‘Candice Webster,’ said the cousin, offering her hand, ‘but call me Candy.’
‘Jessie Mostert,’ said Jessie, shaking it, ‘and this is Tannie Maria van Harten.’
She shook my hand too. Her grip was firm but her skin very soft.
‘You girls friends of Dirk’s? I sure could use some help with the funeral.’
‘More of Martine’s,’ said Jessie. ‘Let’s go out for that drink.’
We left Dirk snoring and the teenager with his nil-by-mouth still hanging open.
‘Dirk’s an idiot,’ Candy said, her heels clacking as we walked along the hospital corridor. ‘That fella couldn’t organise gravity to drop an apple. If he wasn’t so incapable I’d think he was the one that killed her. If she’s going to have a decent send-off, it’s up to me. Luckily I was in South Africa when I got the call. I’ve got a boutique in Cape Town.’
‘Hasn’t she got other close family?’ asked Jessie.
‘Her father’s a miser and her brother’s a creep. Don’t give a dried-apple damn about anyone. Turns out they’re in this area anyway, so at least they may pitch for the funeral. I thought we could have it on Wednesday.’
‘I’m sure we can help out,’ said Jessie. ‘Follow me down to the Ladismith Hotel. They serve a good martini.’
We were in the car park now. Candy opened the door of a little red MG that looked like it had come out of an old-fashioned movie.
‘Awesome car,’ said Jessie.
‘Yeah. Cute, ain’t she,’ said Candy. ‘Rental.’
‘We’ll meet you there, Tannie M.’
I shook my head.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘It’s been quite a day. I need to go home and rest. I’ll catch up tomorrow.’
Jessie gave me a hug and Candy kissed the air next to my cheek. The red MG followed the red scooter down the hill, and the one remaining vetkoek and I rode behind them in my little blue bakkie. They turned off to the Ladismith Hotel and we headed right out of town and then along the dirt track that led to my home.
We sat together at my kitchen table, just the vetkoek and me, then just me.