V & A Waterfront, Cape Town, South Africa

In a sports bar brimming with rugby fans I met a floppy-haired Irishman, Andy, and his South African wife, Catherine. Small, dark, sweet Catherine. Andy came from a good family. From his accent and demeanor I surmised he was public school educated. He owned a landscaping business in Cape Town and had married Catherine, he explained to me, so he could stay in the country. Andy liked to drink, so we got on well. While he explained to me the different beers to be found in Southern Africa, I glanced at his wife and noticed her gazing at him with what can only be described as a look of love in her dark, shining eyes. I wondered if Andy had noticed. His business was doing well, he said, but he was having trouble with some of his black workers who were often drunk or in gaol. Andy and Catherine recently had spent a few months travelling in a van, camping and sight-seeing on the way to Namibia. They brought along a loaded pistol.