Slowly at first the tiny brittle flakes drift lazily down. Undecided
whether to fall as rain or snow, quite suddenly, they gather speed and
are driven crazily from side to side across the night sky. The flakes
thicken and whiten and within seconds the world is shaken into a
whirling snow scene. In the nearby town, late drinkers stumble out of
the pubs onto the streets and are stung by the onslaught of biting
insects on cheeks, lips and eyes. Bending into the wind, they stagger
home through silent streets past pocket-handkerchief gardens where
spring flowers have foolishly lifted their golden heads out of the dark
earth only to be reminded yet again that spring is the cruel deceiver.
Caleb Dube dreams on.
He is young again. He sees himself quite clearly: a tall 17-year-old,
long legs stretched out under the desk, hands clasped behind his head,
face intent and serious. The rain is pounding down on the tin roof of
the classroom, drowning out the teacher's voice. Laughing, the teacher
shakes his head, lifts his hands in resignation and gives up the
unequal struggle against the elements.
The boys stare out of the window at the downpour. Needle straight, the
rain pelts down, shrouding the scene in a heavy curtain of rain, hiding
everything from view. The Mission, the church, the school campus, the
courtyard outside the sixth-form block, the hostels beyond – all are
hidden behind the downpour. No sound but the hypnotic drumming of rain
on the roof.
It rains as only it can in Africa. Minutes pass and slowly, slowly the
deluge eases off. Caleb sees the boys turn their heads towards the
teacher. The dreaming Dube watches and listens. He sees boys that he
knows, his friends: Tendayi, the sportsman, Gilbert, the scholar,
serious and thoughtful and Musekiwa, short and plump, his round face
always smiling. Now, as usual, he is making them all laugh with some
silly joke.
The teacher joins in the laughter and lets the joke roll on until he is
ready to bring the class to order. Dube watches them but they do not
see him. No one turns to share the joke with himThen Dube sees the
teacher. It is a white man. He is Father Hugh Malloy, the sixth-form
English teacher, a tall imposing man with rugged face, brilliant blue
eyes and close-cropped hair. Dube knows him well. He and Father Hugh
are good friends but Hugh does not acknowledge his presence by so much
as a glance.
The Dube detective series
This extract from the opening chapter of Going Home, the latest in the
Dube series of detective stories set in Zimbabwe, encapsulates the
longing for home that every Zimbabwean in exile must feel. Going Home
is a detective story without a detective; unwilling to compromise his
integrity, Caleb Dube has resigned from the job he loves with the
Zimbabwe Republic Police and, like so many of his compatriots, has left
his native land for exile in the United Kingdom.
The former Detective Chief Inspector has been in exile for two years
when he receives a letter from his former colleague, Sergeant Moses
Musindo, telling him that his old friend, Father Hugh Malloy, is in
great danger. The priest has been receiving threatening anonymous
letters and other unpleasant visitations by night.