The Perils of Skinny-Dipping (9 page)

Richard found teaching a much more preferable form of employment than any job he had done so far. For the first time in his life he had power. Power over other people – the pupils. Richard soon learned that he could shout - actually, he could bellow - down a corridor and make the windows reverberate in their frames. He had missed out on the good old days when teachers were able to throw board rubbers and crack pupils’ knuckles with a ruler, but he still had tried and trusted methods, most of which were carried out in the darkness and privacy of the store room, which could render the hardest of students to a gibbering wreck. Richard had been very content for over fifteen years and been promoted to head of department, when a new head teacher arrived at the school.

Mrs Ryan had been appointed after a damning Ofsted Inspection, which had labelled the school as ‘failing’. She had stalked the corridors, carried out impromptu lesson observations and demanded to see evidence of lesson planning. Within six months, the staff turnover had doubled and Richard found himself working with two new colleagues. He had so far managed to keep his head down and away from the attention of the abominable Mrs Ryan, whom he had attempted to fob off on her first visit to the technical department with folders of paperwork and pupil projects. He knew it would not work a second time, and he was more than happy to let his new, younger colleagues set up teaching folders and schemes of work.

As well as the new paperwork regime, other procedures that simply went against the grain with Richard were also put in place. Department development plans and regular staff meetings were all now part of teaching life. Was there no stopping this control freak of a woman, who seemed to want to know about everything that shouldn’t concern her?

The ‘O’ level and subsequent GCSE results of Richard’s classes had always been below average, and it wasn’t long before Mrs Ryan had demanded a meeting to discuss why the classes of his less experienced colleagues were outperforming his. It was at the end of this particularly harrowing meeting that Richard had gone off sick with his first bout of food poisoning, followed by stress. Eventually, he spent more time at home (being paid), than he did in school.

After his sixth month off sick, he received a letter from the Director of Education, stating he had been given early retirement on ill-health grounds. Richard had reluctantly accepted the incredibly insulting offer, even though it dramatically reduced his pension, but he knew going back to work for Mrs Ryan was not an option. He also knew that his methods and teaching styles were not looked upon favourably by the new powers that resided in the education offices at the local council. He banked his cheque as soon as possible.

Before leaving for Botswana, Richard had spent the last few years picking up supply work and claiming benefits. The position at AVP was too good to be true and Richard wasted no time in applying. His elderly mother had been moved into sheltered accommodation and he really couldn’t see any reason not to break free. He had no real friends to speak of and, apart from one disastrous date with a fellow teacher from the English department, his love life was non-existent. He and women just didn’t get on. They were a funny breed and Richard had resigned himself to the fact that romance would never be an option in his life. However, being a virgin in his forties was not something Richard would ever share with anyone, although his mother probably knew as he had moved back in with her immediately after leaving Glasgow.

Two weeks later, after an interview in Manchester at the charity’s head office, he had been given the news that his application was successful and he should be ready to leave the United Kingdom within three months. Kasane had turned out to be the best thing that had happened to Richard in a long time. He had met like-minded people like Mr Permelo, who had introduced possibilities into Richard’s life that, in the past, he had only ever been able to dream about. That part of his life was a long way away now and, if Mr Permelo kept to his part of the bargain, it would never be a problem again.

A knock at the front door broke his train of thought. He looked at the clock. It was four o’clock on the dot.
Ah good
, he thought to himself,
another interview
. He quickly went into the bedroom and sprayed on the aftershave his mother had bought him as a leaving present, before opening the door.

Chapter
Ten

The beginning of the working week arrived all too quickly for Abbey. Richard did not mention the team-building day, but instead bustled about the office as if nothing untoward had happened at all. Abbey looked at Phil quizzically who shook his head and smiled.

‘
Oh Richard, before I forget. I need to see the holiday booking forms,’ shouted Abbey as Richard made his way out of the door.

Phil immediately looked up at Abbey, ‘Where are we off to, then?’

‘
Darren’s got to go to Cape Town for a meeting with some surveyors. He’s asked me to go with him.’

‘
Fab.’

‘
Yeah, I’ve never been and I’m really looking forward to it. We’re going to fly down tomorrow.’

Without any comment at all, Richard put the form on her desk. Abbey filled it out to request two weeks’ holiday, to start from the next day.

‘
Going to manage without me, Phil?’ she teased.

‘
Oh yeah, it’s going be a laugh a minute with Captain Pugwash over there,’ sighed Phil, motioning his hand at Richard, who was checking the compost bags outside.

‘
You’re in a good mood this morning,’ commented Abbey a little later, as Phil sang quietly to himself.

‘
Yep, that’s because I have a hot date tonight.’

Abbey raised her eyebrows. ‘Do I know the lucky girl?’

‘
Doubt it; she works in the office at one of the hotels. I hardly know her myself. She came around the house at the weekend, bold as brass, and asked me out.’

‘
Must be your football skills,’ laughed Abbey.

‘
Or the fact that I am completely irresistible to all women!’

Very early the next morning, Abbey and Darren flew down to Gaborone Airport and then boarded a South African Airlines plane to Cape Town. They hired a car and Darren drove towards the town, Abbey instantly noticing and appreciating the cooler temperature.

‘
Where are we staying?’ she asked, admiring the views around her, looking up in the direction of Table Mountain.

‘
I’ve booked us into a small hotel at Hout Bay,’ replied Darren. ‘It’s not far out of town and the beach is great.’

‘
Wow!’ gasped Abbey when they turned into the bay and onto the main promenade, which was lined with street cafés and restaurants. ‘What are those trees called?’ she asked, pointing to a line of tall trees, abundant with purple flowers.

