Serena watched the couple in the parking lot. It was obvious they were eviscerating each other. Five minutes in each other’s company was all it took to set them off. They had begun with that rubbish couples did in public, whisper-fighting and cold-shouldering. Now the gloves were off. The woman was half out of her coat, the brown sleeve that had no arm in it flapping in the wind like an injured bird. Her colouring was high and hair whipped about her face; every now and again she had to stop flailing her hands as she shouted to yank her hair behind her ears.
The man was struggling to keep calm. He said something that made her turn away. He kept talking to her back, and then made the mistake of laying a hand on it. She whipped around and yelled in his face, jabbing her finger at his chest, her face crumbling.
‘I hate it when they do this in public. They don’t even try to hide it any more.’ Serena turned away from the window, a fist forming in her breast.
Etienne Matongo, the deputy head of security, dropped a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Serena watched her father try to pull her sobbing mother into his arms as she fought him off. Good thing it was after 8 p.m., when the car park was all but empty and most of WI’s night staff was inside. So much for a peaceful evening at home, everyone pretending to be marginally sane. She’d ditched her friends and left campus so she could surprise her parents after work, spend quality time with them like a good daughter. Now there was this to look forward to instead, an atmosphere stuck through with razor blades.
‘This time of year is hard for them,’ said Etienne. His bass sunk his voice extra deep and at times Serena struggled to follow the strong lilt of French and Congolese. ‘They must come inside this place every day, a place that reminds them of their love for your brother. It is not easy.’
Serena hung her head. It was true. Sean’s charm had marinated into every part of their lives. A lot of people at the WI, the likes of Etienne who had known him too, remembered how great her brother had been.
‘We don’t talk about him any more. We either fight or keep our mouths closed so that the wrong thing doesn’t come out. Nothing gets said.’ Tearful rage snagged at her words. ‘Sometimes I just want to talk about it, to scream out everything once and for all.’
She stared into Etienne’s eyes, eyes that were, like hers, heavy with worry and fear. ‘Do you ever feel like that? That you can’t hold things in for one more second, that you have to let it out or it’ll kill you?’
‘The heart is a big place, but it cannot hold everything forever. Even big hearts must put down the load and rest one day.’
They both turned to the window and gazed out at the lot, unable to look at each other.
‘Do people in your country believe the truth will set you free?’
Etienne sighed. ‘I have seen many bad things in my country, Serena, as I am sure many have seen in other places. Bad things can happen anywhere, but it is up to one person to choose how the future will go. So, yes, ma petite, I think all over this world people believe the truth can make you go free. If you don’t trust it, you can never trust yourself.’
Hot tears spilled over Serena’s lids. She swiped at her face angrily with the sleeve of her biker jacket. ‘How do you know … when do you feel it’s right to let go?’
‘I do not know that,’ he replied. A muscular arm reached over and gave her more pats on the shoulder. ‘But when you know it is time, come to me. I can help.’
He produced one of the paper towels that came from the dispensers all around the hospital and passed it to her. ‘Now, please, take your parents home.’