were in our other NNB outlets. Can you
arrange for us to meet the Directors of Golden Palm this week? I
would like to sound them out on this idea?’
‘Yes, I can ask
them.’ This new turn was certainly not planned.
‘Good,’ Brian
rubbed his hands, smiling. ‘I must say, it sounds like a marvellous
arrangement, the bank has almost zero risk.’
‘Yes, we were
most thorough on all aspects of the loan agreements,’ Evans said
proudly.
‘You have a
good team at that bank.’ Brian agreed. With the loans scheme out of
the way, the discussion turned to more everyday banking matters.
They drew the meeting to a close on a companionable note, agreeing
to meet in the morning, before going back to the dreaded police
station.
*
Lucy sauntered
along the main street of Malindi town, past coffee shops, furniture
showrooms, supermarkets and bars. The strip about a mile long, with
the White Marlin Hotel more or less at the end of it. She had
plenty of time, on the lookout for work, greeting acquaintances as
she strolled along. The bar where the police had picked her up was
open, but she wasn’t going back in there today.
At a beer
garden opposite the gates of the White Marlin she ordered a soda
and sat where she could watch the hotel entrance. There was no
point in trying to gain access to the complex, she would never be
allowed in on her own. As Lucy waited, she methodically painted her
nails with a colour matching her beret.
The gates
opened and a white car drove out with Evans at the wheel. ‘Good,’
she muttered with satisfaction, both at her nails and the sighting
of the manager. As luck would have it a few minutes later Brian
walked out still dressed in his surf shorts, trainers and T-shirt
and started to walk downtown, waving away offers from taxi
drivers.
Lucy blew on
her nails staring intently from across the road. It’s him, she
decided and leaving money on the table hastily followed. She
tottered across the road in her high heels almost colliding with a
cyclist. ‘Birin! Birin!’ She yelled out at the retreating
figure.
Hearing the
commotion behind him, he turned to see an African woman in a red
beret, high heels, breasts jiggling, bearing down on him. The woman
was shouting out ‘Birin!’ He stopped. ‘Hello Birin,’ breathed Lucy
as she caught up, smiling excitedly.
Brian looked at
her uncertainly. ‘Oh Lucy it’s you?’
‘Yes, it’s me.’
She gushed.
He held out his
hand formally. ‘Hello, how is the eye?’
Lucy took his
hand and held on. ‘Tell me, you see better than me,’ pushing her
face at him.
Brian tugged at
his hand to no avail. ‘Did you see a doctor? He peered at her eye.
Apart from the bruising, it was almost normal. The swelling had
mostly subsided.
‘Where you
going?’ asked Lucy, ignoring the question.
‘I was going
shopping,’ Brian answered.
‘Oh good,’ she
laughed with delight. ‘We go together.’
Brian managed
to get his hand back. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘What’s the
trouble, you nice man you don’t like me?’
‘No it’s not
that. I don’t know you,’ and he shrugged shyly.
‘I comes with
you,’ she decided for him. ‘I know Malindi, besti brices, they will
sheet you. What you want buy?’
‘Ah, listen, I
don’t think this is a good idea.’
‘Sure it is,’
Lucy smiled, ‘you heleped me, now I must helep you.’
‘Ok,’ he
relented to humour her. ‘Perhaps you can help me. I need good
shoes,’ he pointed at his trainers. ‘Do you know a shoe shop?’
‘Oh yes, a very
good one, let’s go.’ She took his arm and hailed a passing tuk-tuk.
‘Hey derever,’ she yelled out lustily, ‘wait! Ngoja !’ The
taxi pulled over noisily idling beside them. She dragged him
towards it. ‘Come, Birin let’s go.’
He laughed,
charmed despite himself. ‘Ok Lucy. By the way my name is Brian.’ He
climbed into the tuk-tuk.
