Vitaly Karmanov stood at the entrance to meet Morag.
‘Delighted to meet you, doctor,’ he said shaking her unsteady hand.
‘I should say, First Secretary, that Morag is not quite a doctor yet, but her opportunity to experience tropical medicine here will take her further down that road.’
‘I’m very pleased to meet you and grateful that you are able to host Robert while I am here,’ she said, giving a generous smile.
‘Who am I to thwart true love?’ Vitaly said, with a smile as wide as an eagle’s wingspan. ‘Take her bags to the reception Samuel, and Robert go to the conservatory with your fiancée for a refreshing drink—I am sure Morag will appreciate that after such a long flight.’
Morag glanced at me on hearing the word fiancée. I opened my hand and waved her through the reception area to the conservatory, where several fans whirled away helping to keep things tolerably cool.
‘This is so palatial. Not what I expected.’
‘Nor I. I’ll tell you about it by the pool.’
‘There’s a pool?’
‘Out the back. You’ll love it,’ I said, seeing a servant arrive with our drinks. I stood up. The servant offered us two fresh orange ice-filled glasses from the tray. I took them both and passed one to Morag.
‘May I join you?’ asked Vitaly, entering the spacious room.
‘Please do,’ I said.
He sat opposite us.
‘I’m delighted that you were able to bring Robert down from Tamale,’ Morag said.
‘You are at Korle Bu for six weeks, not so?’ Vitaly said.
‘Yes.’
‘Then Robert will be here for the duration of your stay in Accra. He won’t be returning to Tamale.’
‘He won’t be returning to Tamale? Not even after I leave?’
Vitaly shook his head. ‘We are indigenising the factory. Letting the locals take over. They are ready for that. Robert did a fine job bringing them on. As I say, it’s time for them to take over.’
Morag sipped her orange juice, clinking her ice cubes as she did. ‘So, if Robert is not going back to Tamale, have you decided on another place, or will he be coming home?’
I saw the importance of her question. It made me uncomfortable, yet I needed to know what was on Vitaly’s mind.
‘Well, that’s a good question. I guess there are a few options. We could find him a job elsewhere, outside Ghana perhaps—we could offer you both a post if you wish? We could send him back to Europe too.’
Morag smiled. ‘You mean back to Scotland?’
Vitaly sipped his drink then placed the glass purposefully down on his coaster. ‘Europe is a big continent. Scotland is not out of the question.’
‘Vitaly, Morag has to be at the hospital later today. Perhaps there’s time to go to the pool soon?’
‘Yes, excellent idea and be back for lunch at 1 p.m.’ he said as he coaxed the last few orange bits out of his glass. Then he left the conservatory.
Each time Morag tried to ask a sensitive question, I placed my finger to my lips then I tapped my ear. She gleaned it was not always safe to talk openly.
At the pool, seeing it was only mid-morning, I lay out two sun loungers opposite where my afternoon position usually was. This was near a garden plot of herbs. I looked around. I lowered my voice as Morag laid her towel over her white shins.
‘Always suspect there is a recording device around.’
‘I can speak Glaswegian if you wish?’ she joked.
‘I think we are safe here. Not many swims in the morning. If there’s a microphone around, I suspect it’s on the other side of the pool. There’s not much cover for a mike around the sun loungers here.’
‘Well, wherever it is, I need some answers, Robert. What the hell is going on? You’ve lost your job and they bend over backwards for you here in Accra, just because I’ve arrived. It doesn’t make sense. Their generosity is outstanding. Why?’
‘You are right. It doesn’t make sense. I’ve been a fool. I’m caught up in something. There’s much to tell you but not here. Come on let’s get into the pool.’
‘Last one in is a sissy,’ she said.
I took a leap into the water after her. When I surfaced, I saw Vitaly at the window.
Chapter 19
Korle Bu Teaching Hospital
Korle Bu hospital had a brightly shining entrance. Palm trees with their sprayed branches seem to wave Morag a welcome. The sea was not far away and the smell of decaying seaweed gave our nostrils a twinge.
I insisted on carrying Morag’s baggage, thus depriving several impoverished helpers. I suppose I did not wish to share Morag with anyone.
At the reception, Morag showed her letter of appointment and the receptionist lifted the telephone.
As she waited for a reply, she held her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘Take a seat over there for a moment, please.’
We sat down and Morag looked around. ‘It’s a very modern hospital.’
‘It certainly is. I hope your placement goes well for you.’
‘Me too. Can we talk freely now?’
‘Looks like Korle Bu will be our free-to-talk place from now on.’
‘So, let’s get it right from the very start. What is going on? You have not been totally open with me in your letters.’
‘I know. I will give you all the facts. I need to offload a lot. I think I already told you, it began on holiday, on Jura.’
That was all I could say. A doctor was approaching with a welcoming smile.
‘I’m Dr Amma Swaniker. I am delighted to meet you,’ she said to Morag. ‘So you are from Scotland, Glasgow University. I did my postgraduate medicine at Edinburgh University.’
‘Then you know Scotland well,’ Morag said.
‘I visited many parts. It’s a beautiful country. Now, is this—your husband?’
‘No, Robert is not my husband.’
‘Ah, I see. Well, we don’t allow men coming to the unmarried doctors’ rooms.’
I could see Morag’s shoulders drop. She was not happy with what she had just been told, especially as she was anxious to learn more about her boyfriend. ‘No he’s not my husband. He’s my fiancé,’ she replied with feeling.
A shudder went through my body. Her statement sounded so good. But I suspected she only said it so she could learn more of my situation while out of the earshot of the Russian embassy.
‘I see, then that’s quite different. You didn’t inform us of your engagement.’
‘I do apologise. We have not been engaged very long,’ Morag said, clearly uncomfortable with lying. I sympathised with her.
‘Let me take you over to the doctor’s quarters.’ She talked as we walked. ‘You’ll find A&E behind reception. That is where you report—tomorrow at 8 a.m.’ She turned to me. I detected her question.
‘Robert Harvie,’ I said.
‘Mr Harvie, you have accommodation in Accra?’
‘Yes, on the outskirts of the city.’
‘I see,’ she said and to further satisfy her curiosity she enquired, ‘what line of work you are engaged in, may I ask.’
‘It’s diplomatic work.’
‘Ah, of course. The residential compounds near the airport.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘You have a fine group of diplomatic staff at the British embassy.’
‘You know us?’ I asked, with more than a degree of concern about my lies.
‘Not for a while. I have not been back to Scotland for several years now. My visa has certainly lapsed. The staff will have changed by now anyway, I am sure.’
‘Yes, our tours are not that long,’ I said.
‘Then I think we should give you both a double room rather than the one I had planned. It has a double bed.’
I could have kissed this doctor at that moment. But she had a further word of caution.
‘There is a curfew of course, even for those who are engaged. It is at 10 p.m.’ She unlocked the door. The room was sun-drenched, with a view over the sea.