Section 91 has no place to hide
As Edinburgh became a diminutive blur on the horizon behind them and they began the long drive back to East Anglia, Nsansa and Vernon agreed that it had been worth the effort. They’d discovered traces of Glasgow’s architectural genius to be found around the capital, the taste of the East and the sometimes priceless trinkets of the commonwealth offered to royalty. They’d both enjoyed the cosmopolitan feel of the city, with its bars and theatres, cinemas and art galleries, palaces …and castle. Vernon had been torn between awe at the impregnable bleak grandeur of the castle and a sense of its vulnerability to time. Given time every bastion of human advantage or prowess eventually buckles, rusts, withers or ruins, or just become plain irrelevant. Who’d expect to hole up in Edinburgh castle now for very long? There was no place to hide any more, consider Waco, Texas, or the bearded fugitives Karadzic and bin Laden. Nevertheless the city was dignified and the castle guarded over that dignity with an impressive stony decorum.
It was a long drive. And, eventually Vernon was able to quiz Nsansa about her intentions and her background. An impression had already formed in his mind regarding her family and this was strengthened as she disclosed the sums of money she sent home to support the meandering fortunes of her unemployed brothers and the sense of resentment that hit her like a wall of humidity whenever she visited them in Lusaka.
“The lawyer. They call me the lawyer and say I’m only interested in procedures and money. I get no thanks and I stay away.”
Nsansa switched on her laptop hoping for some job details or replies to applications…
“Mmmm. Cintu nshi, What drama is this? You’ve a message from Thailand from Mr Snapper… He says the other candidate has pulled out due to family difficulties, do you want the job ‘man’ and if so can you call urgently. Better check if it’s really for you, he calls you Vaughn.”
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