‘
Those are Jacaranda trees. You can see them all over South Africa. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?’

The beach seemed to stretch for miles, and the views all around them were stunning with the most amazing houses positioned on the cliff, overlooking the bay. After checking in at the hotel, they spent the rest of the afternoon paddling and relaxing on the sand. The sun was hot but the breeze was exhilarating, and Abbey suddenly realised just how much she missed the sea. Not that Manchester was by the sea, but at least a beach was easily accessible, and you didn’t have to drive through other countries for days just to get a paddle. Living in a land-locked country somehow seemed to make the heat even more inescapable.

After a couple of days relaxing and following the tourist trails, they went into Cape Town. Darren had a meeting at ten-thirty so Abbey, armed with her credit cards, hit the shopping boulevard by the water’s edge. Now these were what she called clothes shops! Fashion in Kasane started and finished with the PEP store and Abbey had decided, on her first visit to PEP, she would probably rather walk round naked than wear any of the clothes available out of there. The Motswana people seemed to have a unique fashion style all of their own, and it was not unusual to see a pair of striped trousers, a checked jacket and a polka-dot shirt, all part of one ensemble, walking proudly down the street!

As she wandered around the boutiques, she started to feel quite underdressed as she noticed how smart most of the South African women looked and the care they obviously took about their appearance. She smiled, remembering her own morning routine before leaving for work back in Manchester. What would the then Abbey have thought of the now Abbey, in her cropped jeans and a cotton shirt, comfortably browsing around the shops?

By late afternoon, she had exhausted all the boutiques and was laden with shopping bags. She went to meet Darren outside at a café on the harbour.

‘
Get everything you need?’ he smiled with a slight tone of sarcasm in his voice at the sight of the glossy plastic bags hanging off her arms.

‘
Yeah, I think so.’

‘
What about another suitcase to pack them all into?’ he joked, embracing her warmly.

‘
Listen you, I’ve not had any retail therapy for months now, and I was getting serious withdrawal symptoms. Anyway, less about me - how did your meeting go?’ she asked.

‘
OK, I think we’re on track to deliver on time, although the suppliers are stoking up the pressure to get samples in sooner rather than later.’

Abbey wasn’t entirely convinced he was as confident as he was trying to make out. After a quick cup of coffee, watching the boats sail in and out of the harbour, they headed back to the hotel.

‘
I’ve booked a table at the fish restaurant on the beach for seven-thirty,’ said Darren when they had parked up.

‘
Oooh lovely,’ replied Abbey. ‘Now I can wear some of my new acquisitions.’

The fish restaurant was a wooden, two-storey building, which stood on the sand. The seating area was upstairs to make the most of the views across the water. Abbey and Darren had been given a table by the window.

‘
Umm, this food is just exquisite!’ she mumbled, as she ate her way through a plate of fresh oysters, lobster and the hugest prawns she had ever seen.

Darren watched her and smiled. ‘I knew you’d like it,’ he said, pouring her another glass of wine.

They watched the sun set on the horizon. It shimmered and went into an oval shape before vanishing into the Atlantic Ocean.

‘
Come on, we’ll finish off the evening with a walk on the beach,’ said Darren, taking her hand.

‘
I’ll have to take these heels off first,’ she giggled.

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the moon shone brightly casting streaks of silver light, which glistened and danced on top of the waves. Darren stopped on the wet sand just inches from the edge of the water, took hold of Abbey’s shoulders and looked directly at her.

‘
Abbey,’ he whispered, ‘are you happy?’

‘
Of course I am. I can’t remember ever being happier.’

Darren took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

‘
What is it?’ asked Abbey slightly concerned. ‘Is there something wrong?’

‘
No, not wrong exactly.’ His grip tightened on her shoulders. ‘Abbey, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’

Abbey’s eyes widened as she took a sharp intake of breath at what she had just heard. ‘Are you proposing?’ she asked.

‘
Would you like me to?’

‘
Try it and see!’

Darren took both her hands in his and squeezed tightly. ‘Abbey Harris, will you marry me?’

She dropped her shoes on to the sand and threw her arms around his neck. ‘Of course I will. Oh my god, I can’t believe it!’ she squealed.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her up, and kissed her passionately as the water lapped around his feet.

Phil looked at himself in the mirror. He had showered and shaved, and even ironed his shirt. He ruffled his hair with his hands. He couldn’t believe his luck. Ka Ka was one of the hottest girls in town. He had admired her from afar at the weekly football matches, trying to catch her eye, but always kept his distance given she was never short of male attention.

He went over the Sunday afternoon once again in his head. He had been lying in his hammock in the garden in the shade, quietly daydreaming. Her voice had woken him.

‘
I saw you from the road,’ she smiled. ‘I have watched you play football lots of times. Would you like some company?’

Ka Ka had stayed for the afternoon and Phil had enjoyed himself immensely. She chatted about her family and childhood days in Gaborone. She had come to Kasane after the promise of a good job in the hotel. In turn, he had described what it was like growing up in Sheffield, and his love of Sheffield United and football in general. She had smiled at him and nodded when he had asked her to go out for dinner with him the next evening.

Phil had booked a table at the President’s Lodge. He was determined to make an effort to impress in the hope of having a stable relationship. He was happy living in Kasane and, although Richard was enough to send a saint over the edge, he enjoyed his work, and the friendship that he and Abbey shared helped to keep Richard’s petulant manner in perspective. Abbey had got herself sorted and was now happily living with Darren, and he was keen to follow suit in finding a suitable partner.