and the suddenly cried out, “My God, Stop! Stop! Don’t move.”  But although Megan did stop, it was too late and Andy emptied himself onto the coverlet.  “Shit!  Shit! Shit!”  I’m sorry. It’s been too long. And the way I feel about you, Megan.  It was too much. I’m sorry! The estate clown in action again! All together, now, let’s laugh at Andy.”

“Don’t
worry, Andy, it’s something that happens to all men, at least in my limited experience.”

“Even Mike?”

“Oh, yes! Especially when he was worried sick and tried to bury his fears in me.” Collecting some tissues from her dressing table, she cleaned him and the coverlet up, and lay down beside him again and with him in her arms, kissed his face,: his eyelids, the corners of his eyes,  his cheekbones,  his earlobes and finally his lips, a long languorous kiss of healing and forgiveness, of love and approval.  “Don’t fret. No shame. No regrets. No remorse. You are my Andy, and I love you just the way you are.” It was lightly said, but also, she realized with a twinge of surprise, was meant.

“I love you too,
Megan, I’ve never been all that I wanted to be, not with Matambala, not with Mike, not with you.  But with your help, I can at last find a way to be what I can be and be content with that.”  And they lay together for a long time, content to be entwined with each other soul and body.

Some time during the
night, Andy went to his own bed, where Buddy was waiting patiently.

***

Chapter 8 – A Difficult Visit

The next morning, Andy woke up with the conviction that he had to see his brother. He couldn’t just sail in, commit adultery with his wife, and never visit him.  So he told Megan what he was going to do, determined despite her disapproval, and after breakfast, drove up to Limbe where Newlands Home for Elderly Europeans was.  Megan had given him directions to where the total care unit was and had phoned ahead to warn them that he was coming, so he was welcomed warmly and ushered into his brother’s room without delay. 

The man who was lying flat on the bed was scarcely recognizable as his brother.  His flesh had melted away and he was skin and bones.
His black hair had faded to a dusty brown and was close cropped to his head and his skin had taken on a yellowish tinge quite different from the ruddiness he’d had when Andy had last seen him. His eyes were dull and he looked at Andy without any interest. “Who are you?”

“I’m Andy, Mike. Don’t you remember me?

“I have a brother named Andy. A useless chap he is, too, but he’s in England or somewhere. “

“No, Mike, I’m your brother, Andy.”

The eyes looked at him with a slight stir of interest, but Mike spoke without inflection. “Oh, are you. Do you know where that bitch Megan is? You remember. The slut who married me for my money.”

“She’s on the estate. Do you want to see her?”

“No, not especially.  I only want to tell her to go to hell, and if you know where she is, you can do that for me.”   That utterance, almost shouted, seemed to exhaust him and he closed his eyes and mumbled, “Nice to see you Andy,” and seemed to fall asleep, but roused enough to mutter, “Life’s a bitch, isn’t it!”

Andy, close to tears, turned and fled, but once he was outside the room, the nurse stopped him.  “If you’re family, you should know that his kidney function is deteriorating.   The doctors are sending his wife a report, but they say there’s not much that can be done and it’s only a matter of time.”

Andy thanked her and stumbled out to the car, his mind in turmoil.  To see his brother like that had been torture and the thought of his impending death a blow. But at the same time he had been moved to pity and concern.  Mike, whatever his faults, whatever his condition, was still his brother and deserved every consideration he could manage. The realization that sleeping with his wife was not part of that picture struck Andy with brutal power.   Whatever lust he felt, and the night before had made it clear that there was plenty of lust, would have to be put under wraps.  He couldn’t screw his brother’s wife when his brother was lying helpless and dying in a hospital bed just a few miles away.

When he got home, cold meats and
salads were on the table and Megan had just sat down. The table was set for 2 on the assumption that he would come for it, and he pulled out the chair at his place and sat in it.

Megan searched his face for a clue as to how he was feeling
, but whatever that was was masked. “How did it go?”

“OK.  He recognized me, but didn’t seem to care much.”

“He doesn’t care about anything much.”

He had to get this over with.
“The thing is that I found I
do
care. He’s still my brother despite everything. I love him...”

“I do too, Andy, despite everything.”

“…so I can’t sleep with his wife with him lying helpless in a bed just a few miles away. Sorry!”

There was a long silence and then Megan said,
“Oh!  Well, OK, we’ll shelve that part.”  Megan spoke without expression, but in fact, she was deeply disappointed.  The night before had roused passions she’d all but forgotten and she recognized that Andy’s decision weakened her position. “But you’ll stay on.”

“Of course!  It isn’t that I don’t love you. I do. I always have since the first day you arrived and got out of the car right over there. Nothing has changed about that.”

Megan thought to herself that a great deal had changed, but didn’t say so. She’d have to find a way to live with and build on what she had. Failing to think of anything else that could be sad, she said briskly, “Well, then. Let’s get going with what we can do.  While you were gone, I thought out some work I can give to you right away and then there’ll be more later.”