“Can I just ask how you two know each other?”

“Hansie and me? Sure. Our families used to be neighbours. We farmed out Raffingora way. Parents were good friends. About the time I turned nine we got kicked off our farm. They stayed on theirs. They haven’t got much land now, but they’re still hanging in there. They’re not British, which helps.”

“Too right,” says Rudd.

“Same story with you?” Tim asks.

“Sort of. I was born here, at this place. My folks helped to get it going, but it got too dangerous, and we moved to Harare. Did most of my schooling there. Don’t think my dad ever got over it really. Never wanted me to come back.”

There is a polite cough. Tonderai appears in the doorway behind them.

“Hi Tonderai – can I help?”

“The chef would like to see you.”

 “Right. Five minutes, and I’ll come through.”

Tim’s eyes follow Tonderai as he walks away.

“These guys are so thin.”

“I know, and they’re the lucky ones. It’s tough up here.”

“First time I’ve been. It’s beautiful. Remote though. No wonder we’ve had to bring up so much food. Lots of it by the way. Chef checked it through and it’s all been offloaded in the kitchen. Everything’s listed on here.”

Rudd scans the sheet of paper.

“Great. Thanks. Meat looks good, and glad to have that bread. Our veggie garden is brilliant, and we’re not short of beer, but it’s the other stuff that’s not so easy to get.”

“Where do you get your supplies?”

Rudd explains the endless Harare, and cross border trips, that either he or a runner does.

“Smuggling?”

“Not quite.”

“Import/export?”

“Not quite. More like survival. We all do it, and most times the police just let us get on with it, but we never know for sure.”

Tim raises the last of his beer in salute.

“Cheers to that. How are the rooms working out?”

“Fine. Just had to make one change.”

Rudd tells Tim about Simi’s visit.

“She was a last minute booking, and we need the forex. Don’t get many from UK. Most just skip us for Vic Falls. Not sure why she’s here even, but we’re not complaining. Travelling solo.”

“She should join in, if she wants. Hansie would never turn anyone away.”

“That’s what I reckoned, and when I told him about it he said it would be fine. Just didn’t want the rooms to be swopped, so I’ve put her in my place, down at the front. It’s been redecorated so she’s got a good deal. I’m in the medical room.”

“If you’re okay with that … great. The only diva on our side is Jen’s mother. So long as she’s got a good room. Have you met her?”

Rudd shakes his head.

“Well, she dumped Jen’s dad, Bruce, and is now married to some Frenchman with loads of money. Lives in Paris most of the time I think. Everyone’s pretty amazed she’s coming back for the wedding.”

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

Rudd heads for the reception area, then hesitates. To his right the sun lies warm and beckoning over the grass. Imagining its warmth after the cool of the office, he steps down off the verandah on to it, and raises his arms above his head. Fingers linked, elbows stretched tight, he tips his face up to the sky, willing the muscles in his neck to relax. As he does so, he imagines Tonderai, master of the meet and greet, welcoming the guests.

Perfect day, Rudd thinks, all cyclone worries evaporating in the sunshine.

“Hi Rudd.”

He drops his arms, and spins around to see the broad bridegroom, Hansie, looking down at him from the edge of the verandah.

“Hi.” Rudd strides back up the steps to shake the outstretched hand. “Welcome! Who’s with you?”

“Tim’s over there by the bar. Tonderai said he would get us drinks.”

“Tim?”

“Best man. He flew out from the UK a few days ago. He’s clever hey, not like me. He’s a doctor.”

“Whaaat? An Englishman.”

“I know, hey? One of your lot. We’re getting soft.”

Rudd, laughs as he lengthens his step to match Hansie’s. He is always happy to see Hansie, four years his senior, and one of the decent prefects at his last school.

Up ahead Rudd sees a tall man leaning on the bar. He is silhouetted against the sun. As they get closer he picks out the details, the curly ginger hair, the glasses, the smile. Rudd holds out his hand, and he shakes it warmly.

