Anthills of the Savannah

“Yes, I am back,” she answered.

“Anything the matter?”

“Like what?”

“Are you all right, BB?”

“Why, of course. Do I sound as if I might not be all right?”

“Yes, you do… Are you alone?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, I’m coming over. See you.”

Twenty minutes later his car pulled up outside. Beatrice went not to the front door but to the kitchen door first, opened it and told Agatha that she was expecting someone and did not wish to be disturbed when he came up. Agatha’s saucy and suggestive look at this news led Beatrice to lock the kitchen door altogether. Then she went to answer the doorbell.

Chris decided to take the bull by the horn. As soon as he was let in he asked how the party went.

“Party? But that was last night.”

“Yes, it was last night. And I am asking how did it go?”

“It went all right.”

They were both seated now, she on the sofa, he on a chair across the low centre table standing on a brown circular rug. They sat staring at each other for minutes, if not hours. Chris was completely at a loss. He had never had to cope with BB in such a mood and was quite unprepared. At last he got up, walked a few steps and stopped in front of her.

“Will you be good enough, BB, to tell me in what way I have now offended you.”

“Offended me? Who said you offended me?”

“Then why are you behaving so strange.”

“I am not behaving strange. You are! Chris, you are behaving very strange indeed. Listen, let me ask you a simple question, Chris. I am the girl you say you want to marry. Right? OK, I am taken away in strange, very strange circumstances last night. I call you beforehand and tell you. You come over here and all you say to me is: ‘Don’t worry, it’s all right.’”

“I never said anything of the sort to you.”

“Chris, you asked me, the girl you want to marry, to travel forty miles at night to Abichi…”

“To Abichi? You didn’t say it was Abichi, did you?”

“That’s not the point. You asked the girl you want to marry to go along and keep all options open. Do you remember that? Well, I’m sorry to inform you I did not take your advice.”

“You are being…”

“Please, don’t interrupt. I go off forty miles to this weird party.”

“BB, you never told me it was to Abichi.”

“Please, let me finish. I am carried off to this strange place and my future husband retires to his bed, sleeps well, wakes up, listens to the BBC at seven, has his bath, eats his breakfast and sits down afterwards to read the papers. Perhaps even take a walk in the garden. It is still only nine o’clock, so perhaps you go to your study and attend to some work you brought home. And then, finally at midday you remember the girl you asked to keep all the options open. You pick up the phone and tell her oh, you’re back!”

“I didn’t want to call earlier if that’s what

you are complaining about…”

“I am not complaining about anything. You didn’t want to call earlier. Exactly. You didn’t! You know why you didn’t? Because you didn’t want to find out if I slept in Abichi with your boss.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”