Adelaide
I close my eyes and brace for the impact.
As soon as the two wheels hit the ground, the aircraft lurches from side to side before the pilot regains control and we start to slow down considerably.
We’ve gone from a few hundred miles to just a few miles.
I glance at Ford. His calmness personified. From what I know, nothing upsets him.
When he catches me looking, he takes my hand and gives it a little squeeze.
“Made it,” he says and leans forward to kiss me.
Being the only two passengers in a small plane, it takes little time to disembark. After the pilot hands us our bags, we’re on our way. I pay for a taxi to take us to our hotel.
The expense is worth it because I reach my destination quickly. I’m no good to anyone if I fall in a heap.
What’s the point of walking to our hotel and collapse with sheer exhaustion?
When the taxi stops outside the Sangkara Nairobi, I quash any doubt in my mind.
So it’s a five star hotel. Sure, it’s expensive. But heck, I’m worth it.
It’s not as if I waste money on anything extravagant any time of the year.
I’m not using funds provided by Doctors Without Borders. I’m using my own money for the little luxury of a good hotel. Since I don’t come to town often, and I’ve worked hard over the last few months, I think I deserve the treat.
Unlike my peers, I haven’t bought a new dress in forever; neither have I been shoe shopping or putting any money through the pokies.
“You coming or you’ve grown roots in there?”
Ford’s voice rouses me from my navel gazing.
I’m not sure whom I’m trying to convince by justifying my actions, myself or someone else?
“Coming.”
When I go to the cab’s trunk to pick up my bag, I see Ford’s already got it.
We enter the grand entrance side by side and walk toward reception.
Large wall-to-ceiling glass front doors in gold and brass fittings gives guests the feeling that the hotel’s different.
In today’s market you have to stand out—be different.
“We’ve booked a room,” I say to the young woman behind the marble counter looking very efficient.
“Ford and Adelaide—”
“Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong. I’ve got you in one of our deluxe suits.”
At the mention of Mr. and Mrs., my cheeks flush. Wow.
Did we look like a couple already? And not just a couple but a married couple?
“Ehm sorry to interrupt,” Ford says, and I look at him. “But it’s not Mr. and Mrs. It’s Mr. Armstrong and Ms. Johansen.”
“Sorry, Sir,” the girl mumbles and keeps her eye on the computer screen in front of her.
His words are like a slap in the face.
Why did he go to the trouble of correcting the girl? Did it really matter how we checked into the hotel? Was it a security measure?
I decide it’s not worth my time to dwell on such a menial thing. If it’s important to him we’re not seen as married, so be it. His loss, not mine.
I thought it had been a nice touch to be called Mrs. Armstrong.
Of course, we never actually talked about our future.
Come to think of it, we talked of no future at all. Ford never wanted to talk about us, or where we’d be in say six months time. All he ever wants to talk about is security measures; perimeter checks and ways to keep me safe.
Was the reason he didn’t want to talk about us simply because he didn’t think there was an us?
All the thinking makes my head hurt.
With a sigh, I take the room key and let Ford lead the way.
The fairy tale seems to be drawing to a close already. It certainly didn’t last very long. And I wish he’d stop with the scanning and the looking on his waistband. He’s attracting more attention this way than pretending to be my partner.
“You shouldn’t have paid with your credit card,” he hisses in my ear as we leave the reception area.
It takes me seconds to realize what he just said.
“Why?” the doors of the elevator close, and I face him.
“Because it’s got your name on it.”
He sounds as if he’s talking to a three-year-old child.
His manner since arriving here is getting on my nerves. I regret the decision to let him come. Okay, he still would have come no matter what I would have said, but that doesn’t mean I don’t regret it.
“Dah,” I groan, and I’m pleased the door is open for us.
Once inside the room, I do my best to ignore him. That wouldn’t be difficult, with the huge ever so inviting, king sized bed. Not to mention the white leather lounge in the living room area.
But I go over the white bench top first, picking up the folder with the necessary hotel information. I flick through it, and I know what I’m going to do then.
“We can’t get the supplies till the morning,” I half turn to Ford as I’m speaking. “So I think I’ll go and treat myself to a spa.”
I shut the folder with a soft thud and walk toward the door.
“I’ll go with you.”
Ford is suddenly by my side.
I’m not quite sure how he does this—materializing next to me, seemingly without moving from one spot to the other. It freaks me out.
I can’t help but think, if he has these skills, surely any potential kidnappers or con artists will know the same tricks. And then, what?
“No.”
I put as much emphasis into the word as I can.
He rolls his eyes. He’s about to start with the lengthy explanation, but I hold up my hand to stop him.
“There’s a spa right here in the hotel. I’ll be fine. I promise I won’t go with anyone else to look at their pet poodle or monkey.”
Ford didn’t laugh.
I leave the room without another word. The massive space suddenly seems small and less attractive than when I first entered it.
I definitely like the Ford I’ve got to know in our village better than the one I’m seeing in Nairobi, I thought.
As I take the lift, I wonder why Ford is the way he is.
Sure, he takes his job seriously. But there must be more to it. I take my job seriously too, but I don’t go overboard the way he does.
He seems to sense danger everywhere we go.
Even in our little village, he saw shadows where no one else did.
Okay, so no one was actually looking for any danger.
Was that the main difference? We didn’t go looking for danger so it won’t find us?
But why does Ford believe I’m at such a risk?
I shake my head. None of this makes any sense to me.
The nice young woman at the spa directs me to a changing room.
“Nice robe in there for you,” she says with a big smile.
I thank and follow her direction.
In the small cubicle, I get undressed. Once I’m in the thick, soft robe, I exit.
Another young woman greets me.
How many people did this place employ?
She leads me through a long corridor into a room. I notice my step slows as I watch her disappear. My body feels tense, only easing up after I tell myself I’m being silly.
There’s no danger here. I mean, no one knows who I am or that I’m here.
Ford’s anxiety has rubbed off on me.
That’s not a good thing.
As I lower myself into the black leather chair to have my nails done, a facial applied and my feet rubbed, I vow to enjoy my stay here in Nairobi without believing the worst is going to happen.
And then it hits me. Maybe danger follows Ford because he envisages it.
Didn’t I read somewhere about the power of the mind—If you imagine something it’s likely to happen?
As soon as I return to my room, our room, I’m going to share this tidbit of information with Ford and see what he’s got to say.