'Just one thing perturbs me a little, Sean. After all these years you come breezing in again - and the first thing you do is ask for half million dollars." Sean stood up and strolled across the gun room. The carved tus hung above the stone fireplace, the central position in the roan pride of place amongst all Shasa's own hunting trophies.
Sean studied it for a moment, and then turned back slowly to fac them.
'You never wrote to me once in all those years, Pater. That's a right, I understand why. But don't accuse me of not caring. I thougI about you and Nana every day I was away." It was cleverly done. H did not mention the tusk on the wall, and Centaine could have swor there were genuine tears just at the back of his marvellously gree clear eyes. She felt her doubts soften and begin to dissolve.
'My God, how can any woman resist him,' she thought. 'Even hi own grandmother!" She looked across at Shasa and was amazed t, see that Sean had shamed him. Neatly and adroitly he had shiftel guilt and Shasa had to cough and clear his throat before he couh speak.
'I must admit it sounds interesting,' he said gruffly. 'But you'l have to speak to Garry." 'Garry?" Sean asked in surprise.
'Garry is the director in charge of new projects and investments, Shasa told him and Sean smiled.
He had just knocked together two of the toughest, shrewdest head in the business. Garry would be a piece of cake.
Holly Carmichael's father was the Presbyterian minister of a smal parish in Scotland, and he and his wife flew out to Africa quite determined to see their daughter decently married, and to pay lo the privilege.
x Centaine took him for a ride around the estate and explained kindly that only by being very selective could she restrict her guest list to under a thousand. 'Those are just family friends, and our most important business and political associates. Of course it does not include the workers here on Weltevreden or the employees of Courtney Mining and Finance who will be accorded their own separate festivities." The Reverend Carmichael looked stricken.
'Madam, I love my daughter - but a clergyman's stipend--' 'I don't really like to mention it,' Centaine went on smoothly, 'but it is Holly's second marriage - and you have already done your duty with the first. I would be grateful if you would consent to perform the ceremony, and let me take care of the other small details." With one deft stroke Centaine had procured a clergyman to marry her grandson, for despite veiled offers to install stained-glass windows and restore church roofs, both the local Church of England and Anglican priests had refused to perform the offices. At the same time she had achieved a free hand with the wedding arrangements.
'It will be,' she promised herself, 'the wedding of the decade." The old slave church on the estate had been rethatched and restored for the occasion, and the bougainvillaea blossom of exactly the shade that Holly had chosen for her dress was flown down from the eastern Transvaal in the company aircraft to decorate it. The rest of the ceremony and the following celebrations were arranged on the same scale and with similar attention to detail with all the resources of Weltevreden and the Courtney group of companies to carry them through.
The church could seat only 150, and twenty of those were the coloured family retainers from the estate who had known and cared for Garry since the day of his birth. The other thousand guests waited in the marquee on the polo field and the ceremony was relayed to them over the public address system.
The road down the hill from the church to the polo field was lined with the other estate workers whose seniority and length of service were insufficient to procure them a seat in the church. They had stripped Centaine's rose garden of blooms and they showered Garry and his new bride with rose petals as they led the procession down the hill in the open carriage, and the women danced and sang and tried to touch Holly for luck as she went by.
In his grey topper Garry stood taller than Holly and his bulk of shoulder and chest made her seem light as a cloud of pink mist beside him, so lovely that the guests gasped and hummed with admiration as he brought her into the marquee on his arm.
The best man's speech was one of the highlights of the afternoon.
Sean had them roaring and squealing with laughter and clapping his most amusing sallies, although Holly frowned and reached for Garry's hand under the table when Sean made oblique references to Garry's stutter and his Charles Atlas course.
Sean was the first to dance with Holly after she and Garry had circled the floor in the wedding waltz. He held her close as they turned together and murmured, 'Silly girl, you could have had the pick of the litter, but, never fear, it's still not too late." 'I did and it is,' she replied, and her smile was cold and thorny.
'Now why donit you go off and give my bridesmaids the benefit of your charms. The poor things are panting like puppy dogs." Sean turned the rebuff with a light laugh and handed her over to Michael for the rest of the dance. While he snapped his fingers at one of the waiters to bring him another glass of champagne, he surveyed the tent from the vantage point of the raised dais, picking out the interesting females, making his selections not only on the basis of their looks but on their apparent availability. Those who sensed his scrutiny and blushed or simpered or boldly returned his regard went immediately to the head of his list.
In passing he noticed that Isabella had finally got around Nana, and was wearing one of those mini-skirts that were all the rage. The hem finished just below the creases of her cheeky little buttocks, and with the impartial eye of the connoisseur he saw that her legs were quite extraordinary, and that every man, no matter what his age, glanced down at them as she circled the dance floor.
Thinking of Nana, he looked around for her quickly. Her seat at the high table was empty. Then he found her. She was near the back of the tent, sitting at a table with a big burly man who had his back turned to Sean. They were in earnest conversation, and his grandmother's intensity interested him. He knew that Centaine never wasted effort on the trivialities. The man must be important. As he thought that, the man turned slighty and Sean recognized him. His heart skipped guiltily. It was the minister of police, Manfred De La Rey. He was the one who had quashed the charges against Sean, in return for his guarantee to leave the country and never return.
Sean's instinct was to slip away without drawing De La Rey's attention to himself and then he grinned at his own stupidity. He had just stood up and made a dashing speech in front of them all.
'How's that for drawing attention?" he thought, and then grinned again at his own daring. 'Living dangerously is half the fun,' he reminded himself, and jumped down off the dais without spilling a drop of champagne and deliberately sauntered across the tent towards his grandmother and her companion.
Centaine saw him coming and placed her hand on Manfred's sleeve. 'Careful, here he come now." It had just taken all her influence, a recital of all the debts and secrets between them, to protect Sean, and now here was the impudent young devil flaunting himself in front of Manfred.
She tried to warn him off with a frown, but Sean stooped and kissed her cheek. 'You are a genius, Nana, there has never been a party like this. The planning and the eye to detail - we are all proud of you!" He hugged her and though she pushed him off haughtily saying, 'Now don't be a big booby,' her frown was displaced by the ghost of a smile. 'Damn it, he's got the cheek of all the Courtneys,' she thought proudly, and then turned to Manfred.