Chapter 10 - THE DARKEST DAY OF ALL
His pistol was tucked down the back of his trousers.
We spend three or four weeks in the Strand apartment, with lazy days walking the beach and paddling in the warm sea. I often buy fish from the fishing boats around 4 o’clock in the afternoon and return to the apartment to cook a delicious fish supper with salad and fruit, just for the two of us. The letting agent appears one day to say that she has a long term let for the apartment and would we mind moving out as this let is too good to miss for her. I refuse but she eventually persuades me with the offer of a free months rent elsewhere. At the same time as she appears on the scene, Darnie calls to say that he has a property that I must view, as it is a real opportunity. Once I had viewed the property, a farm out at Botsrivier some 35 miles north of the Strand, I knew that I would buy it and therefore, moving out of the Strand apartment was less of a wrench as I knew that my son and I would be moving on soon anyway.
The farm sits by the side of the main N2 trunk road, out in the middle of nowhere really, in the countryside and well away from anyone that knows me. Whilst going through the negotiation stage for the farm purchase, I learn from my UK contacts that my extradition is being sought from South Africa by the UK authorities. This is not good news and is very upsetting for my youngest son who will be moving into the farm with me. In hindsight, there was never enough time for an in and out deal on a property, I would have been better just renting somewhere out of the way. The deal had appeal however and I knew that there was profit in the farm to be had. The present owner was under pressure from his bank to sell the farm as he had already committed himself to buying a replacement farm. As a consequence of this he needed a quick sale and the price was set accordingly to attract a quick buyer like me. All in all the farm boasted 29 hectacres, with a large farm house, a large garaging area and a small cottage close by that needed renovating. The owner’s farm manager lived in the farm house with his wife and two labourers and their families lived in the two labourers cottages at the bottom of one of the fields. There was also lots of water on the farm, which was a selling attraction. It was one of those deals where it appears to match one’s circumstances, being remote and well out of the way. It had pleasant accommodation and surroundings and one knows instinctively, that it is going to sell on without too much trouble, once it has been improved a bit. I had been told also by my UK contact that Dickie and Janice were still in jail and that apparently it was hoped that I would be traced and returned to the UK to stand trial with them.
