The African mask by Gunter Gerngross
When Janet came home from work on a hot day in August she picked up the mail•. “Bills•, bills, bills,” she thought. Then she saw a blue envelope. She looked at the postmark•. “Who is writing to me from Scotland?” she wondered• and she opened the letter and started to read.
I hope you still live at the same address. This is Donald McKinnon. I hope you remember me and the brilliant time we had when we were skiing in Switzerland all those years ago. I often think of you
and the time we spent together. I want to ask you a favour •. Can I invite you to come to my house in Scotland on the last weekend of September? I don’t know how busy you are, but I really hope that
you can come. Please write to me and let me know.
Janet put the letter on the table and sat down. Of course she remembered Donald and their holiday in Switzerland. They were in love and everything seemed perfect.
After that holiday she moved to London to work and Donald stayed in Scotland. They wrote to each other for a while• but after a few months they broke up•.
“Donald McKinnon…” she thought. “I wonder what he’s doing now.” Then she looked at her calendar. “The last weekend in September, why not?” she thought. “I’ll send him an email straight away•.” She
checked the letter but there was no email address or phone number. So she sat down and wrote to Donald just like all those years ago…
Before she went to Scotland Janet bought a present for Donald. It was a small silver elephant. She got it in an African shop. Janet remembered• that Donald loved Africa. He always said that he wanted
to go there one day. She was excited• on Saturday as she went to the airport. She flew to Edinburgh and then she hired• a car at the airport when she arrived. The village where Donald lived was nearly an hour from the airport. When she arrived at the house the door was open but there was nobody there. There was a note• for Janet on the table in the hall. It said:
“Make yourself comfortable•. Your bedroom is the first room on the left upstairs. Dinner is at seven-thirty. See you then, D.”