Someone Wishes to Speak to You (16 page)

It was a convivial evening, though for Mathew and Lucienne it was poignant that circumstances differed so greatly to their previous dinner at the Hills’ home. There had been a great deal of happiness during their time in Atlanta, but now it was time to move on.

When the day of Mathew’s departure arrived, Lucienne had decided that it would be less traumatic for her if they had a quiet farewell lunch together at her flat rather than if she accompanied him to the airport. There was an understanding that they would talk about anything but her forthcoming trip to San Diego, which was due to take place at the end of the following week. It was a sombre and tearful occasion when Mathew caressed Lucienne for the last time, as he found himself saying goodbye to someone who he respected and loved so much. They had shared so many diverse and wonderful
times in Africa and in North America during the past eighteen months. As Mathew’s taxi drove away from the flat to take him to the airport, Lucienne put on the bravest of faces and amidst a flourish of farewell waves, she blew him a final kiss.

Later on that evening when his British Airways flight had lifted off from Atlanta, it was an extremely depressed and dejected-looking Dr Mathew Duncan that was to be found seated in business class with a double whisky and soda clasped in his right hand. Mathew had found himself in a state of emotional disarray and emptiness of spirit, and he could not help feeling that he had not only greatly let down a person who he admired and loved so much, but that he had also failed to satisfactorily live up to the moral standards of his upbringing and the faith and confidence that he once had in himself.

By the time Mathew’s flight had landed among the mists of Heathrow the following morning, Lucienne had been in contact with the clinic in San Diego to cancel her appointment for the termination. She had decided some time ago to continue with her pregnancy and keep the child that had been fathered by a man she had loved so deeply. Lucienne had also made up her mind that Mathew would not be told about the birth of their child, due in the spring of 1974, for many years to come.

Part Two

A Return to Africa; 1974–1979

5

Leopard’s Rock

The route through the attractive township of Umtali on the south-eastern border of Southern Rhodesia with Portuguese East Africa (PEA), took Mathew along avenues lined with blazing flamboyant blossoms, intermingled with the pinks and yellows of the aloes. The tarmac road soon gave way to an impacted earthen surface that wound its way some 32 km up into the Vumba Mountains. As Mathew drove his newly acquired (second-hand) 4 × 4 Land Rover higher into the densely forested mountains, a thick mist or
guti
came rolling down, reducing visibility in places to less than 10 metres. Here, thick vegetation flanked the track, sometimes meeting overhead to form a tunnel then clearing suddenly to reveal precipitous ravines, leading eastward to the dramatic range of Chimanimani Mountains. At intervals, crystalline streams could be seen cascading down the mountainside, flanked by abundant forest ferns and lush tangles of vegetation. Mathew was delighted to see laughing doves and purple-crested turacos swooping to and fro through the spray.

This was the type of environment that Mathew felt very much at home in, and he was already finding that his recent return to Africa was acting as an effective tonic to all the traumas he had experienced during the past three months. In particular, the emotional disarray that he had felt during his last few days with Lucienne in Atlanta, and the stress of their final parting when his mind had been so preoccupied by her
insistence on both going to the clinic and returning to Atlanta alone. He had dearly wished to be allowed to support her.

On his return to England for the Christmas of 1973, Mathew had phoned Lucienne on a number of occasions from the privacy of the Red Lion Inn in Burnsall. She had told him how her doctor was very pleased with her progress, but he couldn’t help feeling responsible for her and being concerned about her future welfare. During his time at Hartington Hall, Mathew often felt depressed and deceitful for keeping such a major event secret from not only his parents, but also from Sebastian and his close friends.

But now, after having been away from Africa for over a year, Mathew had returned to the continent that he so delighted in and found he had the opportunity to make a completely fresh start, hopefully with the benefit of the important lessons learnt over the past twelve months. He soon realised that in Ian Smith’s Republic of Rhodesia, it was important for him to keep his liberal views on race to himself initially in order to focus his attentions on his field studies. He would be studying the samango and vervet monkeys; both groups lived in the idyllic, lush habitat of the Vumba Mountains, along with other representatives of Rhodesia’s rich wildlife.

