late.â
âYouâll have to pay a fine! You spoke in French.â
Pathé often forgot this rule of their language association. Members who spoke French had to pay a fine.
âWhat fine do you impose?â
âLater.â
Rama released the handbrake and drove off in a cloud of dust. She loved speed. At a pedestrian crossing she just missed someone and skidded towards the pavement. A policeman advanced on them. Very politely, he asked in French:
âYour driving licence please, madam.â
Rama glanced at Pathé, turned, all feminine, to the policeman and said in Wolof:
âMy brother, excuse me, I cannot understand what you are saying.â
âYou donât understand French?â he asked in Wolof.
âI donât understand French, my brother.â
âHow did you get your driving licence then?â
Rama chanced a glance at Pathé. He avoided saying anything to prevent himself from laughing.
âGive me your licence,â ordered the policeman peremptorily in Wolof.
Rama hunted in her handbag and handed him her licence. Leaning forward the policeman examined Pathéâs face and suddenly blurted out:
âDoctor! Doctor! Donât you recognize me? You attended my second wife. You looked after her very well.â
âDid I?â said Pathé modestly.
âI recognize you. I donât know how to thank you. My wife is completely better now.â
âYou know, we get a lot of people at the hospital.â
Rama leaned over to Pathé and signed to him that he was breaking the rules of their language association.
âIs this your lady, doctor?â asked the policeman in French.
âNo... a sister. I am going to examine her mother.â
Rama jabbed him in the side several times.
âI hope her husband will be able to correct her!â
âI hope so too,â agreed Pathé solemnly.
âThank the doctor for being so kind as to go with you to attend to your sick mother. If it werenât for him Iâd take away your driving licence. You may go,â said the policeman to Rama in Wolof.
The policeman was a good sort really. He halted a mini which was coming from the opposite direction and signalled Rama to pass. Once they were out of sight they roared with laughter.
They went to the Sumbejin.
The sun, pale as twilight at this time of the year, sent its ochre rays obliquely onto the sea. On the bar terrace a few customers were enjoying the occasional breeze.
âWhy did you tell him all those lies?â asked Rama as she sat down.
âI thought you didnât understand French.â
â Touché, lovely man!â
They roared with laughter again.
The waiter, well trained at the hotel school, stood by them, erect and impassive. Rama ordered a coca-cola, Pathé a beer.
âForeign, sir?â
âLocal,â Pathé replied.
âDo you think we will get married one of these days?â
Caught off his guard by the question but aware of its connection with the incident, Pathé was too intrigued to say anything. Then:
âWhatâs against it?â
âThatâs not an answer. I want to know, yes or no, whether you still intend marrying me.â
The waiter brought their order.
âMy reply is yes.â
âYou know Iâm against polygamy.â
âWhatâs eating you?â
âYou know about my fatherâs third marriage?â
âYes.â
âApart from the enormous expense, do you know the rest?â
âNo,â replied the doctor, remembering what the registrar had told him less than two hours previously.
âMy father spent a fortune on this wedding, not to mention the car he bought his Dulcinea on condition she was a virgin. A virgin! Iâm sure sheâs as much a virgin as I am.â
She paused, drank her coca-cola.
Pathé, wary of the young girlâs unpredictability, waited for what was to follow. With his right hand he
âYouâll have to pay a fine! You spoke in French.â
Pathé often forgot this rule of their language association. Members who spoke French had to pay a fine.
âWhat fine do you impose?â
âLater.â
Rama released the handbrake and drove off in a cloud of dust. She loved speed. At a pedestrian crossing she just missed someone and skidded towards the pavement. A policeman advanced on them. Very politely, he asked in French:
âYour driving licence please, madam.â
Rama glanced at Pathé, turned, all feminine, to the policeman and said in Wolof:
âMy brother, excuse me, I cannot understand what you are saying.â
âYou donât understand French?â he asked in Wolof.
âI donât understand French, my brother.â
âHow did you get your driving licence then?â
Rama chanced a glance at Pathé. He avoided saying anything to prevent himself from laughing.
âGive me your licence,â ordered the policeman peremptorily in Wolof.
Rama hunted in her handbag and handed him her licence. Leaning forward the policeman examined Pathéâs face and suddenly blurted out:
âDoctor! Doctor! Donât you recognize me? You attended my second wife. You looked after her very well.â
âDid I?â said Pathé modestly.
âI recognize you. I donât know how to thank you. My wife is completely better now.â
âYou know, we get a lot of people at the hospital.â
Rama leaned over to Pathé and signed to him that he was breaking the rules of their language association.
âIs this your lady, doctor?â asked the policeman in French.
âNo... a sister. I am going to examine her mother.â
Rama jabbed him in the side several times.
âI hope her husband will be able to correct her!â
âI hope so too,â agreed Pathé solemnly.
âThank the doctor for being so kind as to go with you to attend to your sick mother. If it werenât for him Iâd take away your driving licence. You may go,â said the policeman to Rama in Wolof.
The policeman was a good sort really. He halted a mini which was coming from the opposite direction and signalled Rama to pass. Once they were out of sight they roared with laughter.
They went to the Sumbejin.
The sun, pale as twilight at this time of the year, sent its ochre rays obliquely onto the sea. On the bar terrace a few customers were enjoying the occasional breeze.
âWhy did you tell him all those lies?â asked Rama as she sat down.
âI thought you didnât understand French.â
â Touché, lovely man!â
They roared with laughter again.
The waiter, well trained at the hotel school, stood by them, erect and impassive. Rama ordered a coca-cola, Pathé a beer.
âForeign, sir?â
âLocal,â Pathé replied.
âDo you think we will get married one of these days?â
Caught off his guard by the question but aware of its connection with the incident, Pathé was too intrigued to say anything. Then:
âWhatâs against it?â
âThatâs not an answer. I want to know, yes or no, whether you still intend marrying me.â
The waiter brought their order.
âMy reply is yes.â
âYou know Iâm against polygamy.â
âWhatâs eating you?â
âYou know about my fatherâs third marriage?â
âYes.â
âApart from the enormous expense, do you know the rest?â
âNo,â replied the doctor, remembering what the registrar had told him less than two hours previously.
âMy father spent a fortune on this wedding, not to mention the car he bought his Dulcinea on condition she was a virgin. A virgin! Iâm sure sheâs as much a virgin as I am.â
She paused, drank her coca-cola.
Pathé, wary of the young girlâs unpredictability, waited for what was to follow. With his right hand he
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