Chapter 13

Chipengo—Madness

Priscilla’s rage increased with each passing minute after Chantel left. When she closed her eyes, she saw red, bright colors of fire and fury.

Thinking of what to do to ease her boiling blood she stalked into the bedroom and pulled the few items that belonged to Unashe that were still in her wardrobe. They were contaminating her space. She found two shirts, the slippers she had bought him, a jersey and a cap. She threw them on the bed. She wanted to throw them out of the window, but restrained herself. Only just. She pulled two plastic bags from the kitchen and shoved all his clothes, cassettes and books into them, her breath coming out in murderous puffs.

There was a knock at the door. She froze in her tracks, her heart beating even faster than before. Still on the bed, she heard a second knock. She walked into the living room and stood there for a second. She didn’t want to see him at all. She couldn’t face him. She couldn’t let him see how much she hurt. How humiliated she was by his behavior. But she had to.

Before he knocked a third time she opened the door. He smiled, holding a small package in his hand. He looked so good, so wonderful, and, at that moment, so deceitful.

“Cilla! Sweetheart.” He hugged her to him but she pushed him away roughly, his scent making her weak. He always smelled so good.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, closing the door and following her as she walked away from him. “I brought you this.” He handed her a wrapped up parcel, which she took and roughly threw on the sofa. She avoided his eyes angrily, shaking her head, sniffing.

“Priscilla, what’s going on? Why are you angry?”

“I don’t want to talk to you about it. Why don’t you just take your things and go? Just leave me alone,” she yelled. She saw him flinch as if she had slapped him. Maybe she should slap him.

“Is it about me going? Come on. We can work it out…”

“Damn you! Just go. I have your nasty things all packed up,” she said, and then marched into her bedroom and brought back the plastic bags with his belongings. He still stood where she had left him as if he was paralyzed.

“Here,” she said and flung them at his feet. “Get out.”

“What?” He was angry now. “You really are serious?”

“I am, Unashe. Just go.”

Unashe felt panic rise in his chest, almost choking him. “Come on, Cilla. Let’s talk about this,” he said and reached for her. She jumped away from him.

“I don’t believe this,” he muttered, shock written all over his face. “Are you saying this is over? We are through?”

She nodded her head, throbbing with the effort of keeping her tears in check. “I can’t stand you, Unashe. I don’t ever want to see you again. You are the biggest mistake of my life!”

He glared at her for what seemed like a minute. She enjoyed it. He was feeling just as she was feeling.

“Mistake.”

“Yes. I’ve come to my senses. You used my body and took advantage of me. So just go!”

“I—what? You were enjoying it just as much as I was!”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I should never have let you touch me. It was wrong! We were wrong. Just go!”

“So that’s how we break up?”

“Unashe. That’s how I do it, yes. If you don’t leave now, I’m walking out of here. Just leave!”

“You are really something, you know. You should find out who your father is, because he could be crazy just like you.”

“You bastard! I hate you!” Priscilla screamed and picked up the nearest thing, a vase with flowers, and threw it at him. He jumped out of the way and the glass shattered, hitting the wall. She stared at the flowers and water on the floor and glared at him.

They stood facing each other, her words forming a huge chasm between them. She couldn’t tell him about Chantel. Her pride wouldn’t let her tell him. A minute passed, and after that Unashe picked up the plastic bags and walked out and slammed the door. He didn’t wait long enough outside her door to hear her sobbing as though her soul would break.

* * *

At work the next day, she was in a black mood. She sat at her desk and stared out the window.

“Julia, I’m sorry, but I can’t talk to you at the moment,” she said when Julia came to chat at lunchtime.

“What’s wrong?” Julia asked, very concerned. ”You look like someone died or something.”

“I can’t talk about it. Ever,” Priscilla said, almost in tears. “I’d rather be left alone.”

Mukai’s phone call before lunch made matters worse.

“Pri. You’ve been so quiet. Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine,” she croaked, trying to sound normal.

“Did Unashe tell you?” she asked, but obviously didn’t wait for an answer. “He’s going to the UK. Everything has worked out. I’m so relieved. He’ll be going to study for a business and financial degree. He managed to organize a partial scholarship and accommodations through the bank. He’s trying to finalize his papers now,” she said and sighed. Priscilla assumed she was waiting for a response.

“That’s wonderful,” she said.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Mukai asked. “Between you and me I’m glad he’s going to school. I think Chantel is the girl he was seeing, spending all those nights away from home. I think she wanted to get married to him. Imagine. He’s only twenty-two. Some women. Bad news, though. I think she’s also going overseas soon. I think even if they get together while they are studying it’s better than to get too serious before they have a proper education and job, don’t you agree?”

“I agree,” Priscilla said.

“Anyway, I don’t have much time. I need to go to the bank and then to Truworths to buy him some new clothes. I want to make sure he has warm clothes. It’ll be cold there soon. You take care.”

“I will,” she said and hung up quickly as she began to sob. She ran to the ladies’ room, cried and threw up.

* * *

When Priscilla came back to her office, she had another phone call. She picked it up and mumbled a hello. It was Unashe.

“Cilla, we need to talk,” he said at once.

