Rage Read Free

is the same.’
    He did not move for a moment, but stared at her. She knew that he would never forget her again, his scrutiny seemed to set her skin on fire, and then he nodded.
    â€˜I know you,’ he acknowledged, and once again his voice made her shiver, deep and melodious, filled with the rhythm and cadence of Africa. ‘We will meet again.’
    Then he passed on and without a backward glance disappeared around the corner of the panelled corridor. She stood staring after him, and her heart was pounding, her breath burned the back of her throat.
    â€˜Moses Gama,’ she whispered his name aloud. ‘Messiah and warrior of Africa—’ then she paused and shook her head. ‘What are you doing here, in this of all places?’
    The possibilities intrigued and stirred her, for now she knew with a deep instinct that the crusade was afoot, and she longed to be part of it. She wanted to do more than merely stand on a street corner with a black sash draped
over her shoulder. She knew Moses Gama had only to crook his finger and she would follow him, she and ten million others.
    â€˜We will meet again,’ he had promised, and she believed him.
    Light with joy she went on down the passageway. She had her own key to her father’s office and as she fitted it to the lock, her eyes were on a level with the brass plate:

    COLONEL BLAINE MALCOMESS
DEPUTY LEADER OF THE OPPOSITION

    With surprise she found that the lock was already opened, and she pushed the door wide and went in.
    Centaine Courtney-Malcomess turned from the window beyond the desk to confront her. ‘I have been waiting for you, young lady.’ Centaine’s French accent was an affectation that annoyed Tara. She has been back to France just once in thirty-five years, she thought, and lifted her chin defiantly.
    â€˜Don’t toss your head at me, Tara chérie ,’ Centaine went on. ‘When you act like a child, you must expect to be treated as a child.’
    â€˜No, Mater, you are wrong. I do not expect you to treat me as a child, not now or ever. I am a married woman of thirty-three years of age, the mother of four children and the mistress of my own establishment.’
    Centaine sighed. ‘All right,’ she nodded. ‘My concern made me ill-mannered, and I apologize. Let’s not make this discussion any more difficult for each other than it already is.’
    â€˜I was not aware that we needed to discuss anything.’
    â€˜Sit down, Tara,’ Centaine ordered, and Tara obeyed instinctively and then was annoyed with herself for doing so. Centaine took her father’s chair behind the desk, and
Tara resented that also — it was Daddy’s chair and this woman had no right to it.
    â€˜You have just told me that you are a wife with four children,’ Centaine spoke quietly. ‘Would you not agree that you have a duty—’
    â€˜My children are well cared for,’ Tara flared at her. ‘You cannot accuse me of that.’
    â€˜And what about your husband and your marriage?’
    â€˜What about Shasa?’ Tara was immediately defensive.
    â€˜You tell me,’ Centaine invited.
    â€˜It’s none of your business.’
    â€˜Oh, but it is,’ Centaine contradicted her. ‘I have devoted my entire life to Shasa. I plan for him to be one of the leaders of this nation.’ She paused and a dreamy glaze covered her eyes for a moment, and she seemed to squint slightly. Tara had noticed that expression before, whenever Centaine was in deep thought, and now she wanted to break in upon it as brutally as she could.
    â€˜That’s impossible and you know it.’
    Centaine’s eyes snapped back into focus and she glared at Tara. ‘Nothing is impossible – not for me, not for us.’
    â€˜Oh yes it is,’ Tara gloated. ‘You know as well as I do that the Nationalists have gerrymandered the electorate, that they have even loaded the