No, it wasn’t a figment of my imagination. It was definitely a man. A man – standing on the side of the road in the shimmering, white heat of that God-forsaken landscape. His appearance became clearer as I pulled off the road beside him.
“Could you give me a ride?” he asked, too exhausted and parched for pleasantries but tilting his head and smiling appealingly. And how could I refuse? How could I possibly leave a beautiful man to bake in that overwhelming heat on that desperately lonely road between Grootfontein and Windhoek?
He slumped heavily into the passenger’s seat of my van, which lurched to one side under his weight. Crotchet, my little Jack Russell, snarled and moved up against me, one protective paw on my thigh. He dropped a light green canvas bag and his battered khaki hat on the floor and snatched at my water bottle. After several noisy gulps he was able to speak.
His presence seemed to fill the whole cab. Sideways glances revealed a chiseled, unshaven face and firm jaw. Sweat ran down his temples and settled in little rivulets in the craggy lines of his high cheeks. His dark hair whipped around his face in the wind. He was pretty cool, I thought – a bit like one of those rugged men who smoked Marlborough cigarettes in glamorous advertisements on TV. There was a strange undefinable smell about him. It seemed to be a combination of all sorts of things – sweat, old tobacco and earthy dust.
In no time a cosy intimacy seemed to develop between us. With my permission he produced a pipe and tobacco from his bag and soon the air was thick with the sweet nostalgic smell of its intoxicating smoke. I pressed the “go” button on my CD player and, as if to order, my special Adele sang, “Hello, it’s me. I was wondering If after all these years you’d like to meet …..”
It was one of those magical moments. And as he relaxed his story slowly unfolded. He was an unmarried German geologist based in Namibia to prospect for minerals, he said. “There are diamonds around here,” he said, “and zinc, and tungsten and uranium…” His accented voice took on a purring intensity, as if these precious metals carried a kind of liquid, transformative magic.
And how had he come to be standing on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, I asked. It was easily explained: his vehicle had overheated and his phone had run out of power, so he had abandoned his vehicle and walked to the main road. If he was clever, he could still make his minerals excavation meeting in Windhoek the next day.
And then it had been my turn to talk – my turn to talk about how I had left my job, my flat and my boyfriend David in a fit of rage. I was heading for Windhoek to lick my wounds and start my sad little life all over again.
“Cut negative people out of your life,” Sarah. “Delete anybody who makes you feel bad about yourself. And if you don’t feel too negative about me, how about dinner tonight at the Kalahari Sands Hotel?”
Believe me, this is what happiness is: the possibility of dinner for two with an intriguing and beautiful stranger!
I dropped my new-found friend in the heart of town and headed for my Airbnb nearby. There was time for a reviving cup of tea and a moment to feed Crotchet. Then to bath and dress for dinnerwhile I watched the TV news:
“Police are seeking any information about a dark-haired, well-built male German National who is believed to have set his Toyota Rav alight just off the Grootfontein Road. Forensic reports have confirmed that the charred remains of his wife were found in the car. The suspect was last seen wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He was carrying a pale green bag and was wearing a khaki hat. It is thought that he could be heading for the airport.”
“What! How could I have been so naïve? How could the bastard have conned me so successfully? So that is what he meant about “deleting the negatives from your life”. I seemed suddenly to have run out of breath. There was a kind of metallic taste on my tongue – a palpable bitterness that made me want to gag.
The police and staff from the Windhoek Observer arrived at the same time. I told them all I could and then posed for the reporters. Crotchet sat on my lap for the photos. The photographer seemed to capture the smug little look on his face – a look that said, “I KNEW he was no good. I tried to tell you from the start.”
I looked out of my window at the night sky and spotted the tail lights of a plane winking and blinking on its way skywards. My German companion would be aboard, ordering champagne and smugly celebrating his escape. Interpol would be busy from here on …….
So then I ordered a pizza for one and gave the experience a lot of thought. Somehow it confirmed one thing: my David might not be remotely beautiful but his soul was pure and good. I would give him a ring after supper. He was no negative and I would never ‘delete’ him!