Before Mathew’s journey to Umtali to begin his field studies, he had stayed for ten days with Sir Roger and Lady Devra Willock at their sumptuous home in Salisbury. During his stay, Sir Roger had been extremely helpful by arranging for him to meet a cross-section of the people who could be of the most assistance to him. Some of the many useful contacts he made included Dr Simon Vaughan-Jones, Curator of the Victoria Museum in Salisbury, and his wife Anna, who were both carrying out behavioural studies on a captive colony of vervet monkeys; senior members of Rhodesia’s Game and National Park Departments (from which Mathew had to
obtain permits) and the Professor of Zoology at the University of Rhodesia.

‘When I arrived here,’ Sir Roger had explained, ‘it was quite without any publicity. Britain withdrew its High Commissioner soon after Ian Smith’s Unilateral Declaration of Independence in 1965, and my appointment was a result of the findings of the Pearce Commission of 1972, to try to find a settlement that would be satisfactory to both the African and European communities. Since the High Commissioner was withdrawn, there’s been no direct contact between the Rhodesian and British governments, so that’s where I come in.’ The Commission had recommended that as there was a degree of optimism in finding a political solution, it would be useful to have a senior British diplomat to set up a UK representative’s office in Salisbury, which could act as a reliable conduit of recommendations from all sides of the conflict – and so appointed Sir Roger Willock to the task.

During Mathew’s stay with the Willocks, he was delighted to hear more about Sir Roger’s time serving with his father in the Second World War. They were both in the 12th Royal Lancers during the Italian campaign, in the course of which they had both ended up as captains.

‘We lost far too many of our friends during the war, but we both felt very fortunate in having concluded our military activities with the liberation of Venice in April 1945. I’m sure your father’s told you that after VE Day on 8 May, we celebrated in some of the best bars and restaurants around St Mark’s Square. Nothing can compare to that experience, the sheer exuberance everyone felt once the war was over. No more fighting. People were cheering, shaking hands, hugging, kissing . . . The farewell dinner was at the Locanda Cipriani restaurant on Torcello, just off the Venetian coast – we had the finest food any of us had tasted since the beginning of the war. I shall never forget it. War can be utter hell; there’s nothing like the joy of being alive when it comes to end.’

Mathew had to have a meeting with a superintendent from Rhodesia’s Central Intelligence Organisation (CIO). Such interviews had recently become mandatory for any non-Rhodesian resident or passport holder who wanted to visit or stay in a border region with either Portuguese East Africa to the south-east or with Zambia to the north. The authorities had started to consider that due to the potential of increased insurgency by factions of the Zimbabwe African National Liberation Army (ZANLA) involved with Rhodesia’s fledgling Bush War, these border areas could become areas of conflict in the future.

During his meeting at the CIO headquarters, it had taken Mathew quite some time to impress on the intelligence officer why exactly he had come to Rhodesia.

‘I am neither a journalist investigating the success of Rhodesia’s United Nations sanction breaking,’ repeated Mathew slowly and clearly, ‘or a British spy reporting on counter-insurgency operations. The only reason I have come to Rhodesia is to carry out my post-doctorate comparative primate research. I need to set up a camp in the best possible area to carry out this research. I already have the full support of Dr Vaughan-Jones and his staff at the Victoria Museum and have agreed to share all my field observations with the museum authorities. I will be giving talks to both museum staff and members about my observations and have accepted an invitation to present a paper at a forthcoming symposium to be held at the University of Rhodesia’s Department of Zoology, on the subject of my doctorate field observations on the eastern lowland gorillas of Kahuzi-Biega in Zaire. Is there anything else you would like to know?’

During his last few days with the Willocks, Mathew had the great coincidence of meeting up again with Michael Lamb, who had acted as translator for his key-note address at Bielefeld
University in 1972. Lamb had only recently arrived in Salisbury with his American wife, Denise (who had the most bewitching of smiles), to take up the post of Private Secretary to Sir Roger as a part of the Foreign Office’s small cadre of Britain’s Diplomatic Corps presence in the country. Sir Roger told Mathew that one of the main priorities of his office was to help the politicians find a satisfactory way to break the current impasse between Rhodesia’s African and European political factions.

