‘Let’s go in my car,’ Hattie said when we were outside.
‘No,’ I said, quickly getting into my little blue bakkie. ‘Do you think Jessie is okay? Why didn’t her ma say what the problem was?’
We drove up the hill towards the hospital.
‘I couldn’t really hear her properly. I’m sure Jessie’s fine. Does this window not open any wider?’
‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘it sticks. Here, I’ll turn the fan onto you.’
I wound my window all the way down and a warm breeze moved through my bakkie. I suppose we should’ve gone in Hattie’s car; but I just couldn’t face Hattie’s driving when I was so worried already.
‘I hate it when a hospital phones you but won’t tell you what the problem is,’ I said, as we drove up the hill. ‘It happened with my mother. They say it’s to make sure you don’t have an accident on the way. But that’s rubbish, I think. Worrying can be worse than knowing.’
‘There’s no shade,’ Hattie said, as we pulled in to the hospital car park. ‘Your car is going to get so hot.’
A police van and a cream 4×4 had taken the only shade under the big rhus tree.
The cicadas were screeching. It seemed to get louder and louder as we walked towards the hospital entrance. We passed the 4×4. Firestone tyres. Klein Karoo Real Estate written on the side in black letters.
It sounded like the cicadas were in a jakkalsbos in the flower bed at the hospital entrance.
As we were going through the doors a man walked out so fast he bumped into my shoulder.
‘Mr Marius!’ said Hattie, and he turned around.
He was not any taller than Hattie, but he glared down his nose at her. His hair was black and slicked into a side parting and he had a slim moustache curled around his lips. His mouth looked like he was eating something bitter. He stared at us both through narrow eyes then pointed a finger at me and then at Hattie.
The noise of the cicadas stopped. I could hear him breathing through his nose.
He opened his mouth and I thought he was going to speak, but instead he spun around, marched across the tar to the 4×4 bakkie, revved the engine and sped away. The cicadas started screeching again.
‘There you are!’ said Sister Mostert.
She was a short woman with a round face and nice shape. She reminded me of a vetkoek, wrapped in a clean white napkin – that smart nurse’s uniform.
‘Is Jessie okay?’ I asked.
‘Jessie?’ she said, looking at Hattie, then back at me. ‘No, no, this is not about Jessie. It’s Miss Pretorius and Mr van Schalkwyk. Fighting again. We’ve had to get in police guards now. I was hoping you could talk to them. Get them to stop this nonsense.’
We followed Jessie’s mom down the corridor as she spoke.
‘They caught Miss Pretorius trying to pour Dettol into Mr van Schalkwyk’s drip while he was sleeping. We uncuffed her to let her go to the toilet, and that’s when she sneaked off – in her wheelchair! Then in the middle of the night he somehow wheeled his whole bed to Anna’s ward. I don’t know how he managed, but it looks like he used the drip stand to push himself along – like he was pulling a boat down a river. The bed got stuck in the door, but there was some kicking and throwing of things before we separated them again.’
‘Honestly,’ said Hattie. ‘Like children.’
‘But more dangerous. We can’t watch them twenty-four hours a day. So we called the police. Reghardt said maybe you guys could talk some sense into them. Where is Jessie?’
‘She’s not feeling well. She went home,’ Hattie said.
‘I couldn’t get her on her cell,’ said Sister Mostert. ‘I hope she’s okay.’
‘Nothing serious,’ said Hattie, ‘just a bit of an upset stomach. But when you phoned and told us to get up here, we thought that maybe Jessie . . . ’
‘Ag, shame, I’m sorry. No, it’s just that the detective arrived just as I was calling you so I didn’t have time to explain everything.’
‘Kannemeyer?’ I asked. ‘He’s here?’
‘Ja, he wants to take statements from them, so they can do legal injunctions or something.’
‘Interdicts?’ I said, remembering my conversation with Legal Aid.
‘Ja, to keep them so many metres away from each other.’
‘Mr Marius – what was he doing here?’ asked Hattie.
‘Visiting Mr van Schalkwyk,’ she said.
We were at Anna’s ward now and I could see Detective Kannemeyer standing by her bed. My hair must have looked terrible. I hadn’t fixed it since riding around in Candy’s car. I ran my hand across it, but I really needed a mirror.
‘I’m just going to use the bathroom,’ I said to Hattie.
But it was too late – Anna had seen us.
‘Tannie Maria!’ she called. ‘Come and explain to the policeman what no means.’
I took a big breath and went inside.
‘Nee, no, hayi khona, blerrie hell,’ said Anna.
The detective was looking smart in a cream cotton shirt and maroon tie, as if he had been sitting in an air-conditioned office instead of a sports car in the wind and sun. He nodded at us and stood back while Sister Mostert put a pillow under Anna’s foot – which was sticking out from the plaster cast – and turned a knob on the drip beside the bed.
Anna’s hair was even more ruffled than mine, and her green hospital gown was wrinkled, but her cheeks were rosy. She smiled and patted the side of her bed, calling us closer. The sister winked at me and left.
Detective Kannemeyer cleared his throat. In his hand he had a clipboard with paper and a pen.
‘Miss Pretorius says she won’t press charges against Van Schalkwyk,’ he said. ‘She won’t even give a statement about what happened.’
Anna pressed her lips together.
‘But, Anna,’ I said, ‘then Dirk will blame you for everything.’
She shook her head, raised her eyes towards Kannemeyer and did a rolling movement with her hand.
He sighed and said: ‘Van Schalkwyk’s also doing nothing.’
‘It was all just an accident,’ said Anna.
‘That’s what he says too,’ Kannemeyer said. He tapped his clipboard with his finger. ‘You will both be booked for disturbing the peace and shooting your firearms. And the hospital will be laying charges with that Dettol nonsense. And you aren’t off the hook for your original homicide charge— ’
‘Did you maybe bring me some vetkoek?’ said Anna to me.
‘Sorry,’ I said.
‘Tannie Maria. Mrs . . . ahm . . . ’ Kannemeyer said, looking down at Hattie.
‘Harriet,’ she said, ‘Harriet Christie.’
‘Tannie Maria and Mrs Christie, I hope you can talk some sense into this woman. Get her to understand the seriousness of her crimes.’
‘Cake?’ Anna asked.
‘Not even a grape,’ I said. ‘I’m really sorry.’
Kannemeyer looked down at the paper on his board. It was blank. He patted it against his thigh and walked towards the door. Before he left the ward he remembered his manners, and turned around.
‘Good afternoon, ladies,’ he said.