The Song of Mawu. Jeff Edwards. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Jeff Edwards
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Политические детективы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781925282696
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      While Ali and Nori made their way inside to get settled in, the two youngest members of the board remained outside. They found seats on the patio and relaxed in the sunlight.

      ‘You’ve changed,’ said Justine in her usual blunt manner.

      ‘A lot happened out there to change me.’

      Justine nodded, ‘It was bad?’

      ‘Far worse than I could ever imagine. The pictures on TV don’t convey even part of the tragedy.’

      ‘Are you alright?’

      Eliza smiled wearily, ‘I’ll survive. That’s the problem you see. I’ll go on living, and living well, while those we left behind could be killed at any moment or die of a disease that should have been eradicated years ago.’

      ‘Are you saying that the project was a failure?’

      ‘Oh no! It’s doing wonderful things. The number of people we’ve helped is enormous and there are more successes every day! It’s just that we can’t get to everyone and they’re dying needlessly. It’s all so frustrating!’

      Justine could see how deeply her friend was effected, and took her hand, squeezing it to reassure her. ‘We’ll just have to rush more resources out to them. I know it doesn’t seem like much but it’s the best we can do.’

      Eliza nodded, ‘Before I left Britain I was naïve enough to believe that with all the money we had at our disposal it would be the simplest thing in the world to make things right, but from the day I arrived I found that all the money in the world can’t solve most of the problems of those poor people. Miracles are what they need and I’m not capable of that. We had to settle for second best solutions and doing what we could. I cried myself to sleep in frustration,’ she added sadly.

      From the direction of the compound’s front gate came the sound of a car, and Eliza watched as a small sedan with SECURITY emblazoned on its side climbed toward the house. Eliza could see that it was her father Teddy Strang the head of Security for The Fund at the wheel and she gave the car a small wave as it pulled up.

      ‘Eliza love!’ called her father as he climbed out, greeting his daughter with a hug, ‘I hardly recognised you.’

      ‘It’s me alright Daddy,’ she said with a wistful smile.

      ‘Well, I’ve come to take you home and get you settled in.’

      ‘I don’t really feel like travelling all the way back to London again. I think I’ll stay at the pub in the village. That way I’ll be on hand for the board meeting tomorrow.’

      ‘Oh we’re not going back to London,’ said her father, ‘While you’ve been away your friend Miss Suzie has found us a brand new house in her husband’s new sub-division. There’s miles of room for the whole family.’

      ‘You’ll be close enough to walk to work,’ commented Justine. ‘I’m going to do something similar. Maybe when I move out here we’ll be able to share a place?’

      ‘That might be fun,’ said Eliza, ‘We’ll be able to hunt for single males in the wilds of Walton Village.’

      ‘Don’t hold your breath,’ said Justine, ‘I’ve been checking out the local social scene already and there is very little in the way of ‘wild life’ hereabouts.’

      ‘Maybe things will change when we have the headquarters up and running. There’ll be lots of new blood flowing into the area when that happens.’

      ‘We can only hope,’ replied Justine wistfully.

      5

      At ten o’clock the following morning, a now fully rested group of travellers made their way through the pile of packing cases and plastic covered furniture that littered the lobby of The Fund’s new headquarters to the lift that would take them to the board room.

      Their current board room at the London office of The Fund was located near the vault in the basement of a former bank building, but now the lift they entered rose swiftly to the top floor of the new building. Here, the executive suites for The Fund were in the process of being furnished.

      An entire corner of the floor had been set aside for the board room with its sweeping views over the surrounding countryside.

      Just as it had in the old board room, the portrait of Jade Green done by Lana Reynolds dominated the wall behind the Chairman’s seat. This portrait had been painted using press photos taken at the time of her trial many years before as well as Lana’s memory of the woman she had only known as an elderly lady. The picture was of a middle aged woman, fashionably dressed for the period, with eyes of startling green that pierced the viewer to their core. It had been the legacy of Jade Green’s wealth and her dying wish, which had resulted in the creation of The Fund.

      Now, for the first time in many months, the full board of directors were gathered together.

      Justine Kemp, the self elected Chairman, sat at the head of the table, with Eliza Strang to her right, while Nori Akuba and her husband Ali took their places beside her. On Justine’s left sat Brian Reynolds and his wife Lana, with Suzie and then Toby Brown.

      ‘I declare the meeting to order,’ announced Justine. ‘I will now ask Brian Reynolds to read the minutes of the last meeting.’

      And so the meeting began with the usual administrative details being attended to. Several minutes later the formalities were out of the way and new business introduced.

      Justine began, ‘I now call on Eliza Strang to report on her African project.’

      Eliza cleared her throat while shuffling some of the papers before her. Then, quietly at first, but louder as her confidence grew, she made her report.

      ***

      Eliza’s report was extensive and the board of directors listened closely for over an hour as the true description of conditions in the refugee camp was revealed. Several times Eliza’s voice quavered as emotions overcame her, but she persisted.

      As her report was drawing to a conclusion there was a discreet tap on the door. The directors turned toward the door in surprise as Rodney Taylor, The Fund’s head of intelligence walked in. The grim look on his face filled those present with a feeling of impending doom.

      ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, but I thought you’d want to know right away,’ he said as he handed a slip of paper to the chairman.

      Justine read the note and her brow darkened. The rest of the directors watched her reaction closely and felt their stomachs knot in anticipation.

      Passing the note on to Brian Reynolds, Justine turned to Rodney Taylor. ‘Thanks Rodney. We’ll get back to you as soon as we’ve had a chance to discuss this.’

      Surprised and a little hurt that they didn’t want him to remain, Rodney let himself out. He was on very good terms with all the directors and had assumed that he would be asked to stay and offer his opinion on how to respond.

      ***

      Justine quickly wrote a note on a blank piece of paper and held it up for the other directors to read as Rod’s note was passed around the table.

      WAR ROOM were the only words on Justine’s message and the directors nodded to her without comment.

      Nori and Ali Akuba exchanged worried expressions as they read the message, but Eliza’s very loud ‘Shit!’ was the only vocal comment.

      ***

      Grasping the note in her clenched fist, Eliza was the first to stand, as the directors made their way silently to the lift lobby.

      As the last to enter the lift and therefore the closest one to its rows of buttons, Brian took his security pass from his pocket and waved it over the security pad.

      Unlike passes issued to all other staff, the directors had been designed to allow them, and only them, access to the