‘So you’ve been given permission to establish your research camp in the Vumba Mountains? It’s so close to the international borders with PEA, I’m surprised they’ve allowed it,’ said Michael as they discussed their respective reasons for being in Rhodesia. ‘The freedom fighters of the Mozambique Liberation Front have become more active in that area – it could be dangerous.’

‘Obviously they don’t believe the danger is that great, for the time being at least,’ replied Mathew.

‘Well, when you come back to Salisbury from the wilderness I really hope that we have the chance to see each other again. Of course I’m interested in your primate studies, but I’d also like to hear what you think about the attitudes of the African and European residents of the border region – PEA is leading up to independence from its colonial masters in Portugal and things are set to change.’

During their conversation, Mathew had been surprised at Lamb’s particular interest in the relationships between the black and white communities in this border region. As he had only just arrived in the country, Mathew was unaware of the seriousness of the ZANLA terrorist attacks on civilians from across Rhodesia’s border. Neither was he really aware of Rhodesia’s escalating Bush War. Most importantly, he had no idea that Michael Lamb was working under cover for the British Secret Intelligence Service, MI6.

*    *    *

Lamb hosted a small farewell dinner party for Mathew at his smart bungalow, at which his wife Denise introduced Mathew to Adeline Kinloch.

‘Call me Addie, all my friends do.’

‘Well then, Addie it is,’ smiled Mathew. ‘So how do you come to know the Lambs?’

‘I recently graduated from the University of Rhodesia and wasn’t sure what to do, when I heard about an opening in Sir Roger’s office carrying out his confidential secretarial duties and those of his private secretary, Michael – Denise’s husband. Sounds rather dull but it really isn’t . . . suits me down to the ground,’ she smiled. Addie was of medium height, with a head of unruly curly auburn hair. Her ochre-coloured eyes had a lively sparkle to them and her smiling countenance was blessed by two dimples that appeared as small rosettes on each of her freckled cheeks whenever she laughed.

‘I first met Michael years ago when I was giving a keynote address in Germany and he was acting as a translator,’ said Mathew. ‘I just happened to bump into him over here – Sir Roger is a friend of my father’s, I’m staying with him for a few days before I head off to the border country to do some field studies.’

‘Sounds fascinating,’ smiled Addie. ‘Tell me more.’

During the evening, Mathew found himself to be very relaxed in the company of these two attractive women; a feeling he hadn’t had for several months. Although Denise and Addie’s backgrounds were different, it was obvious by the way they interacted and laughed together that they had already become good friends. Mathew found both of them to be independently spirited and to have an extraordinary gift for friendship, as well as being intelligent, fun-seeking and to have a very positive and optimistic outlook on life, although he was quick to remind himself that at this early stage of his time in Rhodesia, he would have to be careful not to become caught up within the imbroglios of any further
romances. He knew that the order of the day for him had to be the development of mature friendships, rather than more intimate associations. On Addie’s part, she was attracted to Mathew’s very Englishness, his quiet sense of humour and self-effacing disposition, and through her female intuition was aware that he found both her and Denise to be enjoyable company. At the end of the evening, Mathew asked Addie if she would like to join him for dinner one evening while he was still in Salisbury. They made an arrangement to meet three days later at a local restaurant.

Subsequent to the Lamb’s dinner party, Sir Roger told Mathew that Addie’s father, Group Captain Miles Kinloch, had served with distinction in the RAF during the Second World War and had been awarded a DFC (Distinguished Flying Cross) for his part in the Battle of Britain. Soon after having received the award from King George VI, the RAF had posted him to Southern Rhodesia to instruct at the Elementary Flying Training School (EFTS) at Guinea Fowl Airfield in central Southern Rhodesia. Here, more than half of the course members had been Australians, some were Rhodesians and the rest arrived from the UK.