Lucy gave the
driver an address and they set off. ‘Ok, yesi,’ she agreed, ‘Birin,
that is what I
arrange for us to meet the Directors of Golden Palm this week? I
would like to sound them out on this idea?’
‘Yes, I can ask
them.’ This new turn was certainly not planned.
‘Good,’ Brian
rubbed his hands, smiling. ‘I must say, it sounds like a marvellous
arrangement, the bank has almost zero risk.’
‘Yes, we were
most thorough on all aspects of the loan agreements,’ Evans said
proudly.
‘You have a
good team at that bank.’ Brian agreed. With the loans scheme out of
the way, the discussion turned to more everyday banking matters.
They drew the meeting to a close on a companionable note, agreeing
to meet in the morning, before going back to the dreaded police
station.
*
Lucy sauntered
along the main street of Malindi town, past coffee shops, furniture
showrooms, supermarkets and bars. The strip about a mile long, with
the White Marlin Hotel more or less at the end of it. She had
plenty of time, on the lookout for work, greeting acquaintances as
she strolled along. The bar where the police had picked her up was
open, but she wasn’t going back in there today.
At a beer
garden opposite the gates of the White Marlin she ordered a soda
and sat where she could watch the hotel entrance. There was no
point in trying to gain access to the complex, she would never be
allowed in on her own. As Lucy waited, she methodically painted her
nails with a colour matching her beret.
The gates
opened and a white car drove out with Evans at the wheel. ‘Good,’
she muttered with satisfaction, both at her nails and the sighting
of the manager. As luck would have it a few minutes later Brian
walked out still dressed in his surf shorts, trainers and T-shirt
and started to walk downtown, waving away offers from taxi
drivers.
Lucy blew on
her nails staring intently from across the road. It’s him, she
decided and leaving money on the table hastily followed. She
tottered across the road in her high heels almost colliding with a
cyclist. ‘Birin! Birin!’ She yelled out at the retreating
figure.
Hearing the
commotion behind him, he turned to see an African woman in a red
beret, high heels, breasts jiggling, bearing down on him. The woman
was shouting out ‘Birin!’ He stopped. ‘Hello Birin,’ breathed Lucy
as she caught up, smiling excitedly.
Brian looked at
her uncertainly. ‘Oh Lucy it’s you?’
‘Yes, it’s me.’
She gushed.
He held out his
hand formally. ‘Hello, how is the eye?’
Lucy took his
hand and held on. ‘Tell me, you see better than me,’ pushing her
face at him.
Brian tugged at
his hand to no avail. ‘Did you see a doctor? He peered at her eye.
Apart from the bruising, it was almost normal. The swelling had
mostly subsided.
‘Where you
going?’ asked Lucy, ignoring the question.
‘I was going
shopping,’ Brian answered.
‘Oh good,’ she
laughed with delight. ‘We go together.’
Brian managed
to get his hand back. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘What’s the
trouble, you nice man you don’t like me?’
‘No it’s not
that. I don’t know you,’ and he shrugged shyly.
‘I comes with
you,’ she decided for him. ‘I know Malindi, besti brices, they will
sheet you. What you want buy?’
‘Ah, listen, I
don’t think this is a good idea.’
‘Sure it is,’
Lucy smiled, ‘you heleped me, now I must helep you.’
‘Ok,’ he
relented to humour her. ‘Perhaps you can help me. I need good
shoes,’ he pointed at his trainers. ‘Do you know a shoe shop?’
‘Oh yes, a very
good one, let’s go.’ She took his arm and hailed a passing tuk-tuk.
‘Hey derever,’ she yelled out lustily, ‘wait! Ngoja !’ The
taxi pulled over noisily idling beside them. She dragged him
towards it. ‘Come, Birin let’s go.’
He laughed,
charmed despite himself. ‘Ok Lucy. By the way my name is Brian.’ He
climbed into the tuk-tuk.
Lucy gave the
driver an address and they set off. ‘Ok, yesi,’ she agreed, ‘Birin,
that is what I
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