Graham Tate-Fuller needs a wife. Not just any wife. One who is young enough to take on his education mission to the African continent and not ask too many questions about his past.
Lisbette Caldwell is just seventeen, a young woman who isn't re...
Manda walked into the station, asking to see Graham.
The man, who looked more like a boy, let his gaze glide towards her chest and down to hips in a way that would have made any other woman nervous our uncomfortable.
"Are you his, er, wife?" He said, licking his lips.
Manda smiled, "No. But he is with me."
The young constable looked confused but when she raised an eyebrow, he grasped her meaning, letting out a gentle whoosh through puckered lips. He had her sign in the book, grabbed the ring of keys and led her past mostly empty cells to the one at the far back.
"English," the officer said sharply, "you have a visitor."
For the past few days Graham was steeped in his own thoughts, reliving every detail of what he had done in Camden and even before. He wore a brown and yellow horizontal-striped cotton shirt and matching pants, standard wear for the more serious offenders. His face slightly smudged and his beard bristled giving him a more sinister appearance. Outwardly, he looked merely dishevelled, only in need of a good shower and shave to make him look more human, but his eyes belied his face. Graham's mind had created its own version of solitary confinement and without a visitor to talk to or anyone other than the odd guard who deposited his rations, he was spiralling into the kind of madness that merely mirrored sanity.
Manda felt her heart lurch. For the better part of two weeks she had worked, making inquiries, finding out what was this charge of murder about so her absence could not be helped.
"Graham," she whispered as the guard opened the door and let her in to him. He didn't stir, he just stared at the wall. His hand was chained to the wall at the top of the bed. As he had not shown any violent tendencies, the guards could afford to spare a little pity.
Manda spoke his name again, this time a little louder and he slowly looked up. The light in his eyes had faded, replaced by glassy confusion. Graham seemed to recognize her and smile slightly.
"I did not abandon you, English. I have been trying to get you out of this mess. I know you are not a murderer and did not kill anyone."
Graham said nothing. He just looked at her.
"The man they say you killed, he had been a smuggler. They found his body floating in the river with a gash at the side of his head from a cutlass. You don't own a cutlass. And on the night he was supposed to have been killed, you were with me. We were...together. So you see, now that I know this, you will be free soon. Not even the magistrate can ignore reason."
Graham's weak smile faded as he turned his attention again to the wall. Manda looked at him and ran her fingers down his chestnut hair. The minute her contacts mentioned Khetiwe's name, she knew. She had suspected Graham's foray into smuggling but what she had not foreseen was how deeply he dove into it. To buy spirits is one thing. To steal it from someone like Khetiwe was another and that was where Graham had made his fatal error. Khetiwe's reach far exceeded Graham's grasp and now he was losing his grip on reality. She could see it.
Manda felt tenderness born of an affection that she had never felt with anyone else before him. She had become accustomed to his presence and was determined to not be without it any more than necessary. Now that he was here and lost, he would need her. Manda would help Graham for the one reason that stood in her favor.
No one else would.
She slowly got up and called for the officer, who came faster than he probably would have for anyone else.
He opened the door for her. Manda stepped out and rested herself against the bars looking at Graham who barely stirred when the door lock clanked.
She asked "When is his trial? I want to be there. He has no one else to speak the truth for him."
He looked from her to Graham and back to her, sighing wistfully.
"According to the schedule, his hearing is next Friday after the denbaku ceremony"
Manda smiled inwardly. "Denbaku? I thought they did away with the old ways."
He shook his head slightly. "The old ways aren't completely buried by the English." He turned to Graham. "It is funny that the people who wish to have us tamed are sometimes the ones who fail to control themselves when they come here." He turned to Manda and continued. "I suppose it is easier to dip their sticks in the mud away from prying white eyes."
Manda turned to the boy, who gazed at her with mild reproach. She turned her body to him, with one hand on her hip. Her gaze assessed him from his feet up, stopping to look him in the eyes. "The mud is definitely more enjoyable with someone who has something more substantial than a meager stick and knows what to do with it."
Her unexpected response left the young constable blinking. Turning on her heel, she left him to look at her walk away. Manda had learned a long time ago that if she wanted something, there was no sense in being ashamed about it, especially when it came to men.
* * *
Despite the new project Lisbette had in store, she went about her regular lessons with the girls. All of them had returned to class more eager to learn than before. Egwen was just as helpful but it was Ziboya who had the biggest change. She was more invested in the classes now that she had some hope of possibly leaving Eyubea.
Later that week, as she prepared for the next day's class, Bett stormed through the front door in full riding gear. She hurriedly removed her goggles and skull cap, throwing them on the desk and called for Lisbette.
As Lisbette emerged from the kitchen, Bett grabbed her hand and placed the paper in it.
"I got a wire from my friend regarding your money and it seems that you may be in luck."
Lisbette read the message. Her mouth agape, she read it again.
"Twenty-five hundred pounds? That's more than my father makes in years of teaching."
"Oh, and read this one."
Lisbette read the new message and stared at Bett, who grinned widely.
"It seems that your father had made a special arrangement that in the event that you should ever run into a situation with Graham, if you were unhappy for any reason, you would be entitled to an additional five hundred and seventy-five pounds from the mission. That's a total of about three thousand pounds."
Lisbette fanned herself and shakily grabbed for a seat. That was more than what she needed. After she collected her breath, Bett gave Lisbette the information her friend relayed and Lisbette agreed to speak to him the following week about investing her new found fortune.
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