My chickens and Vorster greeted me when I got home.
‘Kik kik kik,’ I said to my chickens, throwing out some mielies for them.
‘Lemonade?’ I offered Vorster, who was on the stoep.
I poured some for myself too and went and sat on the metal chair in my garden, in the shade of the lemon tree. I watched the shadow of the Rooiberg growing and the clouds beginning to get thick and dark, and I felt lonely. I went inside and made myself a cup of tea and a beskuit, picked up that brown envelope and a pen and paper and took them outside to the garden chair.
I looked at the biggest gwarrie tree in the veld. It was the closest gwarrie to me, and stood apart from the others. It had been growing old alone there for thousands of years.
Even with the tea and rusk and chickens and Vorster, I still felt lonely. I guess I just wasn’t the right kind of company for myself.
I ate a bit of beskuit, not because I was hungry but to remind my body that it was real. My mind didn’t feel real. It felt a little crazy. I was a fool to have hopes of love at my age. With my body. And a man like Henk Kannemeyer. But still, we could be friends.
I decided to make us bobotie for supper. But first I opened the brown envelope. It was, as I’d hoped, from the egg-boiling mechanic.
Thanks, Tannie, he wrote.
That was a fantastic cheese sauce. Cooking with beer is lekker.
I wasn’t sure how full to make the tablespoons in the recipe, but then realised it didn’t matter so long as they were the same kind of full as each other. It tasted really good and sometimes I make it for myself with supper. With a fried steak on the side.
Things have been moving along nicely and she is now really my girlfriend. I have met her parents and everything. They don’t mind I don’t talk much, they are glad I have a good job and love their daughter.
There, I used the love word. When I am with her I can’t stop smiling. She seems to be happy with smiling instead of talking. If there’s something important to say, we just use our SMS.
She’s coming for supper by me this weekend. It’s nice weather for sitting outside and looking at the stars so I thought I’d have a braai. I’ve got some nice kudu boerewors. It’s just me and her, you know, and I want it to be something special. What else can I do? I don’t think the Welsh rarebit will fit.
Help.
Karel
I was glad things were going well for him and his girl. I fanned myself with the envelope. The air was muggy, the rain stuck up there in the clouds. I wrote out a nice easy recipe for potjiekos made with boerewors. And also my recipe for farm bread. That bread is so easy to make, and it would really impress his girlfriend. I was going to give him some salad recipes but thought that would be going too far for now.
Writing to him made me feel less lonely. It was nice to have someone who I could lead by the hand from one step to the next.
I prepared the bobotie, then got myself ready. I put on my cream dress with the little blue flowers. Vorster shouted goodbye, and I heard his steps going up the pathway, and a car arrive. I heard Kannemeyer walking towards my house. I put on a welcoming smile and opened my front door.
It was Piet, standing on the stoep.
I kept that smile on my face.
‘Good evening, Piet.’
Piet nodded, and said: ‘Lieutenant Kannemeyer has got a meeting. I’m here tonight.’
The phone rang.
‘Excuse me, Piet,’ I said, and went to answer it.
‘Tannie Maria!’
‘Jess.’
‘I’m so sorry I’ve been so scarce, Tannie. I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you too, my skat.’
‘Reghardt dropped off a letter, Tannie. Explaining everything. And a box of koeksisters. My whole family ate koeksisters.’
‘I’m glad, Jessie. I left you some honey-toffee snake cake in the fridge at the Gazette.’
‘Awesome. Thanks, Tannie M. I interviewed the owner of the Sunshine B&B. He told me it was true, Reghardt didn’t stay that night.’
‘That’s my girl.’
‘Just being a good journalist,’ she said. ‘Double checking the facts.’
‘I also spoke to Candice,’ I said. ‘She says nothing happened. He’s not her type.’
‘The cheek,’ said Jessie. ‘Who is her type?’
‘Have you seen Reghardt yet?’ I said.
‘I’m meeting him at the Route 62 Café,’ she said. ‘I’m walking in there now. I just wanted to thank you, Tannie, and apologise. Oh, there he is. Catch you later, Tannie. Hang on. Nooit – you’ll never guess who else is here. Sitting in the corner. It’s Candy girl. With Detective Kannemeyer . . . ’