“I’m Tim,” he says. “Beautiful place.”

“Rudd. Thanks. We think so.”

The mobile lying on the counter, lights up.

“You’re lucky to get any reception,” Rudd says, watching the best man’s grin widen as he checks the message.

“Yesss! They’ve got fuel. They’ve found some. I thought they were never going to get here.” He looks up at Hansie eyes half relief, half accusation. “Why go miles away when there’s no fuel? You’re mad. You know that? You’re completely mad.”

“This is normal for us, hey,” said Hansie. “You’ve been away too long.”

“Well, the bride is on her way.” Tim, raises his beer. “Cheers.”

“Cheers!” Hansie drains his glass. “No need for stress. I’m going to check on the dormitory. Is it good to go Rudd?”

“The squash courts?” Rudd laughs. “First time they’ve been called a dormitory. All fine when I looked in. Tonderai and Innocence set out the mattresses this morning.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No. I’m fine thanks Tim. You just drink that beer of yours, and maybe you could talk Rudd through the stuff we’ve brought up with us.”

“Let me know if you need any changes over there,” Rudd calls after Hansie.

Hansie raises a hand in response but does not stop.

“Okay,” Tim says, pulling out a piece of paper from his back pocket. “Let’s start with this.”

He unfolds the paper carefully and lays it on the table.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

Rudd opens the door wider, and waits. At last Tonderai speaks.

“I think this is serious,” he says.

“Really?” Rudd, tries to lift the word, to make it light and listening, but his efforts achieve nothing more than a silent nod, so he carries on. “Think about it, Tonderai. A cyclone has never reached here before, and … well, look at today … it’s beautiful. We’re here. We’re on the ground. We know the conditions. The guys who wrote this, they’re in some office somewhere, looking at screens all day. What do they know? And what have they ever got right about Zim before?”

“But I am worried. The weather changes too much. And our Chief has concerns.”

“The Chief?” Rudd sighs, his impatience mounting. “Okay, I respect the Chief. I do. We all do. He’s a good farmer, and he knows everything about everyone, but how is he going to know about this? I don’t think he’s even got a computer.”

“He has a radio,” says Tonderai, voice low. “His children have computers, and he has friends who work in Mutare, in the government office. He travels widely around the area. People come to see him. Important people.”

“Okay, but can he, can you, remember any huge storms here, like that report says might happen?”

Tonderai shakes his head slowly.

“And you’re what – sixty? My father’s in his fifties. He’s never mentioned a cyclone … well not one that did any real damage.”

“No. But maybe the Chief remembers. He is an old man.”

Rudd pauses. He looks at Tonderai, still as a rock, and wonders whether he is worried, or just testing him.

 “What does Innocence think?” he asks.

Tonderai shrugs, his shoulders saying that he knows, but doesn’t want to say. Rudd realises then, that he must persuade Tonderai urgently that there is no need for alarm or to alarm others, for if he does not Innocence will spread panic like peanut butter, sticking it everywhere.

“Tonderai,” he says, his tone less offhand, “it’s just you, me and Innocence who’ve seen this report?”

“And the Chief.”

“Not the other staff?”

“No. We waited. We want to know what you know.”

“Right. I heard nothing in Harare. Now, until we hear anything else, something from the government perhaps, we need to keep going. We can’t cancel this wedding, and we have a visitor from London. We must give them a good time. If you hear more, please talk to me first. Tell Innocence I shall tell him if we need to do anything.”

Tonderai nods, his agreement is slow and careful.

“Right. We need the money to pay the wages. So let’s go. If Ipsos comes, we make a plan.“

Rudd holds Tonderai’s gaze. Neither man moves. They hear laughter, and the thud of a car door closing. Then Tonderai turns.

“Okay,” he says, as he walks out into the sunlight.

Rudd, with a deep feeling of unease, shuts the office, and follows him out to meet the new arrivals.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023