“I’ve nothing to say to you,” she said, about to hang up.

“Listen. This is crazy. What’s going on?”

“There’s nothing more to say. It’s over. Accept it. Goodbye,” Priscilla said and hung up the phone. When he called again she put the phone down before he could even say anything, and when he came to the office she refused to see him. She felt that if she saw his face she would try and claw his eyes out. Anything to make him feel the pain she was experiencing.

At the end of the workday, she packed her bag and walked tiredly from her office. She gasped when she saw Unashe sitting at reception, head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Her heart skipped a beat, but she didn’t approach him. She just stared at him for a while, and then walked back into her office. She knew other ways to leave the building without running into Unashe again.

Mukai phoned again on Friday morning. “Unashe’s leaving tomorrow. Are you coming to the airport?”

“I’ll try.” Priscilla scratched her head as she tried to think of a very good excuse not to go.

“Good,” Mukai said. “I’ll come and pick you up.”

Priscilla wanted to scream “no”, but instead she said the first thing that came to her mind to get her aunt off her back. “Don’t worry. I’ll come over to your house and say goodbye properly.”

“Are you sure? You have to take two buses.”

“I can manage,” she said, knowing that nothing would make her go to Mukai’s house while her cheating and lying son was still there.

Chamu called and asked her to go to the races on Saturday at the Borrowdale Race Course. She agreed. That way she wouldn’t be home if her aunt decided to check at her house. It was a desperate move, maybe one she would live to regret.

* * *

Chamu was very sweet, caring, and, in a way, that was a balm to her wounded and still bleeding heart. She even bet on a horse and found herself screaming for Beetle Ray to win. The excited crowd added to the frenzy as Beetle lost the race at the last minute. It came second, but even after such a close victory, she couldn’t help checking her watch to see how long Unashe had before he left.

Chamu, dressed in a pair of dark blue corduroys and a shirt, was very attentive. He ordered drinks for her as they watched the races. Afterwards he drove her home in a new silver Mercedes.

“How about going for something to eat?” She looked at him and tried to smile. How bored he must be of her.

“I’m sorry for being so quiet. It’s just somebody who is very important to me is leaving today.”

“Anyone I know?”

“No.”

I don’t know him all that well either, she thought.

“So can I treat you to a nice steak dinner?” She had to stay away from her flat. If she went there then she would have some explaining to do to Mukai. She couldn’t do that without breaking down and crying. She couldn’t face Unashe’s mother. Not yet.

“Okay,” she replied.

She was very impressed when he took her to the Miekles. It was the best five-star hotel in the city.

“Is this where we are eating?” she asked, surprised as if she had just woken up from a dream.

“Yes,” he said after parking in the basement. “Do you mind?”

“No. I’m just surprised, that’s all,” she said, taking off her seat belt.

It was hard for her to concentrate, even in those beautiful surroundings. A young man played the black grand piano and the diners spoke in muted voices. The food was like cardboard in her mouth, though she knew that under different circumstances she would have loved the tender steak and seasoned vegetables.

Chamu did most of the talking, while she nodded and agreed with him as he told her some of his business ideas. He didn’t seem to notice her depression, but at the end of the meal he gave her a very penetrating look. Maybe he did suspect that something was wrong.

It was 9 p.m. Unashe would be getting ready to board his plane, and where was she? Sitting here with Chamu. Why was she here? She could at least go and see him off. Aunt Mukai would be very upset.

“I think I want to go home now,” Priscilla said suddenly, looking at Chamu. “And I’m sorry I haven’t been good company. You are a good friend and you deserve better than the way I’ve been acting.”

“Don’t worry. I enjoyed spending the day with you. I think every man in here envies me,” he said, glancing at the other diners. Priscilla didn’t even have the energy to glance around.

“Thank you for the day. I have to be home,” she insisted, giving him a tremulous smile.

On the drive back Chamu talked about his business, but Priscilla’s mind was miles away. He insisted on walking her to her door and made sure she was in safely.

“Will you be all right?” His tone was gentle and kind. She could tell he wanted to be invited in, but she would not do that.

“Yes,” she answered.

“If you need to talk you can call me,” he offered and touched her gently on the shoulder.

“Thank you,” she said and closed the door, already feeling weak with the feelings she had been holding in check.

Oh, Unashe.

Priscilla looked at the clock in a panic. Maybe she could rush to the airport and at least see him for the last time. His flight was due to take off at 10 p.m. Priscilla picked up her phone and dialled the number for a cab. It would cost her a lot of money, but it would be worth it. Then she put the phone down after one ring.

No. She would not go after him after what he had done to her. She tried to ignore the wave of loneliness that engulfed her in an instant. Feeling pathetic, she fell on the sofa, willing her mind to forget him. Every corner of her apartment reminded her of him, and memories hit her one after the other.

She saw him walking out of the kitchen holding a bottle of beer, or a glass of Mazoe Orange diluted with a lot of water. She imagined the door opening; he would walk in as he always did, coming from soccer or the gym, wanting to talk to her, hold her…

“What have I done?” she said to the silent room.

Even as she sobbed those words, his plane took off into the night sky.